Agroup of guards marched out from one of the large arena doors with spears in hand. Their leader was the male with salt-and-pepper hair they’d first encountered outside the castle a few days ago. Layala stiffened, itching to reach for her sword, and tamped down her bubbling magic. She doubted they came looking for a fight after the display of honor she had just witnessed but it was hard to pack down that instinct to always be ready.
The lead guard placed his palm flat over his stomach dipped from the waist then stood erect. “Congratulations on successfully earning the scepter, son and daughter of Runevale. You have proven to us you are descended from the old gods. Please, come with us to a secure area.”
Layala’s black gown glittered from shoulder to feet, hugging every curve of her body like a glove. The high neck covered her cleavage but the sleeveless nature of it allowed the cool breeze in. The scepter now hung on a chain around her neck, shrunk to about an inch long, even smaller than when Prince Yoren wore it.
The rakes across her forearm from the wyvern attack itched, almost like they scabbed now. She hadn’t removed the bandage to see but she had a feeling her body healed more rapidly than it ever had before, like her mate. As if the more she used her magic the stronger she grew and the more the traits of the gods showed in her.
The dewy glass in Layala’s hand tinked with ice as she brought the lip of the cold white wine to her lips and stared out at the gathering. She didn’t want to be here among the richly-dressed onlookers who watched her with a newfound curiosity. The whispers behind hands and lips close to ears said some believed she and Thane were sent from the gods. Others were more skeptical and questioned their place here. They were strangers after all, who came in and defeated their prized prince in front of the entire dragon kingdom. Not everyone believed the legends long foretold. Some, she gathered, didn’t believe in other realms at all. They were just fables from an earlier age.
There would only be one way to find out and that was using the scepter and stone in the security of the temple. The temple built to the old gods was close by, or at least that was what the king and queen relayed to them earlier. Anxiety coursed through her, anticipation for what might happen when they did put the two magical items together and she was stuck tapping her toes at this social gathering, forcing a smile at people she cared nothing for. It was a waste of time. Meanwhile Varlett must be lurking in the shadows somewhere set on ruining their plans. What hand did she have to play? She wouldn’t show herself without one. That wicked gleam in her eye before the match reeked of aspirations.
Thane stayed close to her side. His suit sleeve brushed against her skin at all times. He spoke with Leif, Siegfried, and Prince Ronan as if this were any old event back at his own castle. Prince Yoren sat on his throne next to his parents. He smiled at her occasionally, and she was thankful there were no harsh feelings between them.
Talk of the food and wine and important guests arriving carried on. She glanced around wondering where Piper and Fennan were. She hadn’t seen them since they stepped away several minutes before. She spotted them in the corner not far away, and the tension on Piper’s face was enough for her to tune everyone else out and strain to hear them.
“You’re seriously going to be angry with me?” Piper snapped. “For what? You’ve barely spoken to me since we arrived here.”
Fennan’s leaned his back against the wall. “I thought you were too preoccupied with Prince Ronan to even notice.”
Piper rolled her eyes. “And so what if I am? What if I appreciate that he actually shows me he likes me.”
“He only sees you as something to conquer, Piper.”
“You don’t know that.”
Fennan lifted his shoulder. “Fine, don’t believe me.”
“You’re such an ass.” Her hands curled into fists at her sides. “You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me either. You say you loved me since you were seventeen, but you slept your way through a quarter of the court. And I get it. You’re charming, handsome, and a high-ranking Raven. You can have anyone you want. So I thought I could just wait until you had your fun. I thought I’d wait until you finally noticed me for something other than your sparring partner. But then I realized that if you loved me, you would have shown me. I’m done waiting for you, Fennan.”
He stiffened and stood taller. “Piper…” When he didn’t go on, she shook her head and started to walk away.
He grabbed hold of her arm, his red-brown eyes pleaded with her to stay. Layala wanted to jump in and side with Piper. Everything she said was spot on. How could he be in love with Piper for so long and yet ignore her for others? But Layala stayed at Thane’s side, pretending like she wasn’t eavesdropping.
“I realized I loved you in that cell. I’m sorry I didn’t see it before. I said I loved you since I was seventeen because when I thought back on it, I have. I have loved you that long. I was just too stupid to see it sooner.”
She tugged out of his grasp. “The others are watching us. Ronan is watching us.”
“I don’t care,” Fennan said.
“Well, I do.”
“You’re going to choose him over me? You’ve known him for a week.”
“I don’t know what I want so right now, I’m choosing me.” Piper stepped away from him and started back toward their group. Layala found staring into her glass prudent and scratched the back of her arm.
Thane leaned down. “Don’t say anything.”
Layala chuckled. “I won’t.”
Ronan looked like he was about to make a comment, so Layala blurted out, “Do you know Varlett? The dragon shifter who worked closely with the Black Mage.”
Thane’s eyes flashed wide, a silent tell that he didn’t want her to say more. Prince Ronan ran his fingers through his long silvery hair. “I do. She isn’t allowed here. She earned her banishment a few centuries ago. Why do you ask?”
Not allowed? Should she alert him and the guards that Varlett was here then? At that very moment, the golden-haired dragon shifter stepped out from behind a large pillar. She raised the glass of wine in her hand practically begging Layala to start a brawl. Layala was no longer just a young elf mage afraid to use her magic. She was a descendant of gods and a powerful mage. “Excuse me for a moment,” Layala said, and stepped away.
She slipped around groups of chattering people in extravagant gowns and suits. The light string music picked up pace to something easy to dance to. If she wasn’t so focused, she’d find herself swaying to the tune, lost in the wistful melody.
“Congratulations,” a pair said as she passed by.
A male tipped his glass toward her. “I’m in awe of your power, elf. Truly magnificent. Goddess blood among us once again.”
Layala gave a brief smile but kept her gaze pinned on Varlett until she disappeared into the shadows. She wouldn’t be stupid and go anywhere alone with her but in the public eye where Varlett was forbidden, was the best place to confront her. Layala set her glass on an empty table and with a dagger in hand and her magic thrumming through her like its own heartbeat, she stood opposite of the bitch who nearly gutted the love of her life.
Varlett’s smile made Layala’s skin itch. “You think because you won one match against a dragon, you’re big and bad now?” Varlett cooed and then sipped her wine.
“What are you doing here?” Layala snapped. Her hand twitched to plunge the blade straight into her chest. She had no dragon scales to protect her at the moment, but rash decisions only brought trouble. Varlett obviously had something.
“Stopping you from making a huge mistake.” Her heels tapped as she strode forward. “If you put that scepter and stone together, you won’t survive and if you do, you’ll be changed, cursed just like Zaurahel.”
Layala’s stomach dropped, but she played it off. That’s what she and Thane discussed at length, whether or not it was worth the risk. “You’re just desperate now because I’m close to finding out how to end your pathetic dead lover’s curse for good.”
Pushing her hair over her shoulder, Varlett cackled. “You are so naive.” She curled her black-taloned fingers around her glass, tapping them rhythmically. “That’s never going to happen. Not even a line to the gods could give you the power to do that. You’re not strong enough and neither is your prince. How’s that wound of his anyway? Bet it left a nasty scar. I’m surprised the bastard survived.” Her golden eyes looked brighter than usual against her brown skin. Her gaze flicked to where Thane stood, watching them, but he hadn’t moved. “I hope he has a limp cock too.”
The hairs on the back of Layala’s neck raised and an angry heat flooded her body. “I think you’re scared.” Layala arched an eyebrow. “And you’ll say anything to deter us. But your words have no power over me, and you have no authority here.” Layala turned and took a few steps away.
“I found your aunt or whatever you call her. I still can’t believe your parents chose her, a simple human of all people to raise you.”
The music and hundreds of voices muted as if she stuffed cotton into her ears, and the drum of her heart grew loud. Layala froze.
“That bitch is tough for an old thing. She thought she could squirt slumber berry juice in my eye, and it would work on me.”
Layala whirled around, driving the point of the dagger at Varlett’s chest. She pressed it against her skin but not enough to do any damage. “Where is she?”
“Come with me and I’ll give her back to you. We’ll make a bargain. You give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you want.”
Her chest heaved up and down with heavy breath, but she pulled back. For all Layala knew Varlett was lying, and she wasn’t going to play this game. But the slumber berries comment rang true. With a thumping heart, she turned away for the second time and tucked the dagger back into her calf sheath. Don’t turn around no matter what she says.
“She screamed and cried when I killed that stupid boy. He tried to defend her.” She clicked her tongue. “Ren, I think his name was. Such a shame too. He had the most innocent brown eyes.”
Layala’s legs suddenly went weak, and her steps faltered. The wind wrenched from her lungs like a gut punch. Ren—Ren was dead? How else would she know he had brown eyes unless she saw him? Her chin trembled and hot tears burned. She couldn’t turn around, wouldn’t allow Varlett to witness the anguish warring inside. If what she said was true… Maker above, not only had Novak died but Ren too? All because of her. A sob caught in her throat, but she blinked back the tears and drew in a cleansing breath. This wouldn’t crumble her. She wasn’t that girl they kept starved and weak in the tower anymore. She wouldn’t allow words or even lies to tear her apart in the middle of this party where so many watched her. She only slightly turned her head to say, “I’ll soon see you on the battlefield.” She couldn’t risk fighting her here and now or even alerting the guards if she held Aunt Evalyn captive.
Thane met her stare from across the dancing couples in the center and moved toward her. He pushed through them with no care for manners. He meant to charge around her to go after Varlett, still leaning against the wall with an arrogant smirk, but Layala grabbed his arm so hard her hand ached. “We need to use the stone and scepter now.”
The massive, heavy doors to the temple creaked open. A pair of guards who stood at the top of the light-gray stone steps, nodded as Thane, Layala, the four Ravens, and Prince Ronan stepped inside. To avoid drawing a crowd, they snuck out a side door and along a well-manicured path through lush gardens with gazebos and water fountains. Layala glanced back, paranoid that Varlett followed them. But of course, she would. She didn’t want them to find a way to end the Black Mage. But she wouldn’t risk attacking, would she? Three dragon shifters, two demi-gods, and four Ravens vicious and deadly in their own right, would be a lot to handle for anyone no matter if she delved into the dark magics.
The hall they walked into stood at least a hundred feet high. “This is the most warded place in Adalon. We’ve prepared for this day, in case things should go awry,” Ronan said. “So, if another Void is created it will be contained inside these walls. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.”
Their footsteps echoed in the vast chamber above. Along the wall, twenty-foot statues made of gray marble stood. Five on each wall. All the females were to the left, the males to the right. Each adorned with details that Layala assumed had something to do with their characteristics. One female held an open book in her palms, another with serpents climbing up her arms, their heads blossomed into blooms on her shoulders, and she wore a crown of moon and stars. The center female carried a bow with an arrow knocked back, pointing up toward the sky. Maybe a goddess of battle or hunt? The final two stood back-to-back with a line of flowers between their feet and a sun behind their heads, their faces identical. Birds and other small creatures climbed on the left twin and the right had a tree growing out of her palm. Could Layala be descended from one of them?
“There are more,” Prince Ronan said. “These are just the ones our people had contact with or so the stories say. In Runevale there are many gods and goddesses.”
Layala turned her attention to the males, the first with an ax raised, ready for battle. The second held a ball of flame that hovered over his palm, real fire. Was it spelled to burn all the time? The third sat with a harp in his hands and a flute tied around his neck that hung at his chest. She wondered about the stories the dragons must have. The second from the end held a trident in hand and stone waves crested around his legs. And the last carried an hourglass frozen with the sands of time in the top end.
The walls were covered in murals of warriors riding chariots pulled by winged horses, dragons soared among the clouds with riders on their backs. Small windows let in the evening sunlight, staining everything with a golden glow. It was truly beautiful here, divine as it should be.
Ronan stopped at the end of the room and placed his hands behind his back. “And here, before the All Mother and the Maker you shall put the stone and scepter together, and hope you are found worthy.” Behind Ronan at the front and center of the temple, a male and a female sat on two massive thrones. They wore crowns. He held a hooked staff, and she, a balancing scale equally weighted.
Layala lightly bit down on her lower lip. What if she and Thane were simply powerful mages and not worthy? Would they die? Would they be burned to ash for their impudence? It was hard to know the truth from a lie when the elves portrayed Rhegar as the hero who died to save everyone from the Black Mage while the dragons claimed he worked with him.
Thane pulled the stone from within his suit pocket and held it in his open palm. He inspected it for a moment, as if he hadn’t memorized every nick and rough edge. Perhaps he was just as nervous as she about the whole thing. But if they ever wanted to rid the world of the Black Mage, this was the only choice.
Taking hold of the golden chain around her neck, Layala slipped the scepter over her head. She plopped it into her hand, and it grew to fit the width of her palm, and about twelve inches in length. Did it suddenly get hotter? Layala fanned her face and smiled nervously at Thane.
He pinned her with a concerned stare. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes,” she answered despite the uncertainty swimming through her. She felt like a fish circling bait that didn’t know it was about to get ensnared. She turned to the others who watched them with obvious anxiety. “Maybe you all should wait outside in case—something bad happens.”
Piper shook her head. “No. If anything happens, I’m going down with you.”
Ronan gave a single nod. “We’re not leaving.”
Fennan, Leif and Siegfried all agreed. “We’re with you,” Fennan said.
“No matter what,” Leif added.
Well, so be it. Thane raised the stone. Layala tipped the end of the scepter toward him. They locked eyes—what if this was the last moment they had together? What if this was the end? “It’s alright,” Thane breathed. “I’ll always find you.” He grasped under her hand. One beat. The stone was inches away. Two, it touched the metal. Three, it settled into place. For half a breath, nothing happened, then a golden light burst from the stone, a beam straight up into the rafters above scattering small birds. The scepter shook, almost as if it fought to break free. She gripped it with her other hand and Thane did the same.
“Keep holding tight,” Thane breathed. “Don’t let go.”
The sensation vibrated up her arms, growing more uncomfortable with each passing moment. Then it just stopped. The golden light showered down shimmering like snowflakes, until a whirl of wind brought the glitter together into the form of a… female. The golden gleam outlined her shape but most of her body was transparent other than her long hair that floated on air like she was suspended in water.
“Who has summoned me?” she asked. Her light voice lilted around the chamber as soft and beautiful as a harp.
Thane and Layala exchanged a glance. If it worked, she expected a voice or something like the portals, but this was a person. If it didn’t, she thought she’d be dead. She glanced about the temple to make sure everything was still in place and that all her friends were alive. They stood mouth open staring with the golden light reflected in their eyes.
“We have,” Thane answered.
Her doe eyes lined with long glittering lashes blinked a few times. “And why have you summoned me?”
“We need answers,” Layala said. “Are you able to give them?”
“I am the goddess of knowledge. I can give answers as I please as long as it doesn’t disrupt the balance in Adalon.”
A direct line to the gods… so it was true. It was all real. Layala swallowed hard, nervous to know the answer but there was one thing she must know before anything else. “Where is Evalyn, the woman who raised me?”
“She is being held prisoner by the elf king, Tenebris, near the city of Doonafell.”
Shit. Varlett didn’t lie. Layala chewed on her lower lip, deciding if she could handle the truth of Ren being dead if she asked.
Thane spoke up, “Why was a Void created the last time this scepter and stone were used and not now?”
The golden female smiled. “Zaurahel Everhath was given what he deserved.”
“It is said that Layala can destroy the curse on our land, including the Void and the Black Mage—how?”
She smiled and little golden butterflies fluttered off her hand. “In part that is true. For the curse on your land and your people to be destroyed, you must bring the one you call the Black Mage out of the endless sleep. You must bring him back into reality, and she can do that.”
“Bring him back?” Thane balked. “No, that can’t be the answer. He can’t be allowed back.”
Was this a trick? And the endless sleep? Everyone assumed he was dead and gone with something holding him to the land, but he was here and—asleep? Layala’s mouth hung slightly ajar. To destroy him, she must bring him back? That made no sense whatsoever. “Why me?” she blurted out before the goddess could answer Thane.
The question she wanted to selfishly know more than anything else.
Her wide doe-like eyes shifted to Layala. “You can bring back the Black Mage because of the blood connection you share.” She turned to Thane. “And in order for the curse to be broken, he must live once again. The key is his heart.”
So Thane had been right. She was a descendant of the Black Mage, Maker, it made her sick to think she could be related to someone so cruel and hideous. “To kill him, right? In physical form. Stab him in the heart.”
The goddess looked away as if wondering what she may or may not say. “That would end him, yes. In his slumber state it’s impossible, and in his waking state, for a mortal, that would be nearly impossible.”
That’s all she needed to know. She could pierce his heart, mortal or not. It was nearly impossible, not impossible.
Thane shifted slightly. “But she and I share the blood of the gods, and are you saying he’s not mortal?”
“Neither of you has embraced who you truly are. Much of your power lies dormant. And if he was immortal, a blade to the heart wouldn’t kill him, but he’s powerful and has grown even more so in his slumber.”
Layala hid and fought what she was for years, only using her magic when it was necessary. Hadn’t she wished she was someone else? Hadn’t she wanted to be rid of her power? And hadn’t Thane done the same? His own people didn’t even know what he was capable of—he didn’t even know.
There was no more hiding. No more running. She was the queen piece on this board, and it was time she put on her crown. “So, how do we wake him?”
