Page 22

Where I get to Chat with Royalty

I t seems like an age since I slept in a bed, though actually, it’s only been a couple of days. Anyway, I’m unconscious the moment my head hits the pillow.

When I open my eyes again, daylight is streaming through the windows, and someone is banging on my door.

“Get up, or we’re leaving without you.” It’s Zayne, and I just grumble under my breath and roll over, burying my head in the pillow.

“I’m not joking,” he calls out.

“You can’t leave without me. I’m the reason we’re going.”

But I sigh and get out of bed. I stumble to the bathroom, use the toilet, splash some water on my face, then gulp some down. I slept in my panties and t-shirt; now I pull on the rest of my clothes. They’re stiff with dirt, and goodness knows what else.

I pull my hair into a quick ponytail, drag on my boots, and open the door. Zayne is still standing there, his fist in the air as if ready to bang again. He looks better than I feel.

“You look all nice and perky this morning,” I say.

“I feel better than I have in a while.”

“I’m glad.” I reach out and touch his chest. “I’m sorry I got you into all this.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

I follow him down the stairs and out into the courtyard. It’s busy this morning. There are crowds of people—mostly in the uniform of the guards, men and women. Our horses are saddled, ready, and waiting for us.

“What about breakfast?” I ask, unable to keep the whine out of my voice.

Zayne chuckles. “I think you missed that. We thought you’d rather have extra sleep than food.”

“Actually, I’d like both.” I catch sight of Thanouq and Therion standing side by side. They both have swords over their shoulders, knives at their waists, and are wearing long boots. They look like something out of a fantasy movie, in more ways than one.

My eyes are drawn—as they so often are—to another figure standing alone: Khaosti. He’s watching me. He does that a lot. Sometimes I think it’s because—against his better judgment—he likes me. Sometimes I’m sure it’s because he hates me. This morning there’s a scowl on his face, but hey, what’s new? He walks toward us and hands me a sandwich. “You slept through breakfast.”

Wow, maybe he does care. After all, actions speak louder than words, and he’s feeding me. In some cultures, that’s probably the equivalent of a marriage proposal. I take a bite. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t want you fainting off your horse halfway through the morning.” He also looks like he had a good night’s sleep.

“Okay, let’s go then,” I say around a mouthful of bread. Without waiting for an answer, I head toward Stella and stroke her soft nose. She nickers and gives me a good morning kiss.

“Did you sleep well?” Thanouq asks, coming up beside me.

“I did, thank you.” I give him a shy smile. He makes me feel a little… bashful.

“Right,” he says, “we may as well leave. There’s nothing else that can be done here.” He turns away and walks to a big bay stallion, mounting with ease. Therion follows suit, then Khaosti and Zayne. I look around at this place, which, after a shaky start, turned out to be the safest I’ve experienced in a long while. But it’s time to go. I put my foot in the stirrup, swing into the saddle, and heave a sigh. My ass still hurts, but not as much as it did yesterday. I’m getting tougher with each passing day.

We ride through the city in single file, Thanouq in the lead, then Therion—no doubt guarding his boss’s back—me, Zayne, and finally Khaosti bringing up the rear.

In the full daylight, you can see the devastation of the city clearer than ever. Some buildings are reduced to nothing but piles of debris. Others are still standing but look like empty shells of what were once, no doubt, beautiful homes.

I’m actually glad when we ride out under the main gate. We dismount to lead the horses down the mountain track, but we get back on as soon as we reach the bottom. Then we speed up, and my spirits rise as we leave the burnt and broken countryside behind, riding once again through green plains, though here and there, there are still signs of devastation—houses that have been destroyed, farms that lie derelict.

We don’t stop for lunch. Khaosti just hands out food from his saddlebags.

In fact, the first day passes without any incidents at all and very little conversation, just the occasional grunt from Khaosti when I ask him a question and he doesn’t deign to give me an answer. By evening, I give up. He’s obviously got a lot on his mind. I suspect Thanouq’s identity came as something of a surprise.

As the sun goes down, we eventually stop in a small copse of trees with a stream for the horses.

We don’t cook that night. I presume this is the shape of things to come, but I miss the comforting glow of a fire. I expect to lie awake, but strangely enough, I sleep. Surrounded by Thanouq, Therion, Khaosti, and Zayne, I feel safe, though I’m sure it’s an illusion.

The next day, we do the same thing all over again.

But the following afternoon, we ride through a forest of tall trees. Beneath the canopy, the land is dead. Nothing grows, and unease shivers through me. I’m glad when we come out into the sunshine once more. Therion is riding beside Thanouq, leaning in to talk. Thanouq does not look happy. He nudges his horse forward and comes to ride beside me.

“How are you faring?” he asks.

“Okay.” Actually, my ass hardly hurts at all today. But I don’t mention my ass to Thanouq; it doesn’t seem proper. Anyway, it’s late and the sun is low, so we’ll be stopping soon, and my ass can have a rest. “I’ll be glad when it’s over, you know, when we get to the Crone.” I think for a second. “Does she actually have a name other than the Crone?”

Thanouq smiles. “Yes, but it’s up to her to tell you if she desires.”

God, why does everyone have to be so cryptic?

We ride in silence for a few minutes, then he speaks again. “Do you think you will like the answers you get?”

That’s an interesting question. And one I don’t have an answer to. “Probably not. But it doesn’t matter. I need to know. I can’t go back home until I understand why those things came after me. Otherwise, they’ll just keep coming, and I won’t be safe. No one near me will be safe either. It’s not as though I have a choice. I’ve never had a choice.”

“None of us really have choices,” he says. “Or at least, it appears that way. In reality, we do. We can choose. But we have to face the consequences of those decisions.”

“Well, it would be nice if I knew what the consequences were. Right now, I know nothing. And I want to know.” But it’s more than that. “I need to know. There’s always been this little voice in my head, telling me that I can’t give up.” I give him a sideways look. “So, you’re royalty.”

He snorts. “A defunct royalty of a kingdom that no longer exists.”

All the same, royalty is royalty. “Do you have a crown?”

He snorts again. He’s obviously amused, so at least that’s something. “The crown was destroyed during the last battle before my ancestors fled the city. According to the stories, the king was wearing it at the time. Only the queen survived—she dressed as a serving woman and managed to escape. She lived long enough to bear the child she carried, and so our line continued. But everything of value was left behind, including the crown.”

“Maybe they’ll make you a new one,” I say.

“It is said that when Lucifer is defeated, a new crown will be forged, but I don’t believe in prophecies. I think it’s just as likely that our world will be completely destroyed in whatever battle is to come.”

“So you think there’s a battle coming?”

“I know it.” He waves a hand at the world around us. “This place, Valandria, was once known as the playground of the gods, but it became the gods’ battleground, and much of it was destroyed. And it’s not over yet. There’s been a lull. I don’t know why.” I feel his eyes on me. “I can’t help but think,” he continues, “that you’re part of this. That you bring change. I just cannot decide whether that change is for good or evil.” He frowns. “You’re human?”

He makes it sound unbelievable. “Of course I’m human. What else would I be?”

He chuckles at that. “There are lots of other things to be. Some good, some not so good.”

I remember that he’s some type of shifter, like Khaosti, but at the same time, different from Khaosti. Khaosti said he was born that way. But I’m guessing Thanouq was made, like Zayne was. He was bitten by one of those things, the shadowguard.

I’m just about to ask him about it, but Therion rides up beside us.

“We’re being followed.”