Felling Kingdoms (Book 5) (9 page)

“We must give them something to hope for,” Penny said quietly.

“We can ask them to look through their books for information on Glittering. May be giving them a task bent on helping the Head Mage is the best distraction we can offer,” Dagan stated.

Lael agreed. “For now, I want the Head Mage’s privacy to be paramount. He has suffered a terrible blow and does not need sympathizers.” The Council nodded. “Very well, I need information on this Castrofax immediately. See to it. Dismissed.”

Chapter 13

Robyn watched Virgil furiously as he milled through her study, opening cabinets, rifling through books, and reading her documents. He finally poured himself a goblet of wine and lazily fell into a chair.

“Are you nearly finished?” he asked. His new power had emboldened him significantly.

“Running a kingdom is a job that never ceases, Virgil,” she replied. “I will not even be finished the day they lay me in the ground. Are you planning for that day?”

He looked hurt. “Of course not. I love you. I want to be with you always and grow old with you.”

“You mean to say you inherit nothing without me.”

“That is why I need to secure a few heirs through you.”

She felt her face grow cold. She had not thought about that. “You will not dare,” she hissed.

He leaned forward, his goblet perched between his fingers. “I am doing you the honor of respecting your customs and waiting until the marriage bed. But after that I expect you to bear my children.”

“I…” her lips trembled, something that was becoming a frequent reaction. “I do not
want
your children. I want
Gabriel’s
children.”

He extended a hand to the hinge. “He is a broken man, Robyn.”

“And you are any better? How many women have you taken to you bed?”

“No, I mean he is
broken
, not sullied.”

“What does that mean?”

He leaned back and said nothing, sipping his wine. “I want to be married by the end of the week.”

The pen in her hands clattered to the desk. “A wedding cannot be arranged in that time. You need at least a month.”

He looked at her tersely. “You could have it planned in one week. Be honest.”

“I need ten days.”

He shrugged. “I have waited this long.”

“Have you considered what will happen when you are revealed? This will not last a life time.”

“You will grow to love me.”

“You will never fully know, will you?”

“Give it ten, twenty years, and we will see. We will be a large, happy family by then.”

“The Head Mage will put an end to this. He knows me too well.”

He smirked. “Robyn, I already put an end to
him
.”

‘The Castrofax.’
Her face drained. She could not speak of it. She had to act normally. “Which one?”

“The one that paralyzes.”

“You….”

He looked up in expectance, watching her fume against her binds.

She could imagine Gabriel’s face, the horror he felt, the despair he must be in, and she could not go to him. She remembered the expression he held the night Nolen took him, the blank shock that wrenched her heart. If he could not rise, then he could not come to her, and unless the Jaden Mages figured out something was wrong, she would be trapped all the same as Virgil’s lover.

“I will destroy Arconia,” she finally whispered, tears in her eyes. “As you have destroyed my love, so shall I destroy yours.”

“Not with me as King of Anatoly,” he smiled.

Demi had watched from his window as the Secondhand took to the balcony. With his voice amplified by a Gaelsin beside him, he announced to the people the Head Mage had been put in a Castrofax.

Demi could hardly believe his luck.

It seemed he was the only happy person in the castle. He paced the halls for hours, perfectly planning his attack. He had to do it soon. The moon was on its last few nights before it darkened, and Demi was running out of time.

He waited until the ides of night when the castle quieted down. It was never fully quiet, not with thousands of people within its walls. He left his quarters, crossed the icy courtyard, and snuck into the Lodge. It was vacant this time of night. The Council spent much of that day answering questions and dithering in their Hall. It was likely they all went to bed early.

He crept through the halls and snuck into the Head Mage quarters, holding his breath for fear it would rasp loud enough to wake the Lodge. The doors were unlocked, the hearths cold, and the rooms vacant. He shook until he made it to the bedchamber. No one stood guard by the Head Mage’s bed.

The Head Mage laid on his back, his hands folded over his chest peacefully with a black cat curled on his legs. Demi crept up slowly and caught a faint glow from the hearth reflecting the Glittering Castrofax on the ceiling.

Demi put his hand on the Head Mage’s shoulder and shook. The man’s eyes flew open and frowned as if asking why Demi was in his room. “I am so sorry about this.”

He picked up the cat and set it aside, nearly losing a finger in the process. He lifted the Head Mage’s arms and threw back the covers. Blessedly, the man was fully dressed in white sleeping clothes.

Demi was strong. He had spent his whole life tending a farm, and lifting a man—even a man as large as the Head Mage—was not an issue. He threw the man over his shoulders, and stood straight. The Head Mage gave out the faintest of growls.

Demi walked along the walls, dragging the Head Mage’s hands along their rough surfaces. He paced the bedchamber without success and looped through the dressing room and the washroom. Nothing yet.

He passed into the study. If
he
were to put a secret doorway in a room, he would put it closest to him, so he could easily access it. He moved away from the desk surrounded by windows and passed the door in the wall he could not open. Sliding past a corner and a set of chairs with a table, the hands finally slipped free from the tension on the wall and vanished within.

His heart leapt.

Demi pushed himself through to find there was no wall at all. He crouched down and laid the Head Mage on the floor, hands within the vacant space. Strangely, it looked like his hands had been severed.

Demi tried to pass through alone without success, so he put one hand on the Head Mage and easily pushed himself through. The spiraling hallway was dark, so he rushed back to the bedchamber to grab an ember, lighting his path with a faint flame.

The loft was silent, the air still but not stale, and it was filled with the scents of books. Demi quickly took the stairs and found himself in a massive round room as large as the tower. He had expected the room to be cramped and disorganized like his father’s study, but this was far more than he could fathom.

He rushed to the first bookcase holding the light high as he scanned the room for any sign of a skull. There were dozens of boxes tucked in the shelves and corners, but none held a skull. There were hundreds of books, some behind glass, while flags and standards hung from the ceiling and down the wall flanked by old weapons, glinting trinkets, and paintings.

He paced the room quickly, and finally his flame flashed against a glass case. It casted an indistinguishable glare over the front and did not fade until he was nearly on top of it. A skull rested inside, and his heart beat in his ears. The marker on the case said Dorian Lark, so he lifted the glass off and wrapped the skull up.

He stashed it into a bag and thundered back down the stairs. The Head Mage had not moved, though he looked as mad as Demi expected, and he carried him back to the bed. He pulled back the covers and adjusted the Head Mage to lay as he had before, even pulling the angry cat back.

“I’m sorry, but Ryker will kill my mother.” Demi whispered.

The Head Mage only frowned.

“It won’t matter. You can’t fight them now so wha’ is another?”

The blue eyes bored into Demi.

Demi extinguished the fire and quickly left the room. His thundering heart calmed as he walked through the hall and out into the Lodge. He immediately summoned Ryker with the ring around his finger and raced down the stairs. He made it to the second landing when a female voice suddenly rang through the open halls.

“Halt!”

He paused and looked up to see the beautiful Arconian Mage in a sleeping gown leaning over the hall balcony.

Demi broke out into a full run, making for the Lodge side door that led to the castle wall. He hit the heavy door hard but dismissed the pain as he rushed out into the night.

It occurred to him how late it was when he was halfway there. At this hour there were not enough Mages posted on the gates to open them. He mentally berated himself and looked for another way out. Noise from behind made him run faster. There was
one
way out sure to work.

“Stop!” a man’s voice yelled as Demi jumped onto the crenellations of the wall and looked over the edge.

“Jump,” a voice called to him, and he saw a dark figure walking beneath the wall.

Demi jumped.

The air raged around him, tearing at his clothes as the ground rushed up.

He hit the ground hard.

The rush of pain and the cracking of bone threw him into a state of shock. He lied on his back gasping, replaying the jump trying to rewrite the outcome. Ryker stood over him in a long black coat and hands in his pockets. He had not even tried to stop Demi’s fall.

“Y’ have the skull?” he asked. Demi gasped a reply, but Ryker only frowned as he unwound the bag from Demi’s hands. Demi shook in pain as Ryker opened it and smiled. “Well done, lad.”

“Heal me,” Demi whispered, his voice choked with agony.

“Sorry lad, that was ne our deal.”

“Then let my mother go.”

Ryker gave him a sympathetic look. “I can ne let her go, she knows too much. Y’ should have realized that long ago.”

Demi shook, his mind awash with pain and anger.

The Arch Mage did not look remorseful.

Voices sounded from the wall, and Ryker looked up pensively as someone leaned over the merlons. “Farewell, lad.” Ryker said quietly and snapped his fingers. Pain shot through Demi’s head, and his eyes widened as he met the Arch Mage’s. All faded to blackness, and he saw no more.

Shaun felt the contours in the air as the gates closed and saw the faces of the men carrying the broken body of the boy over their shoulders. If they knew the true reason for the boy’s jump, their faces did not show it.

“What will you tell t’ people?” he quietly asked Mikelle.

“That he fell. The truth is far worse.”

“What was he doin’ in Gabriel’s rooms?”

“I don’t know, I only checked to make sure he was alive, and he gave me a look that said to run.” She straightened to address the bearers. “Take his body to be dressed in the necropolis.”

Shaun followed her as she turned back to the Lodge, wearing a sleeping gown and robe. Shaun had jumped out of bed when he heard her shout. He wore sleeping trousers and a long shirt, but he warmed and quieted the air around them to keep the chill away.

A few people stood in the open halls in the Lodge waiting for an explanation. Mikelle did not give any, simply ordering people back to their rooms. She went straight to Gabriel’s room and found Lael sitting beside the Head Mage. He was counting through the alphabet and writing notes in an open book.

“Something was taken,” Lael explained. “He says it was Dorian’s skull.”

“The Arch Mage?” Mikelle asked. “Why?”

Lael put his pen down and rubbed his eyes. “It has been Ryker’s plan from the beginning to raise his Arch Mages, first by obtaining the Silex. In order to bring a body back to life, you need the bones as an armature to lay out the muscle and skin. You need
all
the bones.”

Gabriel closed his eyes with a deep exhale, but a sudden realization snapped them back open to Mikelle. She and Lael slowly translated. “Dorian is buried here. Check the grave.”

Shaun wasted no time and jumped silently out the window, rushing atop pillars of air to the dark mountain. The necropolis milled with silent watchers drawn by the new death, and requesting information on the location of Dorian’s grave was simple.

Shaun returned ten minutes later and shook his head with thin lips. “T’ coffin was empty.”

Lael’s head fell into his hand with a defeated exhale.

“So Ryker has all t’ Arch Mages…and….” Lael looked up at Shaun, “And you are our most powerful fighter.”

Shaun ran a hand over his hair with a huff. It flopped back in front of his eyes.

“Gabriel says no,” Mikelle stated. “We can’t put this on his shoulders.”

“I’ll do it,” Shaun cut in. “T’is is my home now. Gabriel saved me, and I will do t’ same for him.”

Gabriel’s eyes smiled sympathetically, and Mikelle looped her hands around Shaun’s arm, pulling him close.

“I have somet’in’ to protect.”

Lael’s head moved back and forth between them. “You two?”

“Mate, I’m t’ blind one.”

“Gabriel,” Mikelle whispered as they reached a lull, “The boy…Dimitri…he was killed. He jumped off the wall, and it appears his neck was broken.”

“It was broken after t’ man outside took t’ skull.”