Read Curse of the Undead Dragon King (Skeleton Key) Online

Authors: Konstanz Silverbow,Skeleton Key

Curse of the Undead Dragon King (Skeleton Key)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2016, Konstanz Silverbow

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

 

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to a real person, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

 

Editing by Tristi Pinkston

www.tristipinkstonediting.blogspot.com

Book design by Inkstain Interior Book Designing

www.inkstainformatting.com

Cover art by J.M Rising Horse Creations

www.jennifermunswami.com

 

ISBN-13: 978-1533073723

ISBN-10: 1533073724

 

 

 

 

Always, thank you to God first and foremost.

Thank you to my family for the support in my writing adventures.

A huge thank you to my friends, who let me annoy them with questions, ramble on for hours about story ideas, and break down when I need to.

Special thanks to Cassie Chapman and Ali Winters. Without you two, this book never would’ve gotten finished.

Thank you to my beta readers, Rachel B, Marjorie-Ann L, Jan F, Mari M, and Amanda E.

Special thanks to Candy Smith, Dannell Peek McKinnon, Erica Claus-Numsali, Jennifer O’Kane, Mariah Herbert, Anne Murdoch, and Sheryl Policar for helping me choose character names!

Very special thanks to Scarlett Dawn for letting me be a part of the Skeleton Key Series, and Jennifer Munswami for creating the perfect cover.

As always, I could never do this without Tristi Pinkston, my amazing editor. Thank you!

And last, but certainly not least, thank YOU!

 

 

 

 

Only Half Alive

Missing Royal

The Enchanted Rose

Once Upon an Assassin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I STRETCH MY WINGS
as far as they will go before diving into the canyon, twisting around just in time to avoid hitting the mountain’s edge. My hearty laughter reverberates across the ravine as I soar through the small space and then straight up and over the mountain. I flip backwards long enough to see Father’s horror-stricken scaled face, the same one I see every time I make a daring move, or in his words, a dangerous one. 

Having been the one to teach me how to fly, the man who helped me through my first shift from human to dragon at the age of ten, one would think that after seventeen years, he’d be fully aware that I am capable of making these maneuvers with ease.

“Come, Aurelio!” Father’s deep voice can be heard over the wind pounding in my ears.

He soars right, gracefully descending upon the cliff’s edge surrounded by forests of blue. The leaves on the trees sprouting, flowers in full bloom, from teal to azure. The sun above us as midday approaches.

I land beside Father and look him up and down, taking in his dark-green scales, the way some are damaged from battles and others are beginning to look old and ragged. Some even look as if they are losing their proper color. As I stare, searching for what could cause the damage, I realize we’re the same size now. He no longer towers over me. I look into his silvery-gray eyes and notice how old they’ve begun to look, despite his young age for a dragon. But in the way he watches me, the slight tilt of his head, a small smile on his lips, and the glint in his eye, I begin to feel more his equal. A terrifying thought, really. How can I live up to those expectations? I look down over my bright blue-silver scales—not a scratch or dent on any of them, still shining, having never been through as much torment as Father has.

I look back up to see him lower to the ground and pull his wings in before closing his eyes and shifting into his human form. I quickly follow his lead, curious as to why we came to the highest point in the kingdom, the villages and the great white castle distant specks in the valley below.

He claps his hand on my shoulder and pulls me closer before leading me to a small nook on the mountain’s edge where he proceeds to sit and tugs me down with him, on one of the large slate boulders.

“Mighty dragons have ruled over this land, Aurelio. Great kings. They served their people, their kingdoms, and they made the world a brighter place.” For some reason, he is teary-eyed, though I couldn’t begin to guess why. “But do you know what they all had in common?” He turns his head, a single tear streaking down to his jaw before falling and disappearing.

“No.” I shake my head, confused as to why he’s become so emotional. Today was meant to be one of fun and joy, just father and son, leaving all duties behind us.

“Love. A caring wife, an equal queen, ruling beside them.” He catches the next tear that falls in one hand, the first raindrop in his other. “Which is why I want you to promise me you’ll propose to Zanta sooner rather than later.”

“Father, you know I want to more than anything. But do you think it’s wise to do so now? So young, and with so much ahead of us?”

“Aurelio, when you know a person is your other half, when you cannot imagine life without them, such as I have with your mother, it doesn’t matter what lies ahead because you can move forward together.”

“Mother died seven years ago today. Is that what this is about?” A pang in my heart sends a wave of sadness over me at the thought. Mother was kind and gentle. She treated everyone with respect. Never did she fret getting her hands dirty, but she was always graceful.

Thinking of proposing to Zanta and knowing Mother can’t be here for it brings on a whole new set of pain. As tradition would follow, Mother would be the one helping the love of my life on our wedding day.

Ignoring my question, Father speaks again. “Your mother and I came here often. This was one of her favorite places in the whole world.” Another tear springs up in the corner of his eye, and I can feel my own emotions begin to come loose.

I don’t know how to respond to that. We don’t speak of Mother often, aside from her doings as queen of Dracameveo. The people loved her with all their hearts. She taught peace over war. Words over fists. Losing her was a day of darkness, not only within the kingdom, but around the world.

“I can picture Mother standing on the edge, watching you worry that she might fall despite the fact that she could fly.” I try to laugh, not wanting to break down right now. I can’t think of the horrors she faced alone.

“She did indeed do that. She relished teasing me in any way she could. And we all know I enjoyed every minute of it.” His voice catches. “I loved her more than life itself, Aurelio. I miss her more than words could express.” Father wraps his arm around my shoulder. “Which is the other reason why I wanted to bring you here today.” He inhales deeply. I let him take all the time he needs.

“I miss her too, Father. But surely there is an afterlife and we will see her again, yes?” I move my arm, going to comfort him only to realize it would do very little. I imagine the only hug that could help this pain would be one from Mother, something I too long for. I let my arms fall back to my sides, feeling useless in Father’s moment of sadness. 

“I agree. Wholeheartedly. Which is why the news I must tell you is bittersweet.” His tears begin to fall just as the skies, moments ago a bright blue, now dark and gray, let loose their storm and rain showers us. “My time is up. I can feel my body, both dragon and human, giving out. It’s failing me. I’ve called for a meeting with my councilors. And I need you there with me.”

The pain I suppressed, the emotion I hid now come back like a wave washing over me. But still, I refuse to break down. I look to the sky and realize that soon it will only rain when I cry.

“Of course, Father. Of course I’ll be there with you.” I nod and wrap my arms around him. “I don’t want you to go.” I can’t let him leave. I’m not ready to be king, to rule the lands. I’m not ready to lose my father.

“But before that meeting takes place, you must promise me that you will propose to Zanta. We both know she is your mate. There will never be another for you, and I want to see you happy before I go.” He wraps his arm around my back and leans his head on my shoulder as he breaks down in tears.

I don’t know what to do. He’s always been so strong. He’s been the one I look to in moments of weakness. Seeing him collapse causes me more pain than words could ever describe. Like I’m being stabbed in the heart with lies, but I know that cannot be true. Father is stronger than anyone I’ve ever met before.

“Thank you for your blessing, Father. I will propose as soon as I can arrange such a special moment. I’m happy you approve, and though I am not ready to lose you too, I will find peace in knowing that you believe Zanta and I can rule this land in your stead.”

“Thank you, Aurelio. Thank you,” he whispers.

The king cries, the rain falls, and I hug my father sitting upon the rock which was my mother’s favorite spot until night is upon us. With the moon shining down as our only light, we descend from the cliffs, and side by side, soar back to Dracameveo.

The moment we’re on the ground just outside the castle gates, already back in our human forms, I wrap my arm around Father’s shoulder and we walk together. A sentry steps away from his post beside the wall, approaching us.

“My apologies, Your Majesty and Highness. I did not realize it was you. May I assist you?” he asks with a bow upon seeing our faces in the sconce lighting.

“All is well, Graff. Thank you, but it is unnecessary. Return to your post,” Father says kindly. It amazes me how he knows everyone by name. Mother was the same way. Always kind and caring, taking the time to befriend each person who entered the kingdom.

I hope that one day far away, I can rule like that.

 

 

IT MUST BE
the dead of night when I finally leave Father’s chambers, hoping he lasts through the night. With every passing moment, every step it took from the gate to his rooms, he grew weaker, collapsing into bed and falling fast asleep. Something that eludes me.

I meander down to the kitchens, trying to focus on something happier, such as making preparations for a proposal to Zanta despite the ache in my heart. But once I arrive in the warm, empty room, I sit down at the table in the corner, leaning my head against the wall. It seems so wrong to plan such a happy moment when Father is dying, and for no reason that can be seen. No answer as to why he must go now.

“Dear heavens, Prince! What are you doin’ in my kitchen this early in the morn?” Belen asks, startling me.

I sit up and look at the short, stout woman before me, her hair tugged back so tightly in a bun, it pulls at her rosy cheeks. “I, uh, I came to ask for your help. My apologies. I did not think of the hour.”

“Oh, it’s quite all right. ’Tis when I usually begin my day anyhow. You only scared me a bit, slumped over there in the corner looking glum. What has you hurting?” she asks, getting a pot and setting it on the counter beside the pile of vegetables sitting there.

I want to tell her just so I don’t have to be alone in this grief, at least not tonight. But Father told me in confidence, and he will make an announcement when he is ready. “It matters not tonight. Right now, I have happy news to share.” I smile, a genuine expression as I think about Zanta becoming my wife.

“Oh, do tell.” Belen laughs as she begins cutting the carrots and celery.

“I plan on proposing to Zanta, which is why I came to ask for your help.”

She drops the knife. It clatters against the floor as she squeals in delight. “I couldn’t be happier to help, dear Prince.” She’s beaming as she retrieves her fallen blade, setting it down before she throws her arms around me and squeezing me tight. “’Tis an honor!”

“Thank you. I already have some plans in mind.” I sit back down.

“Oh, indeed. When do you plan on surprising our lady?” Belen asks, returning to cutting the food.

Sitting in this kitchen, listening to Belen speak about Zanta as if she were her daughter, like we’re all family, brings another pang of heartbreak. Mother would love all this. Helping plan it, prepare for it, being there for Zanta. Oh, how I wish they could’ve known each other. I imagine they would have been the best of friends, and that only reminds me of Father’s predicament.

“Tomorrow. I need to do it tomorrow.” I nod, knowing I couldn’t wait any longer for fear that I wouldn’t be able to keep my promise to Father.

“Well then, we’d best get to work.”

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