The Elf King (24 page)

Chapter 14

A
nkar Rie followed Kloe Datris through the castle halls, up
winding and twisting stairwells, through corridors packed with
people, and through halls absent of anyone, all the while sensing
something dreadfully wrong was approaching. It was a warning that
he could not ignore, one that had arrived upon entering the city
and only grew stronger as he walked through the castle. His magic
could nearly taste another presence, another magic at work, an evil
pricking his neck hair. His head remained level as he walked, eyes
alert and focused. He draped himself with his magic for protection;
the memories of the attack at Illken Dor were still very
fresh.

As they walked, Kloe Datris
spoke in hushed tones of the events that transpired since the death
of the King. He told the sorcerer of the change in the Queen’s
behavior since the disappearance of Prince Pal Rae, of her
isolation even from the presence of her husband, of her coldness,
her shrewdness, her lack of reasoning, and of her decision to rid
the world of council member Wilt Oan. Bringing Ankar Rie up to
speed meant releasing a lot of information in confidence, but he
found it necessary if the sorcerer was to help them.

“
I would be beheaded if she
knew what I’ve told you,” Kloe finished. He watched Ankar nod, the
agreement of secrecy in place.

“
It would only be natural
for a mother to react the way she has, given what she’s been
through. Her losses were very tough for her. Bitterness and anger
can often lead people to act in strange ways. They become so
wrapped up in their ill thoughts, that they slip so far out of
control they cannot tell what is right or wrong.”

“
I agree. But the Queen I
have seen lately is beyond your reasoning. I tell you, something is
wrong with her. She has not addressed the Council at all. Will not,
for that matter. She leaves her chamber during the night and I
cannot find her. Then she returns and speaks with no one. This is
beyond sulking, sorcerer. This is something far worse.”

“
You fear for what she will
do?”

“
I fear for the safety of
the Queen.”

“
I do not take your
judgments lightly,” Ankar nodded.

“
I am Head of the Red
Knights. My sole purpose is to protect the Royal family.” Kloe
Datris stopped walking and gave the sorcerer a look of
imprisonment. “And the only family left is the Queen.”

Ankar studied his eyes,
seeing into the man he was, reading a bit of his thoughts. The Red
Knight had a deep love for those he sought to protect. He felt a
sense of guilt for the death of the King and the Prince. A sense of
failure, perhaps. His grief was as tremendous as his pride, so his
emotional turmoil was new to him and he was fighting through the
despair that would hinder his actions. The Queen was all he had
left to protect now, and he was looking after her like she was one
of his own children. Ankar Rie smiled to his new friend and gave
him a pat on the shoulder for encouragement.

“
You are doing what you
can, Kloe Datris.”

The Head of the Red Knights
expression was hard like stone. “I will do whatever it takes to
keep her safe.”

Kloe Datris turned and
walked away then, leaving Ankar Rie to follow. He led him directly
towards the Queen’s chamber, not speaking again until they arrived
and were met by two other Red Knights. Introductions were brief and
to the point, finishing with the Red Knights taking their stations
next to the door.

Kloe Datris knocked at the
door gently. “My Queen, there is a visitor of urgency. May we
enter?”

No response. Kloe Datris
waited a few seconds, then repeated his request, opening the door
slightly first, making sure he was heard. When nothing came back,
he turned to the Red Knights and whispered something, then motioned
with his hand to Ankar Rie to follow him in.

Ankar walked into the room
and immediately felt the presence of something evil. He quickly
stepped in front of Kloe Datris and held his right arm outstretched
with his fingertips glowing blue, his other hand keeping Kloe back.
Something powerful was in the room. He could smell it. All his
warnings were blooming before him, his magic held at bay
protectively.

“
Stay back, Red Knight!
Call for your Queen.”

Kloe Datris’ heart pounded.
He saw no one in the room. “My Queen? Sienna?”

No answer. The room looked
as it should, the windows were closed and locked, there didn’t
appear to have been a struggle. The bed was made, though it
appeared that it had not been used recently. The two men stood at
the door and saw no sign of the Queen.

Blue light pulsated at
Ankar’s fingertips as the magic flowed through his arm and down to
his beating heart. Something was there. His heartbeat quickened.
The room had the stench of something foul. Nearly the same foulness
he had encountered at Illken Dor.

“
Stay alert.”

Ankar moved away from the
door, motioning for the Red Knight to remain where he was. He moved
slowly, working his way around dressers and tall standing mirrors,
a small table and chairs, to circle the large bed only to find the
room empty. He looked into the wall cabinets, the room-length
closets, and around the drapes. Still nothing. Once satisfied, he
walked over to a confused Kloe Datris.

“
Did your men see her
leave?”

Kloe Datris shook his head.
“She wouldn’t use the door anyway.”

Kloe Datris moved hurriedly
over to the far wall next to the closet. He pulled on a torch
bracket and a small section of the wall swung in. “If she left this
way, my men would know.”

Together they walked into
the secret tunnel where two of the Red Knights stood on watch. Kloe
Datris went to work questioning them on the whereabouts of the
Queen. They never saw her leave. Kloe believed them. He told them
to remain, and report to him when the Queen returns. He began to
step back in the bedroom, but Ankar Rie thought
otherwise.

“
Hold on,” the sorcerer
stopped in the doorway, Kloe turning back to see why. But Ankar Rie
could see what the others couldn’t. It was magic. Clear as
footprints in the sand, leading out of the Queen’s chamber and down
the tunnel. The scent was terribly foul. The magic was strong, he
knew. Whatever had passed that way from the room would surely be
able to sense his own presence. Which is why it fled, he
thought.

“
What is it?” Kloe stared
down the tunnel. “What do you see?”

Ankar Rie knelt down and
rubbed one hand across the stone block flooring. He closed his eyes
and concentrated, reading the magic for expiration. The air was
still stirring with the scent though, meaning that it was fresh.
Ankar Rie opened his eyes quickly and stood.

“
Whatever was in the
Queen’s room, left just before we arrived. I can only assume that
the Queen was with it.”

“
We saw no one,” a Red
Knight replied quickly, the other nodding at his side.

“
Its power may be strong
enough that it cannot be seen, should it choose to be so.” Ankar
turned to Kloe Datris, their faces were mirrored concern. “I need
you to be on full alert. The Queen is in grave danger. Wait for my
return. Do not follow.”

Without waiting for a
reply, Ankar Rie moved quickly away, feeling the scent of the other
magic growing stronger.

W
hen
Wilt Oan came to it was nearly
midday. He awoke with a start, jumping to his feet before he even
remembered where he was. But it all came back to him quickly as he
saw the bodies. He had to get out of there now. Before it was too
late.

He bolted for the door and
ran, not knowing where he was going; it really didn’t matter at
this point. Oan knew if he stayed there long enough, whatever it
was would show up again and he might not be so lucky then. He had
to find Kloe Datris and tell the Red Knight what he saw; he knew of
no one else he could trust. The Queen herself demanded his death.
Or rather the creature posing as the Queen. But it didn’t matter.
For everyone else, she was Sienna. And her word stood.

Wilt Oan ran through the
narrow corridor as fast as he could, passing like a ghost by the
flaming torches hung in brackets, breathing hard from his mouth as
the sweat beads along his wrinkled forehead began to trickle down
his worried face into his thick white beard. He passed by a series
of thin cracks in the wall that he knew to be an outline to another
room or passage. An untrained eye would miss it completely, but Oan
was more experienced than most when it came to the hidden
corridors.

The castle was full of
secrets. Rooms and tunnels were not excluded.

But just as Wilt passed by
the secret doorway, something else brought him to a skidding halt.
About ten yards ahead of him the corridor angled to the right.
Along the curve he saw a shadow on the wall heading directly
towards him. Wilt panicked. He backpedaled as fast as he could,
turned around and ran back to the door outline and frantically
began searching for a trigger to open the door. Pressing the stone
blocks around the frame seemed like a logical idea, but none
budged. He looked down the corridor to see the shadow growing. In
moments the figure would round the curve and he would be
spotted.

Out of anger, the old man
pushed the door. To his surprise, the section of bricks slid
inward. Instantly Oan was pushing his way into the room and closing
the door behind him. Seconds later, with his back pressed against
the door and his breathing held, he heard the footsteps of someone
rushing past without slowing. Oan went back to breathing hard
again, relieved, and more anxious than ever to be free of the
tunnels.

He remained standing for a
few moments as he was busy thinking, and he took notice to what his
eyes were seeing in the room. Books. Shelves of huge leather-bound
books. In the darkened interior, he could see that he was in a
library of some sort. He had never known of hidden books in the
castle; it had several libraries hosting thousands of books. But
this one was different. This one was important.

Realizing its need for
secrecy, Wilt Oan moved away from the door and stepped further into
the gloom. He was astonished by the volume of pages the books held.
Sliding one off the shelf, he blew a sheet of dust off it before
regrettably sneezing. He opened the old cover and began to skim
through. The pages were so frail, so old. The ink was faint and the
dialect proved the book to be hundreds of years old. In the dark,
he could barely even see the print. But he knew he had stumbled
upon something precious. Something he should not know
about.

He carefully made his way
into the room, finding a small table near the center, with two
small chairs and a lantern. Lying next to the lantern were two flat
stones which he struck together to spark the fire in the lantern.
The dim light lit the room from wall to wall, floor to low ceiling.
Wilt Oan smiled. Starting at one end of the room, he proceeded to
skim through each book with fascination. It didn’t take him long to
figure out that he had found a treasure of history books. The
Lineage books were packed with events and people long since
forgotten, but important nonetheless.