A Time of Darkness (The Circle of Talia) (10 page)

“Just make sure you come back, too.” Their kiss this time was almost frantic: a promise. The soldiers averted their eyes, not wanting to intrude on this moment that was more than their king and queen saying a common goodbye—it was the goodbye of a soldier and his lover when both knew it could be the last.

The clop of hooves on the flagstones as the soldiers left the palace courtyard was to Gabrielle a lonely sound; it was the sound of her husband leaving for war.

The queen turned, and Sarah followed her inside to where Agmunsten, the dragons, and Arie sat. Two tables had to be brought into the larger reception room to accommodate Zim and Arcese. Arie, Boy, and Agmunsten sprawled on an upholstered lounge that featured blue and white stripes—the Laraulen colours. They stood and bowed. Gabrielle sat, and Agmunsten returned to the seat next to her. “Are you all ready?” she asked.

“Yes, my queen. We’re leaving tonight. Darkness will hide our whereabouts. We should reach Klendar in three days—a lot earlier than King Edmund. We’re hoping this will be over with before the army even gets there. Sending the army out is a ruse that will hopefully fool Leon into thinking he has more time. With a bit of luck, we’ll have Princess Verity out of there before Leon knows what’s happened.”

Gabrielle’s jaw tightened. “I prefer the name Edmund has chosen.”

“As you wish.” Agmunsten nodded. “In any case, I don’t think old Blackheart just woke up one morning and thought, ‘I might go and kill the Inkran King today.’ If he’s had this planned for a while, there could be other spies in the castle. Do not trust anyone, and if anyone asks, Zim and Arcese have flown us back to Vellonia.”

Gabrielle nodded. “I’m going to miss you. At least I’ll have Boy and Sarah to keep me company.” Boy kept the disappointment from his face. It’s not that he disliked the queen, but he wanted to
do
something to help get Verity back, and staying with Gabrielle was a constant reminder of his betrayal. He wished he could ride on the dragon with Arie; that was something he dreamed of but dared not ask—those dragons had sharp teeth.

Boy looked at the queen. “Is it okay if I say goodbye to Arie now? I don’t feel too good.”

“Oh, no. Are you sick? Come here.” Boy kneeled at the queen’s feet, and she touched his forehead with the back of her hand. “I don’t think you have a temperature. Maybe it’s something you ate. Very well. Say goodbye now and go and have a rest.”

Boy embraced Arie. “It’s been fun. See you soon, I hope.”

“Me too. It’s a shame you can’t come to Inkra.” Arie looked hopefully at Queen Gabrielle. She shook her head.

“I won’t risk another child, and if I had my way, you’d stay here too.”

Arie shrugged at Boy. “Sorry. I tried. I’d better shut up before I’m stuck here too.”

“I miss out on all the fun.” Boy sighed before bowing to the dragons. “It was an honor to meet you, Sir and Lady Dragon.”

Zim laughed, a deep vibration Boy felt as well as heard. “You can call me Zim, and my sister is Arcese. We’re friendly, you know.” He winked, and Boy smiled.

“Bye.” With that, Boy shuffled out and made his way to his room where a packed bag waited under his bed. He didn’t like lying, and he knew the queen would be angry when she found he was gone, but that was a small thing compared to what he’d already done. He would help get Princess Verity back if it was the last thing he did.

After the queen left them, Zim spoke in the realmists’ minds.
I’ve scried Boy’s symbol. There’s something about him I don’t trust. If we need to know where he is in the future, I’ll be able to find him.

Arie felt he had to defend his friend,
He’s okay. He’s had a tough childhood, which he won’t really talk about, but I can’t see him being a danger to anyone. He’s loyal to the queen because Leon saved him somehow
.

And that just supports what I’m saying. Where does his loyalty lie, hmm? With Leon, or the king and queen? Wasn’t he there when Princess Verity was taken?

You’re not suggesting….
Arie’s eyes widened.

Agmunsten rubbed a finger across his brow
and spoke aloud. “He’s right, Arie. If it smells like dragon poo and looks like dragon poo, it probably is dragon poo.”

“I beg your pardon?” Arcese pinioned Agmunsten with dangerous dragon eyes.

“Oops, sorry. Forgot you were there.”

“I don’t know what’s more insulting.” Arcese folded her scaly arms and swished her tail back and forth like an angry cat.

“Sorry, Arcese; you know I was only joking, right?”

“I’m not known for my sense of humor, Realmist. Watch I don’t burn you to a crisp.” Agmunsten’s mouth twisted down as he contemplated whether he was about to become charcoal, and then Arcese laughed—the smooth, musical laugh Arie loved. Zim’s chuckle vibrated the chair on which the realmists lounged.

Agmunsten looked sideways at Arcese. “Hmph.”

“Laugh it up, old man,” said Zim. “It could be the last one you have for a while.”

“Thanks for reminding me, dragon boy.” Agmunsten smiled at his own joke. “I’m hungry. Where’s lunch?”

“I’m looking at it,” said Zim, staring at Agmunsten. Agmunsten pretended to be horrified, eliciting more laughter.

Zim was right—what they were about to do was dangerous, and even if they came back alive, no one wanted to be the one to tell the queen that Verity was dead. Agmunsten let the laughter wash the negative thoughts away. They would get there in time: yes indeed, they would.

After travelling for five days, Bronwyn was tired and grateful to be eating a dinner of stewed vegetables and slightly-stale bread. She looked around the camp, first at Sinjenasta who shielded their symbols, then at Blayke and Arcon as they ate a dinner consisting of vegetable stew and dried beef.

“How come you eat meat? I didn’t think any realmists would eat meat.” This was a point she wanted to bring up before, but felt she hadn’t known them well enough.

“It tastes good,” Blayke replied.

“But what about the animal? Surely after bonding with Fang, you can see animals have feelings and thoughts, just like us? Would you eat a person?”

“Of course not. What do you think I am?”

“My brother.” She couldn’t resist—after so long with no sibling, it felt good to use the word.

He grinned. “Ha, so I am. I’m still not used to it. I’m kind of sorry we didn’t get the chance to grow up together; it would have been fun to have someone to tease.”

“I’m sure I would have won most of the arguments.” Bronwyn beamed.

“Nah, I would.”

“No, I would.”

“Stop it, children!” Arcon laughed. “If you want to make up for lost time, do it when I’m not around—I’m too old to listen to children arguing.” It had been an awkward couple of days after telling them his secret, but eventually both teens had forgiven him. Arcon had been so relieved when he was certain Blayke still loved him that he had quietly cried. His old heart was not as impervious as he
thought. He soaked up the feeling of familial camaraderie like a cat sunning himself on a sun-bleached porch.

Blayke, who was sitting next to his uncle, put a hesitant hand on his shoulder—open affection was something they didn’t regularly practice. “I want you to know that even when I meet my father, I’ll still think of you like a dad. You’ve been more than an uncle to me. I know it wasn’t my dad’s fault he didn’t bring me up, but I know you love me. And even if I am still a bit angry when I think about what happened, it would kill me to lose you.” A crooked smile and a pat on the back was all Arcon could manage without crying. Blayke knew his Uncle was sad and looked away.

“That was beautiful.” Bronwyn smiled and leaned against Sinjenasta. The panther nuzzled her arm, and Bronwyn sneezed.

“Gee, Bronwyn, since I’ve known you, you’ve had a cold,” Blayke observed.

“I have, haven’t I?” She thought for a while. “The first time I remember sneezing and sniffling was in Vellonia, right before, well, you know.” She thought that killing Symbothial would forever be a painful memory.

Arcon spoke. “So it started just after you met Sinjenasta?”

“Yes.”

“Bury your face in Sinjenasta’s fur.”

“What?”

“Rub your nose and face in his fur,” Arcon instructed. Bronwyn turned around, placed her arms around her creatura and sunk her nose into his shiny, black fur. After a moment, she sat up, and a barrage of sneezes assaulted her. She wiped watering eyes.

“Well, that settles it,” said Arcon.

“Settles what? Achooo!”

“You’re allergic to Sinjenasta.”

“What? That can’t be right; he’s my creatura.” Sinjenasta sat up, blinking, and Bronwyn wore a horrified expression.

Blayke laughed until he, too, had tears in his eyes. “Dragons’ balls! Who’s ever heard of anyone being allergic to their creatura.”

Bronwyn sniffed. “It’s not funny. That means I can’t go near him unless I want to have watering eyes and a red nose all the time.”

“And sneezing is not conducive to sneaking,” said Sinjenasta.

“No, it’s not,” Fang agreed.

“So what in the Third Realm am I supposed to do?”

“I’ll see what I can come up with. If I don’t have any remedies, your aunt might know what will help—she’s always been better than me with herbs.”

“Don’t worry, Bronny. You can still love me from afar.” Sinjenasta winked.

“Ha, ha. Very funny. Why can’t you be allergic to me? Why is it that people are allergic to animals, yet you’re not allergic to us?”

“Just lucky, I guess.” Sinjenasta licked a giant paw and cleaned his face.

“I think Drakon should help; he’s the one who made us bond.”

Blayke’s voice held bitterness Arcon had never before heard, “Drakon’s help comes with a high price—avoid asking him for anything.”

“That’s a bit harsh.”

“He’s right, Bronwyn. Sometimes it’s better living with the gormon you know.” Sinjenasta’s mind voice sounded resigned.

“Hmph. All the sneezing’s made me tired. I think I’ll turn in.” She felt sorry for herself that she couldn't snuggle up to Sinjenasta whenever she wanted—he’d become a comfort since she’d been separated from her aunt and best friend, Corrille. She burrowed farther into her bedroll, her back to the small fire, and shut her eyes. The sooner she fell asleep, the sooner it would be time to start on the last leg of their trip. She would see Corrille and Avruellen again tomorrow afternoon—a time she longed for, and dreaded. Arcon hadn’t told Avruellen their secret was out, and Bronwyn had no idea how her aunt would react. Bronwyn had many questions to ask and would be angry if they weren’t answered. As much as she would be happy to see her aunt, she was also ready for a battle of wills, which up to now was something she had never won against her aunt. She fell asleep listening to the soft murmur of Arcon and Blayke’s conversation—whatever happened tomorrow, she was finally part of a family. No one was going to take that away from her again.

***

Avruellen woke happy—well, as happy as one could be when gormons were skulking around Talia. Today she would see her niece again. She couldn’t scry for Arcon and Bronny—Agmunsten had warned her they would be shielding on the way, so she had to wait the old-fashioned way. It would be a relief to see them. Even though Carpus was a quaint enough town, she couldn’t shield herself for so long without dying from the effort, and creaturas didn’t have the skills to shield—that seemed to be a gift given from the gods to humans—so Flux couldn’t help. As a result, she felt like the lone gozzleberry pie at a culinary festival for hungry people—it was only a matter of time before the gormons, or whoever had been watching her, would stick their claws in. Her one consolation was the true dream she’d had last night. She dreamt of Bronwyn rubbing her face into the giant panther, which was odd. The image only lasted for a minute—long enough for her to see Bronwyn sneezing uncontrollably; she hoped she wasn't getting a cold. Avruellen knew they were due sometime today, so she dressed with an enthusiasm she hadn’t felt in a while.

She strolled the length of the town and back again, trying to project an air of calm, but when she’d finished, not only was she not tired, she was bored. Even though it was dangerous, Avruellen decided to walk towards where her niece would be coming from and meet them on the way. She called to Flux, telling him to meet her one mile from Carpus.

As Avruellen walked the well-worn dirt path, the ferocious winds that, on her arrival, had raked the yellowing shafts of grass until they lay flat upon the ground, had dissipated to a steady breeze that bent the long blades to a sighing crescent. The overnight change in the weather had come as a surprise after the constant thrashing upon the coast—
how fortuitous,
she thought. The captain she had spoken to previously would be ready to sail in the morning, then. Avruellen and Arcon would have one day to catch up before they sailed. She bit the inside of her cheek as she thought about the news she had to share—just thinking about it made the hairs on her arms stand on end.

A high-pitched squeal broke her thoughts. She turned to see Flux trotting towards her, his orange-and-white muzzle peeking above the flax-colored stems. He howled again.