Kastali Dun

Claire allowed Reyr to drag her through the keep’s corridors towards what was undoubtedly the south wing, the place where King Talon lived. Initially, she was too astounded to protest. How was it possible? How had she done magic? She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to understand it. One moment Caterina was clawing at Desaree and the next she was slammed into the ceiling. Onlookers blamed the matter entirely on her. She should have disputed their accusations. She should have denied her involvement in the matter.

Arguably, she had never physically touched Caterina. Yet, with the same certainty as the crowd, she knew she was the one responsible. The moment she’d performed whatever it was—magic—it felt as if some of her essence exploded away from her. When that power left, a formidable wave of exhaustion clung to her body leaving her breathless and weak.

“Reyr…” They’d climbed a set of stairs that took them into a wide corridor. “I don’t understand how this happened.” There was panic in her voice. What was wrong with her? First telepathy, then Cyrus’s voice, and now magic? “I swear I didn’t mean to hurt her like that.”

She began to pull against him the closer they got to King Talon’s tower. Her own reluctance was mounting.

“Whether or not you understand what happened, Claire, it happened. You performed magic.”

“But…I…” She fumbled for words. “Can’t we stop for a moment to talk about this? Please! Why must we take this matter to the king? Can’t we settle it another way?”

She stopped to face him. For a moment he gazed back at her, saying nothing. Then his face softened. “Unfortunately it is too late for that. You of all people know how quickly thoughts travel when sent telepathically. Did you fail to hear our king’s command in your mind? I was told to bring you to him.”

“Oh…” Aegan had dulled the potency of voices within her mind. She must have missed King Talon’s summons amidst all of the chaos. “So he already knows about this? About me?”

“Aye. I told him the moment it happened.”

Her heart sank. She felt betrayed, even though it was illogical. Reyr’s duty was to his king, not to her. But that didn’t stop her chest from collapsing. He must have said something the moment he saw what happened, instead of asking her first. He’d ratted her out.

“It was only an accident, Reyr,” she whispered. The corridor they stood in was empty. She took a step backwards. “You know King Talon is going to make this more than what it is.”

“And what is it? How do you explain what happened? How do you explain your use of magic?”

“I…” There was no explanation for it. She shook her head.

Reyr stepped up beside her. “Come now. Let us not leave King Talon waiting.” He placed a hand firmly on her lower back.

She had no choice. This time her reluctant feet moved slowly. Each step felt heavy.

When they passed into the south wing, a feeling of dread came over her. It intensified with each corridor and staircase they strode through. The castle grew more lavish. Reyr led her down a carpeted hall. She glanced about, longing for an escape route. Opulent paintings graced the walls, enshrined within finely carved wooden frames painted with gold leaf. Each depicted a large dragon and a crowned woman. She passed several before realizing they were the kings and queens of Dragonwall.

“Reyr—” She gulped in air, trying to breathe. “You’re not going to tell King Talon about…about my ability, are you? You’re not going to tell him that I hear the Drengr, are you?”

He sighed but did not answer. They were already at their destination. The keep’s soldiers standing guard at the tower’s entrance parted their spears. She could feel blood pounding past her ears. Her palms grew instantly sweaty, and no amount of swallowing could quench the sudden dryness of her throat.

Ever since coming to Kastali Dun, every dealing with King Talon had gone poorly. The trial was only a taste of what she experienced in the torture chambers. Their most recent interaction in the servant’s corridor had been better, sure, but still awkward. What would happen now?

She and Reyr stepped into a lavish entry chamber leading directly into a circular sitting room. A large couch arrangement was set about a tall fireplace. Her eyes zeroed in on this feature, but not because of the marble’s grandeur. No, it was the formidable and nearly statuesque draconic male standing with one arm propped upon the fireplace mantle, staring into dying embers. The sight of him completely stole her breath.

Talon’s gaze snapped to hers. The hairs on her skin reached outward, as if trying to flee her body. Apprehension sank into the pit of her stomach. Talon’s regard was stony. His silver eyes danced with suppressed anger.

Reyr deposited her in front of an armchair that faced King Talon. “Sit.” His clipped command did not offer comfort. He moved away, leaving her the sole victim of Talon’s roving gaze. For all the times she and Reyr seemed friends, this very moment hinted otherwise.

She wanted to sit as Reyr had instructed her, only, she couldn’t. She was captured by Talon’s penetrating stare like a bug caught in a spider’s web. Today he wore a dark blue velvet tunic, one she’d seen before, with a silver dragon head embroidered just above his left breast. His black pants were accented with shiny black boots. Strapped to his waist was a glittering belt encrusted with black stones. The sheath of his Sverak was likewise decorated. The same crown she’d seen on his head during her trial rested there now.

This wasn’t going to end well.

His lips parted. “Reyr told you to sit.”

She sank into the plush chair. The other Shields were there too, she finally noticed, sitting about the fireplace. Her eyes flicked to each of them before finding Talon again. She couldn’t let him out of her sight. Too many memories from the torture chamber replayed in her mind. Would he put a dagger to her throat as he’d done then?

“Explain yourself.” Talon’s voice was rich enough to captivate a willing audience, but powerful enough to leave his enemies quaking. Where did she fit into that equation?

She opened her mouth and instead croaked. Mortified, she swallowed. She hadn’t a reasonable answer anyway. Talon would never settle for, I don’t know.

“Well?”

“I don’t know…” She echoed the thought.

“How can you not know?” His gaze narrowed. “Did you or did you not throw a certain lady against the ceiling, thus rendering her unconscious?”

“I…I did—”

“What lady?” Jovari interrupted.

“Lady Caterina,” said Reyr. “I didn’t have time to relay the particulars during the heat of the moment. There was a skirmish between Caterina, Claire, and another servant girl—I do not remember her name.”

“Wait. Lady Caterina?” Koldis sat forward in his seat. “The same Lady Caterina whom we all love so dearly? That is the reason for this emergency?” His eyes moved from Claire’s to Reyr’s. Reyr confirmed with a curt nod. Koldis grinned. “Let me get this straight, Claire, you knocked Lady Caterina unconscious?”

She managed to nod.

“Ha! Then why in the name of the gods are we sitting here as if you’ve committed a crime? A favor perhap—”

“Koldis!” Talon snapped. “That is enough.” Koldis shrugged, unbothered by Talon’s withering stare. “In any case, it is not who but rather how Claire accomplished this feat.”

Koldis sat back against the sofa and crossed his arms.

“Now—” Talon turned back to her. “Explain yourself.”

“I…I don’t know how it happened.” She couldn’t explain something she didn’t understand. “One moment Caterina was hurting Desaree, and the next moment she was flying through the air.”

“Desaree?” Verath startled, sitting forward.

“Yes, Lord Verath. Caterina attacked Desaree. If I hadn’t…” She shook her head. “I got so angry…” Verath’s face hardened into stone.

“I do not need the background story, Claire.” Her mouth snapped shut. “You lied to us. That is what bothers me. That is why you’re here.”

“No…” She shook her head. “I didn’t know. This is the first—”

“Perhaps use this opportune moment to reveal your secret?” Reyr locked eyes with her.

She couldn’t. Not now. Not yet. Not like this. She gave an imperceptible shake of her head. There was no way she could tell Talon about her ability, not when he was this angry.

You must tell him about me. It is time.

She balked at Cyrus’s command. First Reyr, now Cyrus. Was he crazy?

“Tell me, Claire, how old are you?” Talon’s question caught her off guard.

“Um. Twenty-two.”

“People do not simply live out twenty-two years of life and suddenly perform magic.” Talon sighed as if disappointed. “How can we trust you after this?”

“Everything I ever told you was true!” she cried, raising her voice more than she had intended. This didn’t include the things she hadn’t told him.

“Is that so? Everything that happened to Cyrus? What you told me of his death? The things he said to you? You left no details out?” Talon shifted from one foot to the other. “I get the impression you are hiding something. Why is that?”

She almost groaned.

You cannot ignore what happened when I died.

All the air left her chest. Cyrus’s words forced her to remember one key fact, one piece of information she never mentioned during her discussion with Talon. “Wait,” she said.

Talon’s gaze narrowed. “Excellent,” he said, unamused. “The truth comes out at last.”

“I never lied,” she snapped back. “But…I think there is something I might have forgotten to mention.” Her mind reenacted her last moments with Cyrus. Her fingers went to her lips.

“And?” Talon’s eyes narrowed.

“Before Cyrus died…he…he kissed me.” There was a long silence. She studied Talon. He frowned. It was the first unguarded emotion he’d displayed. The rest of her audience watched with wide-eyed looks of surprise. “I never mentioned our kiss because it seemed harmless. It was a simple act to ease his passing and it was all I could do for him.” Her throat tightened and her eyes watered. She blinked to clear her vision.

“A kiss is hardly important to us,” said Jovari. He looked disappointed, like he’d expected something much bigger than this.

“But…don’t you see?” She looked from one to the next, silently pleading with them to realize what she already had.

“I fail to see what this has to do with anything.” Talon’s frown was now replaced by impassivity.

She sighed. “Just before Cyrus died, he asked me to do something—one last thing to ease his suffering. I thought…” She shook her head. “He asked me to kiss him. I believed that he was merely lonely. Something must have happened when our lips touched.” She knew exactly what had happened. Somehow, Cyrus’s voice embedded itself within her mind. “Now all of a sudden I can do magic. Not only that, sometimes he talks to me. I’m sure it’s him.”

A long silence and then—

“The Gift.” Verath’s voice was filled with disbelief. “Is it…is it even possible?” He looked at King Talon. “It would explain her magic and the presence of his voice in her mind.”

She swallowed. “Um, what…what is the Gift?”

“That’s impossible.” Talon’s voice was dangerously low.

“Not necessarily, Your Majesty. Think about it. Cyrus knew what was coming for us. He knew of Kane’s plans. He knew Claire’s Unbreakable Promise would be difficult for her. An outsider with no knowledge of Dragonwall could hardly hope to achieve what she has. Against many odds, Claire succeeded.”

She listened, wide-eyed, to Verath’s explanation. He was right on all counts. Cyrus had gotten her through many sticky situations.

“Wait a moment!” Jovari’s burst of excitement drew everyone’s eyes. “Reyr, remember when the Vodar attacked us?!”

“I do.”

“Remember how she was fighting? As if she were Cyrus himself.”

“Jovari is right,” Koldis cut in. “The theory explains much of our unanswered questions.”

“In his final moments Cyrus knew—somehow he knew,” said Jovari, eyes wide. “His Gift was his final act. It was all he could do to help us.”

“It’s rather incredible.” Bedelth spoke for the first time.

“I suppose it is plausible,” Talon mused.

At this, they all began speaking at once—

“Excuse me,” she all but shouted, interrupting them. “But is anyone going to actually tell me what this Gift-thing is? I’m sure you’d all love to discuss me indefinitely, and by all means, continue after I have left. But right now, I just want to know what the hell is happening to me.” She glared at them.

Verath sighed. “Apologies, Claire. The Gift is a rare and ancient magic. Very little is known about it. How many documented cases have there been?” He looked about the room. “Three, perhaps? I am shocked that Cyrus knew enough about it to succeed. Then again, he was always well-read.” A frown pulled at the corners of her lips. “The Gift is a blessing…of sorts,” he continued. “Cyrus used an act of intimacy to pass his soul to you. In so doing, everything that was bound to him—his magic, his ability to bend minds, his memories—all passed to you.”

“What?” She deflated against the sofa, horrorstruck. “How…how is that a Gift?”

“I suppose the term is a bit ironic.”

“You…you think? So I’ve got to live with all this…this stuff inside me now?”

“It is not a plague.” Talon scoffed. “Cyrus is not some disease you must be subjected to for the remainder of your life. He made a selfless sacrifice, giving up his soul’s opportunity to pass into the world beyond.”

She all but choked. Cyrus, robbed of the afterlife?! Talon’s words sank in, embedding deep within her heart. Her head was spinning. It was a lot to process.

“If what you say is true, Verath, then Cyrus is not with Leeana.” Reyr sounded sad. He was the only other Shield to have once had a mate. He understood the implication. “Cyrus has sacrificed his eternity of happiness for us so that his soul might remain here longer than it ought.”

“I can hardly believe it,” Koldis whispered. “Cyrus has truly returned to us.” Koldis turned to her, his expression strange.

Reyr stood and came over to her, going down on one knee. He took her hand in his. “All this time,” he whispered, studying her face with utter disbelief. “All this time and you were right here with us.”

Her eyebrows scrunched together. This was getting…weird. She looked up from Reyr and saw that the others were looking at her strangely too. She cleared her throat. “Um, Reyr, it’s still me here, you know. Claire? I’m still the outsider you all hate so much. I don’t think you can simply talk to me as if I’m Cyrus now. It doesn’t work that way.”

“Perhaps not.” Reyr’s expression didn’t change. “But now we know that part of Cyrus is in there somewhere.” He got to his feet and turned to face the king. “You know what this means, Talon.”

Talon’s face was unreadable. Did he regret the way he’d treated her? Now that he understood a small part of her housed the remains of a beloved soul? He sighed, his shoulders dropping. “It means a great deal. Claire must be trained. Her abilities will strengthen our odds in the war to come.” His silver eyes fell upon her. He no longer looked angry. There was hope there.

“And what of her position?” Koldis came to stand behind her chair. He placed a hand upon her shoulder. Koldis, of all people. The simple act comforted her.

“She can be a servant no longer.” Talon ran his fingers along the mantle. “My attempt to hide her away was going to fail anyway.”

She frowned. Hide her away? That was his intention?

“The people will resist her,” Reyr said. “They will be reluctant to accept an outsider.”

“Yes, their reluctance will be severe. There is only one way to mitigate it. I must change her status officially within the court.”

Reyr opened and closed his mouth. “Let me be certain I understand you, my king. You would take responsibility for her?” He paused to allow Talon’s interjection, but it did not come. “I admit, I am surprised.”

Talon shrugged. “Be surprised, if you must. It is the best way to proceed. I must declare her my ward. The people will have no choice but to accept her. From now on, she will be my responsibility, under the protection of the crown.”

Her jaw dropped. “I am not a child to be looked after!” she hissed. “How is this any better than—”

“Claire, you misunderstand,” Reyr interrupted. “Becoming King Talon’s ward does not peg you as a child. You are a woman grown, after all.”

“Then what does it mean?”

“It means that you will be elevated in status, elevated higher than everyone but King Talon himself.”

Her eyes widened. “But—”

“It means,” Talon cut in, “that you will be royal.”

“Royal…” she repeated, allowing the sound to tumble off her tongue like a foreign word. She frowned. Royal…? She burst into hysterical laughter, doubling over in her chair. After everything King Talon had put her through, treating her like a traitor, throwing her in a cell, trying her before the elite of the kingdom, forcing her into a torture chamber, subjecting her to servitude. This was the most outlandish thing she could have imagined. It was simply too much.

Her psychotic laughter died down and she looked up. The others gazed back at her with perplexed expressions. “Excuse me a moment,” she said, “I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to become the responsibility of someone who tried to kill me.”

Her words hit their mark. King Talon turned a dark shade of red. She’d never seen him flustered. Never. He quickly honed his expression. “Accept it,” he snapped. “You can start by acting like a lady. That includes watching your tongue when you address your king.”

She schooled her features. Was this what it would be like? Scolded and rebuked at every turn. “I take it I have no choice in the matter?”

“None whatsoever.”

She clenched her jaw and held her tongue, not because the king told her to be lady-like, but because she knew if she opened her mouth now, she was going to get herself into trouble.

“Both of you ought to relax,” Reyr said, lifting his hands to diffuse the situation. “Let’s all get along. We are not your enemies, Claire.”

She flashed Talon an angry glare before turning to Reyr. “So what happens now?”

“Well, the king will announce the changes, but until then you should lay low.”

She opened her mouth—

“She will need to begin her training soon,” said Verath. “The sooner she learns to control her magic, the better for everyone.”

“Agreed,” said Bedelth.

“And she ought to be given a better room,” said Jovari, crossing his arms, eying her with what looked like mischief.

“And something better to wear.” Koldis grinned down at her.

They erupted into a flood of comments and suggestions, each expressing concern over the future and the role she would play. She felt a little lightheaded listening to it. She wasn’t certain how the king’s announcement of her status would go over, but one thing was certain. Everything was about to change.