Realm Of Blood And Fire (Book 3) (23 page)

Phantom watched his realmist from the mantle on the far side of the room. He hadn’t seen Arcon drink so much for a very long time.
Don't you think you’ve had enough?

Arcon spied his creatura across the room.
No. My friend is dead, and my family hates me.

They don’t all hate you.

I can’t blame them, really. I’d hate me too.

Arcon, don’t do this. Last time you slipped into
a depression, it took me three months to drag you out of it. We don’t have time for this.

Mind your own business. Go chase some mice or something.

Phantom blinked and resisted the urge to fly over and dig his claws into Arcon’s scalp.
Disagreeable, ungrateful man
, he thought.

By the time they had finished the main course, the silver-scaled queen had seen Arcon down his fifth tankard of ale. She spoke into his mind and almost laughed when he jumped at her voice.
I don’t think you should be meeting anyone anywhere tonight. We’ll leave our expedition for tomorrow night.

He looked at her through half-closed lids, his hands cupped around his drink.
Thank you, Queen Jazmonilly.

His dinner companions laughed and joked around him. Unable to match their joviality, and resenting it, he stood and bowed at the
dragon king and queen. “I have a lot to do tomorrow, so I’m going to retire early. Good night.”

His plan of walking quickly to the exit didn’t go quite as he expected. His disobedient feet wanted to pretend he was on a ship. The slight stagger that eventually got him to the door encouraged a few whistles and jokes from some of the soldiers.

The soldiers weren’t the only ones who had noticed Arcon’s state—Crotus had not only observed the ungainly exit but also the dynamics at the dining table. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, thinking. What was going on?

Aimee
watched Arcon leave and was reminded of the afternoon’s happenings. “Hey, do you guys notice anything unusual about Bronwyn and Blayke and the King and Queen of Veresia?”

The group of realmists looked toward their table.
Crotus was the first to understand. “Our realmist friends look a lot like the king and queen. Do you think they’re related?”

Aimee nodded. “But
Bronwyn and Blayke didn’t seem to know the king and queen. The queen went all funny when she met them. Whatever it is, it’s important. She asked them to meet with her this afternoon. I wonder what happened?”

Crotus
pushed his chair back. “I have some studying to do. See you all tomorrow at training.” Without waiting for anyone’s farewell, he made his way to his room. He closed his door and sat on his bed, his crow beside him. The realmist took a napkin out of his pocket. He extracted small pieces of meat from it and hand-fed the bird. Satisfied that his creatura was happy, he scooted on his bottom to the end of the bed and rested his back against the wall.

He set a ward.
Leon, are you there?

Hello,
Crotus. What information do you have for me?

Everything’s
ready. I also have some extra news. The realmists, Bronwyn and Blayke, seem to have some kind of link to the King and Queen of Veresia. They share a strong likeness. Something to be exploited, perhaps?

Show me what they look like.

Crotus brought up an image of the pair.

It was some time before Leon replied.
Thank you, Crotus. I want you to find out more and get back to me as soon as you can. And continue your efforts in keeping the dragons off balance.

Certainly,
Your Highness. Good-night.

Good-night
. See you soon.

The black-clad realmist smiled and removed his boots before curling up on the bed. If Leon was happy, all was good. He just had to keep on top of his obligations and he would avoid torture. Shivering,
he vowed never to be in that position again.
Crotus wasn’t sure who they should fear more: the gormons or his depraved boss. It seemed like a match made in the Third Realm.

***

The sun had risen behind them as they broke camp and started toward the mountains that were only a few leagues away. They had come upon them quicker than Avruellen had thought they would. It was midmorning, and they stood at the entrance next to the river. With the snow-capped slopes hulking behind them, the realmist turned to Toran and Corrille. “I know I don’t have to say this, but I will anyway. Make sure you show the utmost respect to the dragons. They have a dungeon here, and they’re not afraid to use it—just ask Bronwyn.”

Toran smiled. “I would never dream of doing anything to end up there.”

Corrille just scowled.

Avruellen couldn’t wait to be rid of the girl, but she hadn’t worked out what kind of a threat she was, other than being a source of friction between Blayke and Bronwyn and an enormous pain in the behind. Corrille had never truly accounted for her mysterious disappearance. They knew
she had been taken by a gormon supporter, but was she a victim . . . or something else? Avruellen wished murder was not frowned upon as much as it was—she would have disposed of the problem by now.

“I’m going to let the dragons know we’re here.” She sent a mind-message.
Queen Jazmonilly, it’s Avruellen. We’re at the human entrance. Would you mind sending someone?

Avruellen! I’m so glad you’re here—Arcon needs a friend right now. Someone will be there to attend to you shortly.

Thank you.
What did she mean “Arcon needs a friend”? He had seemed all right last time she had spoken to him, but that was a few days ago. They had all been extremely relieved to hear that Bronwyn had survived—well, maybe not Corrille, but Avruellen hadn’t come to expect anything less.

The realmist tapped her foot—impatient
, now she held concern for her brother. Flux nudged her hand.
Whatever it is, Av, it will be fine. If it was that bad, he would have contacted you.

She stroked his head.
I’m not sure. We’ll see
.
Her
eyes scanned the sky, waiting for their welcoming party.
What’s taking them so long
? she thought.

Toran, who was also looking into the sky, pointed. “Is that one of them?”

Avruellen squinted. “Yes, Toran, I do believe it is. Finally.”

As the dragon circled lower, they could see
Supestia’s gleaming bronze-colored scales. She swooped over their heads and dropped to land in front of them.

Avruellen performed a small
curtsy. Toran took her lead and bowed. Corrille watched, her arms folded in front of her chest.

The dragon eyed the girl but quickly ignored her. “So lovely to see you again, Avruellen. Welcome to Vellonia, city of the dragons.”

“Thank you, Supestia. We are honored to be here.”

Supestia waved her arm. A boat appeared, floating above the water, just below the bank. “Please step into the boat and sit.” The dragon gestured toward the craft.

Avruellen stepped in first, Flux at her side. Toran helped Corrille before he jumped down and sat. The automatic seat belts strapped over their laps, and the boat floated forward. “See you inside.” The dragon launched herself into the air as the boat glided into the dark cavern and the whirlpool that had terrified many a visitor before them.

The realmist knew she should have warned them about what would happen, but she thought Toran would be fine with it. Avruellen enjoyed Corrille’s screams as the boat descended, swirling faster and faster in the vortex. The
plop
as they landed in the calm, underground water came too soon for Avruellen. She turned and held up a Second-Realm ball of light to see Corrille’s green-tinged face. “How is everyone back there?”

“That was exciting!” Toran grinned.

“Corrille?”

The girl glared at Avruellen, who smiled.

The boat gently bumped against the shore where a gray dragon awaited them. “Greetings, visitors to Vellonia, the most spectacular of the dragon cities.”

Avruellen wanted to say it was the only dragon city, but refrained and alighted, smiling instead.

“My name is Terapholous. Please follow me.” He led them through the maze of rocks to the stairs leading up from near the dungeon. The light in the cavern was too dim to see properly after being outside in the glare, so Avruellen kept the ball of light hovering above her palm, letting it disappear when they entered the ground-floor hall.

Toran and Corrille marveled at the polished stone
, which surrounded them, and the intricately tiled floors.

Avruellen increased her pace to walk alongside
Terapholous. “Would you be able to tell me where Arcon, the realmist, is?”

“He is usually training his realmists in the valley. They always finish at
lunchtime.”

“Thank you.”

“I can escort you there after you’ve attended King Valdorryn and Queen Jazmonilly.”

“That would be wonderful.”

The dragon led them to the throne room where the harp-playing dragon strummed soothing tunes for the king, queen and their children, Arcese and Pandellen. Valdorryn rose when he spied them. “Avruellen! Greetings, my friend.” He took her hand in his while she dipped a curtsy.

Jazmonilly accepted the formal greeting before embracing the smaller human. “I’m so glad you made it. W
e’re very sorry we couldn’t send someone to fly you here, but we’ve promised the dragons we’ll only ask them to carry people if it’s an emergency.”

“I understand. Flux and I are just happy to be here.”

Avruellen’s young charges stood behind her, transfixed by Jaz’s vivid scales. “And this is Toran from the monastery on the Isle of the Dead Souls and Corrille from my village.”

“Well, you’ve come a long way.” The king offered them his clawed hand, which they both kissed, unsure how else to proceed. Valdorryn didn’t blast them with fire, so Toran figured they’d done the right thing.

“It’s an honor to be here, Your Highnesses.” The young man smiled.

“It’s our pleasure to host your visit, Toran. We hope you enjoy your stay.” Jazmonilly returned his smile.

Corrille gasped at the amount of teeth Jaz showed.

“It’s all right, young lass
—we won’t eat you.” The dragons and Avruellen laughed. “I always forget my smile has that effect on you humans.” Jaz motioned over one of the guards. “Please have them shown to their rooms.”

“If you don’t mind, Queen Jazmonilly, I’d like to see Arcon before I bother with that.
Terapholous said he’d take me to where they are practicing in the valley.”

“Of course, Avruellen. Go now, and we’ll see you at dinner.” Valdorryn nodded. The two dragons led them away—one with Toran and Corrille, the other with Avruellen and Flux.

Avruellen met Arcon halfway between the dragon “castle” and the practice field. “Arcon, what happened to you?” Avruellen frowned at the dark circles under his eyes and disheveled hair.

“I had a few too many drinks last night. Come to my room and we’ll talk.”

“Where’s Bronwyn?”

“She’s coming.” He turned and pointed at the small group in the distance. “Those youngsters dawdle everywhere. It’s annoying.”

“Well, since she’s probably in better shape than you, now, I’ll come with you first. I can see her later. Let’s go.”

The two realmists spent the afternoon in Arcon’s room. Although Avruellen dreaded seeing Gabrielle and Edmund, she enjoyed reminiscing with Arcon about the years they’d had with the children. When they were escorted to meet with the Veresian king and queen before dinner, Avruellen headed there with a mix of trepidation and contentment—her job was almost done.

Chapter 21

In the week since Avruellen’s arrival, things had fallen into a routine similar to when they were traveling, only this time, Bronwyn had someone to confide in.

Corrille commandeered all of Blayke’s time—she even watched when they practiced, grabbing his arm and leading him away
as soon as they had finished. One such afternoon, Bronwyn had called after her brother. “Blayke, do you want to have lunch with us?”

“Yeah, okay. Ouch!”

Corrille pinched Blayke’s bicep. “I told you: she hates me. I won’t be forced to spend time with her and your horrid aunt. They make me feel uncomfortable.”

Blayke rubbed his arm. “She’s my sister. I won’t shut her out again. I’ve hardly seen her all week. If you want to be with me, you’ll have to get used to it. Sorry.” He pushed away the urge to wince, but he held his breath, waiting for her outburst.

She let go of his arm and looked into his eyes—her face a mixture of vulnerability and tension, she reminded him of a rabid dog who wagged its tail before it went for the throat. “I’ll see you at dinner, and we’d better not be at
her
table.” She threw a venomous look at Bronwyn before stalking away.

“Wow
.” Aimee shook her head. “She really, really hates you. I know you said you didn’t do anything, but, just, wow.”

“It still hurts. She was my best friend from when we were little. I don’t understand, but I’ve accepted that I won’t be changing her mind anytime soon.” Bronwyn hugged Blayke. “Thank you. I’m sorry to cause problems, but I miss you.”

“I know. It was great to see her again, but…. I never realized how demanding she was. The gormons are coming soon, and I’d like to believe we’ll win, but one of us could be killed, and I never want to make the mistake of having turned my back on my family.”

Bronwyn smiled. “Thanks.”

“You’re a good guy, Blayke.” Aimee grinned. “Corrille doesn’t know how lucky she is.” She blushed but held his gaze.

Blayke stared into her eyes, a smile replacing his frown. “Thanks.”

“Does she know about your parents?” Aimee asked quietly.

Bronwyn shook her head. “Arcon doesn’t want everyone to know yet—he’s worried it will make us even more of a target for Leon and
the gormons.” The realmist’s stomach grumbled, making everyone laugh. “I think it’s time for lunch.”

“Good call. I’m starving.” Blayke linked arms with Bronwyn on one side, Aimee on the other, and they hurried to the dining hall, Sinjenasta close behind.

Bronwyn was surprised to see her uncle and aunt sitting with her mother and father at Valdorryn’s table. Things had been tense since they had arrived, and she had begged her mother to forgive them, but she knew the queen had been hurt beyond measure. She crossed her fingers that Gabrielle was finally accepting what she couldn’t change and forgiving those who had to act in Talia’s best interests while going against her family.

Verity looked at Bronwyn and patted the seat between her and Karin. “How’s the fireball stuff going?”

She sat, and Sinjenasta padded to sit next to the unlit hearth where no one would trip over him.

Bronwyn poured herself a glass of water. “Great. We’re all getting really accurate, and our distance is good too.”

“I wish I could learn.” The princess sighed.

“I don’t see why you can’t. I could even teach you a bit, but maybe not until the war is over. We haven’t really got time to get anywhere with it.”

“If we live through this, I’m holding you to that.” Verity shook her sister’s hand.

Bronwyn smiled. “Done.” But then she remembered she wouldn’t be here
, and her smile dropped from her face.

“What’s wrong?”

Bronwyn blinked. “Oh, ah, nothing. Just thinking of all the stuff we have to do when the day comes. It’s kinda scary.” She pressed on her shirt and felt the amulet underneath. What would happen when they were activated? No one knew. The only thing they did know was that sacrifices would have to be made. What did that mean? Would she be turned into a panther, like Sinjenasta, or would she have to die to get it to work. No, that would defeat the purpose. She wanted to talk to Blayke about what he thought, but now was not the time.

“Do you think your uncle will have second thoughts?”

Verity shifted in her chair and twirled a long lock between her fingers. “No. Leon’s not himself anymore, or maybe he’s more of himself than any of us ever knew.” She glanced at her father. “It’s just sad. How does someone get to that point?”

“I don’t know. I think some people are born that way.” Bronwyn spooned vegetable stew into her plate and some seasoned rice and
decided to listen into the adults’ conversation after she heard the word “soldiers”.”

“My cavalry are arriving on the morrow. How are we going to get them into Vellonia? I can’t see the horses enjoying that boat trip or a ride under a dragon.”

“We do have another, secret, entrance for animals. We use it when we want to move a herd from the outside in. But the soldiers will have to trust my dragons with their mounts, and they will have to go in the usual way.”

Alaine looked doubtful, but nodded. “As long as we don’t lose anyone, I’m happy.” Alaine thought back to Bayerlon, and the thousand men she had lost there. Some had managed to escape and were making their way back to their own city—Alaine didn’t want her people at the mercy of the gormons. She had provided
four-thousand cavalrymen, six-hundred archers and three-thousand armed footmen—a third of her existing army. The others she had left behind.

Edmund had suffered the most
losses, but he had eight-thousand cavalrymen who couldn’t have fought in the narrow streets. He had sent them on ahead, and they had arrived yesterday with Sarah and Karin.

They had left Fernis in Bayerlon—there hadn’t been time for the dragons to find him. They had received no news of his demise or survival. Before the night of the attack, he had sent orders home, to Brenland, to provide Vellonia with troops. Those troops were still days away.

“I think another meeting tonight is in order.” King Valdorryn picked a whole cooked chicken from his plate and popped it in his mouth.

“Does anyone know how Zim and Astra are doing? We really need them back. You know what the prophecy says about a united Talia.” Arcon was getting more worried each day that they hadn’t heard about the progress, or lack thereof, in Zamahl.

“I’ll try to contact them tonight,” said Pandellen.

The other thing still puzzling Arcon, and Queen Jaz, was the lack of progress with the scepter. They had examined the room at the
Heart of Vellonia and could find nothing to add to their limited knowledge of the piece. The only positive had been that none of the energy feeding the spires had been blocked.

Arcon placed his fork on the table and gazed across the room.
Crotus quickly averted his eyes from the realmist.
What are you planning?
the older man thought. There was another thing to add to the ever-growing list of what he had to watch out for. The realmist and his crow had given Arcon no reason to incarcerate them, or even suspect them. It was just a feeling he had, and his “feelings” were rarely wrong.

Arcon suspected he would find out about
Crotus’s duplicity at the worst possible moment. Well, he would have to be ready for anything.
I’m not giving up now. Elphus, I wish you were here, but not to worry—I think I’ll soon be joining you.
Sighing, he looked back at Crotus. The realmist was looking at him again, but this time he didn’t look away, and a smug smile briefly turned the corners of his mouth.

Knowing it was immature, but not caring one whit, Arcon, blue eyes sparkling, channeled power from the molten river under Vellonia. Heating it so
that it was scalding, he fashioned a needle and stabbed Crotus in the bottom before letting the power dissipate.

The bearded realmist jumped off his chair and screamed, drawing the gaze of every diner in the hall. He looked around, Second-Realm power drawn, but he could see nothing, and he knew no one else had drawn Second-Realm power. Gritting his teeth and resisting the urge to rub his sore derriere, he glared at Arcon. The old man smiled.
Two can play your game, but I can play it better.
With a satisfied smile, Arcon excused himself and partook of an afternoon stroll around the valley.