The Royal Wizard (24 page)

When she asked the dragon if their lone god could truly exist, he’d not given her an answer. Her people lived every day with the reminder of the gods who ruled them. Kind gods, fickle gods, gods who reveled in toying with people’s lives. Gods who feasted on war, drenching the earth in blood.

Gods who could bring a man back from the dead, grant him immortality and divine strength. Though one had never ventured into Wilderheim, stories of berserkers traveled to them from far and wide on the wings of messenger birds; on the wind itself. Beautiful maidens in shining armor walked the battlefields, choosing from among the fallen only the strongest, bravest, to take their place of honor in Valhalla.

To these knights, stories of her gods had seemed as strange as their god seemed to her. Perhaps it didn’t matter what one believed in, but that they believed. Having someone to revere, or even fear, kept a person humble.

In the morning, when she walked out of the cave with the dragon and told him this, all he said was, “The mind feels what it needs to.” Puzzled twice over, she tried to come up with her own answer as he led her over the frozen field to a sturdy stable she didn’t remember having seen before. Inside the mounts happily chewed on clumps of hay, clean and warm, though they fidgeted when the dragon approached.

“You wish to ask me something,” the dragon man said.

“Do you not already know what my question is?” Nia replied in surprise.

He shook his head, gazing into the mount’s eyes. “You grow strong with my blood. I can only get impressions now, unless you allow me entrance to your mind.”

He seemed completely unperturbed about that. An ancient and powerful being, a dragon, had given her a weapon against him without batting an eyelash, and even now showed not a hint of unease, as if the mere fact that she was who she was should keep her from using it against him. How could he trust her so?

Or was it that Nia was so weak and puny that she posed no threat to him at all, even with the added strength of his own blood? That seemed far more likely and she nodded to herself, satisfied with her own conclusion for the moment.

“Ask already, I grow impatient.”

 “I wanted to see your true form.”

He faced her then, something akin to surprise on his handsome face. “You have seen it. In my memories.”

“But only through your own eyes and we never see ourselves as we truly are,” she said pragmatically.

The dragon’s mouth quirked. “Perhaps another time,” he said. And before she could reply, he made his manner brisk and nodded to the horses. “I have procured mounts to replace the ones you have lost. You should start getting ready. They will not let me near them and the sun is rising. It is time you kept your promise.” 

PART THREE

CONVERGENCE
 

CHAPTER 24

On a good night, the king slept undisturbed, lying still as death, his chest barely rising and falling with breath. On a good night, the priests and magic men and women lit black candles in his bedchamber, surrounded his bed and chanted prayers in ancient tongues, terrifying Mari and making her wish she had never come to this cursed place.

Tonight wasn’t a good night.

King Saeran screamed as if his soul was being torn out of him and Mari started awake from her slumber. She must have slept longer than she thought. The fire had died down to embers and she was chilled to the bone. Heart pounding, Mari rose from her hard seat by the hearth and went to her dying husband.

Saeran tossed and flailed on the bed, screaming louder than anything she’d ever heard from him. She caught his arm, but he shook her off so violently she fell to the floor. From there she watched her husband scratch at his neck and chest, still screaming. Helpless sobs tore out of her and she covered her ears to block out his cries, but it didn’t help.

Guards and healers rushed in and took hold of Saeran’s limbs to subdue him. They called his name, tried to tell him to stop, that he was safe, that they would get him well again, but the more they spoke, the more he thrashed and Mari couldn’t stand it.

“Stop it,” she whispered. Then louder, “Stop it. Stop it!
Stop!
”

Saeran’s body bowed off the bed, and a blood curling bellow tore out of him. “
Niaaa!!
” The fire blazed to renewed life, and Mari screamed in fright. The guards and healers fell away from Saeran and she gasped. He was glowing. The fire didn’t simply illuminate his sickly pale skin, it was inside him, burning beneath the surface like a lantern.

Saeran collapsed back onto the bed and the fire dimmed, in the hearth and inside him. Muttering prayers, calling on all the gods they could name, the healers approached him carefully and touched his skin.

Mari became light headed and sucked in a breath. She’d forgotten to do that. “Is he dead?” she demanded.

The healers looked to each other and shook their heads with sorrow. “No change,” they proclaimed.

No change? Were they blind? Saeran had glowed!

Becoming aware of the noises behind her, Mari turned to see the servants spying through the open door. “Out,” Mari commanded, picking herself up off the floor. “All of you out!”

The guards took charge, herding everyone back as the healers made their exit. The hallway cleared slowly, but just before the last healer closed the door, Mari saw Jasper standing there, smirking at her.

Shuddering, she quickly barred the door from the inside and backed away from it, all the way to Saeran’s bed. There, she fell to her knees and prostrated herself, praying and begging her gods to have mercy; bargaining with them to demand whatever price they would of her, but spare the king she loved.

She cried and sobbed, pleaded and made promises she wasn’t certain she could keep. She even prayed for Nia to return, for if anyone knew how to help him, the wizard was she. And when she finally ran out of words and tears, she became aware of noises coming from the bed. Whispers, harsh and broken.

Mari stood up and faced Saeran, watched his parched lips move to form the words, but she couldn’t make them out. Drawing closer, she leaned in to put her ear almost at his mouth.

“…kissed you…time stopped…love you, Nia. Please…until death or longer.”

Mari’s heart broke at his words and she clutched her chest to soothe a pain almost too great to bear.

She kissed his brow, caressed his icy cheek and pulled the covers up to his chest. Feeling fragile as an eggshell, she went back to the hearth and stoked the fire until it blazed. It was for him more than Mari; the cold no longer bothered her. Nothing did anymore.

The maids had brought trays of food for them both. All of it sat untouched by the door, as it had all day long because Mari was too unsettled to eat a thing. She retrieved a bowl of broth and set it near the fire to warm while she adjusted the pillows beneath Saeran’s head to raise him up a little.

Then she sat next to him and patiently fed him a spoonful at a time until he would take no more. He must have been hungry. By the time she was finished, most of the broth was gone and very little had spilled. Mari cleaned Saeran up, settled him back on the bed and laid down next to him. She knew now what needed to be done.

Tomorrow she would write a message to her father. Saeran had fulfilled his duty to the
shansher
, and there was no more need to keep up this pretense. Whether he lived or not, there was no place for Mari in his heart or his kingdom. She didn’t blame him; how could she? Saeran had been nothing but kind to her. But it wasn’t enough. Her father would understand. He was a proud man, but not a heartless one.

He would take her in even if, by returning, she brought shame to the family. Mari could make her father see why she had to come back, but to everyone else she would forever be the abandoned wife, a cast out, pitied or reviled, never to marry again. Perhaps it was for the best. Mari didn’t want another husband. All she wanted was a little tent of her own, far from prying eyes and wagging tongues, to live out her life in peace.

She would fulfill her own duty to Saeran. She would stay by his side and nurse him until she gave birth to the child who would one day become a king or queen after him.

But once Mari was fit to travel, she would go back home where she belonged.

CHAPTER 25

Ten days after they rode out, the company of travelers came to the edge between the dragon’s territory and the rest of the world, a clear line of demarcation across the land. It was at this border that the snow gave way to green grass in such a way that trees straddling it were half green and half barren. Nia spared it a brief glance as they crossed, noting absently that the transition hadn’t seemed so sharp going the other way.

They rode at a slow, steady pace, rarely stopping for food or sleep. The knights might be in a hurry to return home as heroes now that they’d found their coveted cup, but Nia felt no such compulsion. Her mind was weighed with thoughts of what she had discovered. There was so much she had to tell Saeran, and knowing he wouldn’t want to hear any of it made her as reluctant to return as the idea of meeting his young queen.

It hurt.

More than it should, far more than the dragon’s ordeal, the surety that her voice, no matter how needful, might fall on deaf ears hurt worse than any physical pain. Saeran was angry with her for having refused him and would turn to his queen for the advice Nia ought to give. The king knew his people, but Nia knew his lands.

She sighed. Fighting a battle with herself was useless. Of course she had a place at his side; she was a wizard. Nico had not chosen her for nothing. She was meant to advise the king and aid him, no matter how stubborn he was.

Nia held her hand out before her and gathered magic into her palm. Aided by the dragon’s blood and her own emotion, the pool of light was red with a mixture of love and anger. It came to her so easily now she had to be careful not to draw too much. She watched the surface move like a lake, glistening pure. Curling her fingers, she tipped her hand sideways and let the power pour out. It laid a path in the air alongside her like a trail of fireflies.

When the last drop fell, she swirled her hand and the ribbon of red light curled in on itself to form a circle that kept spinning, following her progress down the little used forest path. She touched the bottom edge with a fingertip, pulling on it to alter the circle’s shape. The dip she created filled up and formed a bubble. Then the bubble changed, sharpening at the edges into a five-sided disc, a pendant for the chain. When at last Nia was satisfied that all five sides were equal, she blew on the pendant, searing the shape of a dragon in flight into its surface.

Holding her hand out to her creation she whispered an ancient word of protection into its depths and sealed it. The finished pendant and chain dropped into her hand, formed in pure silver. Nia lifted it to the light to inspect her handiwork. The chain was heavy, as befitted something so elemental. As for the pendant, the dragon had ruby eyes and each visible fang was a diamond chip.  The play of light over him gave the dragon an illusion of motion, as if he truly lived and the fire he breathed changed color like oil in water. It stayed warm to the touch, even after the rest of the pendant had cooled in the chill air.

The pendant was a work of art, mesmerizing and entrancing. A powerful tool. It could be used for any number of things, acting as protection, defense, enchantment, and warning. Whoever looked upon it would know at once that its wearer was not to be trifled with. It could be used to channel energy or create a living shield that could withstand any magical assault, except, perhaps, a true dragon’s.

And to what purpose will you use this tool?
The dragon’s voice in her mind was unexpected but soft, unlike his earlier, painful trips into her thoughts.

I will give it to someone worthy of it,
she replied. Stardust tossed his head, as if he felt the dragon’s presence and didn’t like it. She patted his neck to soothe him.

The dragon was silent for a moment.
It has been a long while since anyone has trapped dragon essence in an object,
he mused.
Even the little you used could be turned against you by one like me.

You sound almost worried about me,
she said, smiling to herself.

I worry for myself,
he said and she got an image of his scowl.
If anyone harms you through it, I will have to intervene. Then everyone will know where to find me. I do not like this plan, not one bit.

Then I will simply have to be more cautious when choosing a keeper for it.

Give it to Saeran. He’ll wear it as well as anyone. And it will serve him well. Especially now.

Nia stilled at the odd comment.
What do you mean?
But she could already feel the dragon withdrawing. He would not answer her.

Sir Frederick rode up beside her. “My lady,” he said politely, nodding a bow. “Perhaps we should stop for the night. The shadows grow long and the men are tired.”

Though they rode slowly, they rode almost without cease. Nia couldn’t feel her legs anymore and knew that as soon as she dismounted, she’d crumple to the ground. She looked at the other knights, noting the shadows beneath their eyes and the set expressions that hid any weakness they might feel. They were strong men, and brave. Perhaps they ought to stop.

But the worry she’d begun to feel would not leave her. Something was very wrong if the dragon felt the need to warn her of it. They were still three days’ ride away from the nearest village, and from there two more to Frastmir. Did it matter?

Nia pulled Stardust to a halt. There was a small clearing sheltered by a rocky cliff. The wood was dry and the grass soft. This was a good place to rest for the night.

Sensing her weariness, Stardust took her all the way to the clearing, stopping by a tree so that she might use it to steady herself when she dismounted. “Thank you, my friend,” she told him.