Dragon Legends (Return of the Darkening Book 2) (14 page)

With a flourish of his hand, he guided me into the steps. He moved stiffly, but he was a skilled dancer. I followed the steps, starting to remember the lessons that had been the fate of every Flamma child—Ryan and Reynalt had hated dancing. We turned once around the circle, and I kept wondering how I could bring up the subject of the Memory Stone. Should I just blurt it out?”

We had to turn again, and the king took my hand and said, “I only regret it is I and not my son here to be dancing with you.”

Well, that was an opening. “Yes, I understand Prince Justin is…out on a special training mission. The last time I saw him…well, he seemed to have forgotten a few things.”

The movements of the dance made us turn and step apart. I started to chew on the inside of my lower lip. I was sweating now, and I wondered if this really was the best place to talk to the king. What if he didn’t believe me?

King Durance stepped back and took my hands again, his face smiling and bland. I glanced around—I couldn’t ask the king to leave the dance floor without everyone seeing us. I could see everyone was watching, even if they were pretending to dance.

I saw my mother, beaming proudly, Lady Gertrude, next to Mother with her face set in stern, judging lines. For a wild moment, I wondered if I was going to be pushed into marrying Prince Justin. The prince was…well, he was handsome and he seemed nice, but I wasn’t sure anyone would let a princess or a queen remain a Dragon Rider. Of course, in the past, princesses had been Dragon Riders.

Turning back to face the king, I pulled in a breath. “Your Majesty, there are things wrong in the kingdom you must know about.”

He gave a vague nod. “Yes, but not at this very instant.”

The faces whirled around me as King Durance spun me around. Was something wrong here? My stomach lurched and my head started to pound. I could see the king was smiling—probably enjoying the proof that he wasn’t so old yet. I glanced around us, trying to find a way to be private with the king. My head was pounding even harder now, and then I saw him.

For the briefest of moments, he stood out from the others, a tall, thin man with pale skin, long dark hair held back with a strand of silver such as the kings of old might wear, a thin beard and dressed in black. I’d never forget that narrow face, or those eyes, which seemed to be more like a dragon’s eyes.

Lord Vincent—the man who’d almost killed me.

I stumbled. The king caught me, and I heard a ripple of whispers rush through the room.

“I’m…sorry, Your Majesty,” I said, looking at my shoes on the floor. I had embarrassed him, and my mother would be furious. The king stopped dancing, and so the music stopped as well.

The king bowed to me. “The fault was all mine. I led too fast.” I wondered if he meant it, and when I looked into his eyes I saw only kindness. “However, I am sure my son is a much better, and safer, dancer than I.”

The smile I gave him back felt stiff and false. My headache faded, but my stomach was knotted and I could feel the sweat cooling on my skin.

How do I tell him I’d just seen his sworn enemy here?

I opened my mouth, but I glanced around and now I couldn’t see the man in black. Had I really seen him? Was the Memory Stone in use and making me remember things—perhaps even making me see someone who wasn’t here? I shivered, suddenly cold. What if the man Seb and I had met last night wasn’t really Commander Hegarty’s brother—what if he’d done something to all of us, Kalax included?

Not knowing what to do, I let the king lead me back to my mother. But instead of disappointment, she stared at me, tears of pride and joy glittering unshed in her eyes.

The king bowed to her and said, “Esmerelda, please forgive me for overtiring your daughter. The prince will be furious with me.” With a smile, he turned away.

I started to go after him, but my mother grabbed me in a hug. I could smell her perfume of roses and I tried not to struggle. “Oh my child,” she said and held me back at arm’s length. “It was perfect. I couldn’t have planned it better. The way you stumbled, the way he held you up—he acted the perfect father-in-law, gentleman and protector. The match has to go ahead—anyone can see it.”

Blinking, I stared at her. “Match? What match? And did you see a man in black watching us? With a narrow face and black hair and—”

“Forget such nonsense. You and Prince Justin! Think of it—the House Flamma allied to the throne. You’ve made your family proud.” She hugged me again.

I started to protest that I was not about to make a match of anyone, but a flash of silver and black hair caught my eye. Pulling away, I called out, “Sorry, Mother. I…I must use the…the ladies retiring room.” Pushing past the other dancers, I strained to see over the heads of those crowded around me. I also touched a hand to the knife hidden in my sleeve.

If it was Lord Vincent, I was going to find him. This time, I’d kill him.

Dancers kept whirling across my path, so I headed to the side of the room and glimpsed a tall man in a black, brocade coat. From the back, his hair was the right shade of black and the right length—long and dark.

A twinge pinched my side, just under my rib cage—the spot where Lord Vincent’s blade had struck. Cold spread through my body. I gasped as I remembered the wave of darkness that pulled me down.

From the enclosure, I sensed Kalax raising her head and snuffling the air.
Thea hurt?

I’m fine, really, I’m fine,
I thought back, but I knew she could sense the lie. My heart was pounding, sweat dampened my upper lip and forehead. My breath was coming in short gasps.

An exuberant young man bumped into me, almost spilling his wine over me. I stepped back, annoyed at the distraction. I also pulled the knife from my sleeve. But I kept thinking,
why would Lord Vincent be here?

If he had the Memory Stone, he had no need to attend a ball. What could he want?

The man in black now only stood a short distance from me. He was about the right height—and he had that narrow build that had been burned into my memory. I eased closer.

The man in black was talking to another man, this one a stocky fellow who dressed in the red and gold of the palace guards. That had to be captain of the watch. My stomach knotted and I stepped even closer.

I heard a voice as smooth as velvet, fine and cultured with the slightest hint of an accent that I couldn’t quite place. Slapping my left hand down on the man’s arm, I spun him around, my knife ready in my other hand.

The cold and clear eyes of a stranger looked down at me with surprise and disdain. It wasn’t him. This man didn’t look anything like Lord Vincent. Yes, he had a narrow face, but his features were…well, blurred. As if roughened by drink or age.

A wave of pain swept up my back. I swayed. My head was pounding and I felt sick.

“Good heavens, Lady Agathea?” The man in uniform offered me his hand, and so did the man in black. Something—an unwillingness to touch him—stopped me. I couldn’t think why I couldn’t bear his touch, but I just couldn’t. I was having trouble thinking—or even breathing. It was like being under water—everything seemed so far away right now. I turned away, and the room seemed to spin around me.

“Perhaps you should sit down,” the stranger said, his voice a soft purr. A buzzing, like a swarm of insects started in my ears.

Stumbling away, I mumbled, “Sorry…sorry.” I made it to a wall and leaning against the heavy tapestry there that covered the stone. Fumbling with my knife, I tucked it back into its sheath in my sleeve. How could I have been so wrong? And yet…was I? Wasn’t I feeling how I always did when one of the stones was near? Why couldn’t I think?

Mother loomed up in front of me. “Agathea Flamma, just what do you think you are doing, rushing off like that, saying first you need the facilities, and then…then speaking with an utter stranger. I wonder if he is one of the southern lords.”

“Mother, I must sit down,” I said. I rubbed at my temples. My head felt like it was in a vice. “I really must.”

She pushed a goblet into my hands. “Drink that, child—and please do not have the poor taste to faint. Now I promised the Van-Stoutgartens we’d join them in the group dance. You’ll only have to pick up your feet for a couple of turns and then you can sit down all you like.”

I groaned. Group dances were always exuberant movements, with long lines of people crisscrossing, exchanging elbow-holds and forming circles. It was almost a game with some to stay dancing as long as they—or the musicians—could stand it. I groped along the wall for a chair and started to sink into it.

But Mother grabbed my elbow and pushed the goblet into my hands. “Agathea, drink, please. And do recall that you cannot dance with King Durance and no one else. Think of the scandal. It will be whispered that you’ve become his new flirt, and that is not something even the House of Flamma can overcome. Come—one more dance and we shall leave.”

I threw back the wine. The strong, sweet liquid helped clear my head—the buzzing in my ears eased. So did the pounding in my head. And I knew Mother was right. The group dance didn’t involve any partner dancing. It was the perfect dance for declaring no particular romantic interest to anyone.

It would also give me another moment to look around the ballroom for a man in black with long, black hair held back with silver, a narrow face, and empty eyes.

Mother shuffled me to the others as if I was ten again. The bandy-legged, balding, but intensely cheery Baron Van-Stoutgarten and his wife welcomed us to the group. I glanced around, but could see no one in black.

The music started and I had to mind the steps.

Three steps to the left, curtsey and sway forward.

This was one of the most well-loved dances in Torvald, almost every child, noble or peasant, learned it from a young age. The baron smiled cheerily, clapping his hands before we locked elbows and spun. That gave me another chance to scan the room, and still no man in black—not even the stranger who had been talking with the watch captain.

I almost missed a step and a young gentleman who had been about to lock elbows with me had to grab my hand instead. I spun him a little too hard, and he staggered, and suddenly I was looking at the Baroness Van-Stoutgarten.

She grinned at me. “It seems we’ve missed a step somewhere. Oh, well, the men will have to dance together too.”

Another bob and two steps misplaced saw me collide with the Count of Rhiasa, who laughed good-naturedly, but I could tell he was annoyed, and once he turned away, I heard him say, “Clearly her feet are more used to military marches now, and not dance steps.”

Well, they were.

The dance ended with a scattering of polite applause, whispers and stifled sniggers. I swung around, hands on my hips, just about daring anyone to offer me pity or scorn. I didn’t care what they thought. I’d been chosen by a dragon—not just a dragon, but a red. I was a Flamma. I had danced tonight with a king.

And I was going to find out if Lord Vincent was here if I had to attack every man in black. Pushing through the crowd, I started my search again. I made it to one of the side refreshment tables when someone hissed at me.

I turned and saw a servant dressed in a white shirt and brown leggings. He looked up and I recognized the brown eyes at once. “Seb?” How could a shirt and leggings make such a difference? He looked…well, broader than he often did in his riding clothes. And…and cleaner and…well, he looked almost handsome with his face scrubbed and his long, lean arms and legs so clearly defined. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Thea, something’s not right.”

I rolled my eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know. Now you’d better go before you get caught.” I started to move away, but Seb reached out to grab my elbow.

A shadow fell over us both and I looked up to see Lord Westerforth scowling at us. “Lady Agathea, is this…this wretch bothering you?”

He had his boys in tow, the older one looking on eagerly, the younger one looking even more miserable.

“No, Lord Westerforth, it’s fine, really. We were just…” Pushing out a breath, I gave up on being polite. I was done with lies, and I didn’t even know why. “You know, Lord Westerforth, you shouldn’t be so hard on your sons. If you were nicer to them, they’d not only be better sons, but actually might turn into someone you could like. A dragon might even pick one as a rider.”

“What…what did you just say?”

“It seems obvious to me.” I blinked. But I couldn’t remember why I’d just said that. Looking past him, I saw I wasn’t the only one having problems.

The dancing in the ballroom had dissolved into a confusing tangle of people, some beginning to argue with each other and others just staring at the floor as if they couldn’t remember how to move their feet. The musicians were play at least three different tunes all—not all of them on key, and

“The Winter Ball never used to be this exciting,” I muttered.

And couldn’t remember why I was here.

‘Ware, Thea. Remember.

The world suddenly seemed to shake and rocked on its side. I was falling to the floor, my mind empty, but then a voice rose up and seized my thoughts.
Kalax. Remember!
Blinking, I put a hand to my head.

Whatever Kalax had done, she had shaken the fog that had been settling around my mind and rising up through my bones.