Lichgates: Book One of the Grimoire Saga (an Epic Fantasy Adventure) (14 page)

Everyone was dressed in brilliant greens, beiges, and browns. Some men wore simple pants and tunics, their sleeves rolled up to reveal thick arms, while most ladies in the crowds wore long gowns that grazed the spotless cobblestone. A few of these women even wore thin gold tiaras that glittered in the radiating afternoon light, and they walked in pairs with their chins held high as they chatted. More than one of these clusters giggled as Braeden strode by.

One young woman wiped away invisible dust from her gown and smiled to him, brushing her honey-colored hair over her shoulder to reveal a slender neck. He, however, ignored her completely and continued down the road. The girl scowled after Kara, fanning her face as she turned and hustled away.

“She was flirting with you, Braeden. Did you miss that?”

“That wasn’t flirting,” he said.

“You’re oblivious.”

“No, just cautious. I try to avoid involvement.”

She forced a humorless smile and glanced down at the stones in the road, pausing long enough in the shock of what she saw that he walked a good distance ahead.

The stones were changing shape.

They shifted and molded around each other, congealing to match the contours of the feet that walked over them. One of the stones even took on the shape of her face while she stared at it. It stuck out its tongue, the small heap of rock gliding out with the grate of stone scraping brick, and the stony face blew an inaudible raspberry. She laughed.

“Hillside is quirky,” Braeden said, suddenly at her side once more. “It’s good to see you smile after everything you’ve been through.”

“I can’t even think about anything bad right now. I needed this.”

“Sorry to mention this, then, but I need to ask something of you,” he said, lowering his voice so that it came out as a barely audible hiss. “You can’t tell anyone that I was with you in the Stele.”

“Then how did we meet?”

“The muses needed a guide to bring you here, so they found me while I was on my way back from my isen hunt. Tell them that. Drenowith are legendary here and no one knows just what they are capable of doing. The queen will believe it.”

“Okay.”

Several of the shops had tables set up on the roadside. Trays lined these tables, each filled with something different. Some had jewels that glittered as she passed, while others brimmed with fish or vegetables. Vendors laughed and chatted with their patrons, exchanging thin gold coins for their wares.

Any human alive would have been lost in the Hillside crowd. Hillsidians with every skin tone passed by, and blondes walked hand-in-hand with brunettes. Everyone looked different and no one seemed to care.

“Here we are,” Braeden said.

He stopped at a shop with a particularly gnarled trunk and rifled through the small tables outside. She laughed when she realized that he had found a few trays of gloves.

The shopkeeper trotted out to them and welcomed them with a broad smile. His face was as wrinkled as his shop, and the silver hair that dangled around his ears framed his brown eyes. When Braeden insisted that they didn’t need help, he flitted away to another customer.

The prince rummaged through several boxes before he handed Kara a pair for approval. A thin woven braid along the edges of each finger accented the dark brown leather gloves. Small pieces of opal had been sewn into each cuff.

“Do you like those?” he asked.

“They’re beautiful, but are you seriously that afraid of me touching people?”

He grinned. “Yes.”

A breathless young boy ran up to them from the crowd. He bent over his knees, huffing. “Master Braeden, the Queen would like to start the meeting early.”

“Thank you.” Braeden slid a coin in the boy’s hand. “And that’s because I know you’ve forgotten to get your mother’s birthday present, Thomas.”

Thomas blushed and bowed. “Thank you, Master Braeden. I did.”

Braeden ruffled the boy’s hair and ducked into the shop to pay the merchant, leaving Kara to pull on her new gloves. She tested them by wiggling her fingers as Thomas bowed again and rushed back into the crowded street.

“Are you ready?” Braeden asked when he returned.

“I have no idea.”

“You’ll be fine.”

They walked back to the castle, which loomed overhead, and it became rapidly evident that they hadn’t walked as far as she’d initially imagined. After just a few minutes, they stood at the main doors of the castle’s second tree, which opened out onto the stone courtyard. These doors were propped open, and a dozen soldiers lined the edges of the stairs which led to them. Each guard stared straight ahead, unmoving.

Braeden jogged up the steps two at a time while Kara hurried to keep pace, following him through the entryway and toward a second set of broad doors that were easily twice her height.

He leaned on one of the doors, which creaked open beneath his weight to reveal a massive throne room. Two dozen white marble pillars supported the ceiling above, which was lined with thick windows that let in the summer light. Sheer green tapestries hung from the space between each pillar and rippled as the door opened. The walls and floors were covered with the same white marble as the pillars.

At the far end of the room was a raised platform shaped like a crescent moon, and on it sat three marble thrones, two of which were draped in more of the sheer, emerald green fabric that hung between the pillars. The largest chair was centered against the wall, while the two smaller thrones had been set on either side of it in a layout that reminded Kara of Carden’s throne room.

A woman wearing a gold gown stood beside the middle seat, her auburn hair pulled into a bun. A shimmering golden crown inset with emeralds adorned her head.

“Oh.” Braeden stopped at the door and didn’t enter.

“What?”

“It seems like the Queen wants to speak with you beforehand,” he said, nodding toward the woman as he nudged Kara through the door.

Kara’s stomach twisted into a knot. “I have to go in there alone?”

“You’ll be fine,” he repeated. “So you know, her name is Lorraine, but you need to address her either as the Queen or the Blood. Nothing else.”

“Why?”

A shadow passed over his face and he grimaced, his eyes trailing out of focus. He shook his head. “Just trust me.”

“You’re not exactly instilling me with confidence, here.”

“Don’t keep her waiting.”

He patted Kara’s shoulder and disappeared back into the hallway, letting the giant doors swing closed behind him. She turned back to the woman standing at the other end of the huge room and tried to smile, but the corners of her mouth twitched and she couldn’t hold it. She coughed through the nerves in her stomach and began the considerable walk to the thrones.

The Queen nodded in welcome and cradled her hands in front of her with a delicate twist in her slender wrists. Her gown’s tall collar framed her thin face. Kara suppressed the urge to simultaneously curtsey and bow, and luckily found herself speechless instead.

“Welcome, Miss Catherine Magari,” the Blood said. Her voice echoed and danced along the walls.

Kara’s eyebrow twitched at hearing her full name, but she swallowed the urge to correct it. “Thanks. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I pray that your time in Ourea has not been altogether horrible.”

“It’s been...interesting.”

The Queen tightened her grasp on her own fingers as she looked Kara over and sighed. Kara’s gut twisted. She’d already disappointed the Queen and she’d barely said anything yet.

“Before I introduce you to my generals, Vagabond, I must prepare you for what is to come. For now, I trust who you are based on Braeden’s word alone, but you must prove yourself when we are in the war room. Are you prepared to do so? They will need to see the Grimoire as proof.”

“I can do that.” Kara nodded. Sweat licked her palms and neck.

The Queen eyed Kara’s empty hands as if expecting something more, but continued when nothing else was said.

“Come, then.”

The Blood retreated to the wall behind her thrones and rapped her knuckles on the stone. A hidden door opened to reveal a torch-lit hallway, but she turned and waited instead of immediately walking through.

Kara shuffled up the steps and passed the thrones, running her fingers against the cool silk fabric that lined the central chair. The touch sent a sharp chill through her bones and into her heart.

She stifled a yelp and cradled her hand. Ice crystals clung to the skin that had touched the fabric, stinging her with their cold fire. The Queen watched her, one eyebrow furrowed in barely contained annoyance. The regal woman stood with her arms behind her back and her chin raised, piercing Kara with cold eyes.

“The Drapes of Hillside are one of our many defenses. Should anyone without the Hillsidian bloodline touch the fabric for very long, they will turn to ice. If I recall the legends correctly, the Vagabond himself dealt with them. I should have hoped that he would write to warn his own Heir to avoid them.”

Kara decided against saying anything and instead locked eyes with the Queen. She did not break eye contact until the Blood turned and led the way down the dark and endless hall.

“You must be wary of the world around you, Vagabond,” the Queen added over her shoulder.

Kara shook her head and followed, cradling her hand as she crossed into the hidden passageway. Once she was through, the door hummed and swung closed. She took a deep breath and continued behind the woman in the trailing gown.

The Blood made a dozen turns, passing doors and hallways and dozens of identical sconces. She maneuvered the halls with practiced mastery, stopping in front of a closed door after Kara was certain she would never find her way out again without a guide.

The Queen rested her hand on the knob, but paused and tilted her head just enough to look at Kara over her shoulder.

“My kingdom is built upon fearlessness, Vagabond. We value strength and cunning above all else. Still, I know the tides are changing. Our ways aren’t long for this world, and I often fear that we will destroy ourselves. Millions will look to you to fill the growing gaps in our armor, but I just can’t imagine how you were chosen for this. You are a child, not a warrior.”

Kara’s cheeks burned.
You’re welcome.
She wanted to scream. She furrowed her eyebrows and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could respond, the Queen shook her head. Her once-steely eyes trembled, and she clutched the handle for support.

“I desperately hope you prove me wrong,” she said.

The Blood twisted the knob and a flood of daylight broke into the dark hall. The woman dissolved into the room, leaving Kara standing just beyond the hazy midday rays even as she heard her name from within.

The Queen could be right. This could all be a mistake. Kara didn’t know what she was doing. She was twenty. She’d found this war-torn pocket of the earth yesterday. It didn’t make sense for her to care about its problems. If Ourea didn’t want her, she had no reason to try to save it. She hadn’t chosen this.

The clover pendant hummed, warming the skin on her neck, and the little blue stone glimmered up at her. According to the Grimoire, she did choose this. She had, after all, pulled the clover from the book. It wouldn’t have opened for her unless it believed that she was strong enough.

She sighed. If this world didn’t want her, she would try to save it anyway: for her dad, for her mom, and because being the Vagabond was all she had left. Maybe she still had a purpose, even if it didn’t involve the only world she’d thought was real. She rolled up her sleeves and walked into the room, her back arched so much that it ached.

Two of the room’s walls were made of solid windows, which shed blinding light onto a long wooden table in the room’s center. The Queen sat at the head of the table, while men filled the rest of the seats. Some turned to each other and murmured. Others strained to look behind her, certain that she wasn’t the end of the convoy. Braeden managed a thin smile from his place near the Queen and gave her the smallest of waves.

The Queen took a deep breath. “Miss Catherine, these are my generals and advisors. This is my husband, Richard, and my son, Gavin. You have, of course, already met my son Braeden.”

She gestured as she spoke, pointing first to Richard, who sat to her left and looked to be about fifty. His tunic betrayed a muscled build, and he wore a thick golden crown on his neatly-trimmed brown hair. He nodded to Kara and smiled broadly in welcome.

The Queen had then gestured to Gavin, a young man on her right who watched Kara from the seat next to Braeden. Gavin peered over his hand, which he had placed over his mouth at the introduction. He was built like his father, but blond, and she couldn’t read his expression.

“My friends, this is the Vagabond,” the Queen announced.

The room hushed. Leaves scraped across the glass as the wind rustled through the world outside. A chair creaked, but otherwise, everyone was still.

CHAPTER TEN

COUNCIL

Braeden gauged the room’s reaction as the Queen revealed that Kara was the Vagabond. She stood by the entry as the door swung closed behind her, her eyes scanning the reserved faces at the table. Most of the yakona frowned. They seemed to be waiting for the Queen to laugh, as if Kara was an uninteresting joke.