Dardanos stopped in the middle of the bustling park and turned to face me, his huge hands covering my upper arms. “Lauren…” His eyes were pained, yet intense, as he leaned forward and brought his face close to mine, his breath soft against my cheeks. I inched my arms around his neck until I stood on my toes. It closed the distance between us, and Dardanos pressed his lips against mine, his arms tightening around my waist. Nothing else in the world mattered—not even the bystanders’ whistles in the background.
I closed my eyes, soaking in the feel of him, surrounded by the sweet smell of flowers. How could I ever let this end? Never had I felt so much love for someone, and never had I felt so loved.
After a moment, we knelt down on Dardanos’s cloak, and I leaned into him as he cradled me in his arms, his chin resting on my shoulder. I began the love story we’d bought, reading out loud, while we enjoyed the quiet, comparing our story to the one in the book. When it became too dark to read, we left the park, hand in hand, walking through the candlelit streets, intoxicated by the verdant flowers.
On our way to the inn, I noticed an adorable cafe with wrought iron tables out front. Each had a tapering candle glowing in the center.
“Oh, Dan. Let’s eat.” I pleaded. “This place looks so sweet. I want to make as many memories here as I can.”
Dardanos gazed down at me with loving eyes. “Lauren, you don’t have to go. Stay with me,” he begged.
I stared into his earnest face, his eyes begging me to say yes. He grabbed my hand and led me to a quiet corner behind the café, then reached out and pulled me close, crushing me against his massive chest. “Lauren, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Other girls are mere shadows in the night. You are the sun at noonday.”
I giggled at his romantic words. They might have sounded like a stupid line where I came from, but when he said them… well, let’s just say my knees turned to jelly.
He knelt before me, perfume floating on the breeze. “Lauren, I can’t bear to see you go. Please stay and… and… marry me!” he blurted, acting as surprised at his proposal as I was.
Blinking rapidly, I tired to pull a breath past the huge lump in my throat. Instead, I choked, my face reddening in the soft candlelight. “Dan, I’m sixteen!”
“I know. You are getting old, but I don’t care. I… I love you!”
I laughed. Yep. That was my reaction. I couldn’t help it. The whole scene was out of some classic romance film. On the other hand, I couldn’t imagine ever loving someone else for the rest of my life. I tipped my face up to his.
“Dardanos,” I whispered fervently. “I would love nothing more!”
The barter house bustled, and we all took time picking out the best armor four ourselves, because since we’d trained, we could buy better gear with more enchantments. I looked for priestess robes that would give me energy, healing ability, and intellect. Dardanos bought new armor that glistened like gold, with matching gauntlets, helmet, and chain-mail pants.
Back at the inn, our friends were packed and ready to go. Dardanos’s gave me a lift up on our tiger, and then went back into the inn to get our bags. That was when it happened. All hell broke loose. Zach pointed at the huge emerald-cut diamond ring on my fourth finger.
“Where did you get that?”
I covered my hand and pulled it close to my chest, but I knew it was over. Zach was going to freak. “It’s a gift.”
Zach’s eyebrows raised in speculation. “A gift? Who gives a diamond ring, just for a gift?”
“It doesn’t matter, and it’s none of your business.”
“Does everyone know about this?”
“Yes.”
“And?” Zach asked.
“And nothing. They’re happy for us.”
“Even Flitwicket?” His voice rose to a fever pitch.
I scowled in irritation. “What about Flitwicket? She’s not my mother. I don’t need her permission to get engaged.” I turned away, searching down the street, knowing it was going to get worse.
“Engaged? You’re engaged?”
“Well, that’s what a diamond ring means, Zach!”
“Oh, you’re dead meat as soon as we’re home! You’ll be grounded for the rest of your life!”
I narrowed my eyes and stared at him good and hard. “You’re so stupid, Zach! Stay out of my business and my way.”
“I think I should pass on a tidbit of information you obviously don’t know.” He said, grabbing onto my reins, venom tainting his every word. “Dardanos and Flitwicket used to be in love.” He stood back, his arms crossed, smug.
“You’re lying.” The feeling that spread through my body after he’d said those words… like a slow-moving poison, robbed my mind of coherent thought, my heart of warmth, and took away my reason to be happy…
“Nope. She told me so herself. He dumped her, like she was nothing, for someone else.” Zach sauntered behind his tiger, checking the saddle.
“You’re just saying that to be mean!” I could not accept his words. I wouldn’t. I didn’t believe him. How could I? Who would ever give up Flitwicket, and why? And if it were true, how far had that relationship gone?
Zach stopped what he was doing and turned with a sigh of exasperation. “No, Lauren. I’m not. But you need to remember that the whole world doesn’t revolve around you. There are other people on the planet. I just don’t want to see you hurt. That’s all.”
I couldn’t face him anymore, or the glaring sun, or the staring people. I ran back into the inn before I fell apart out in public.
I raced back to my room and threw myself on the bed. Tears threatened at the corners of my eyes, and if Zach had wanted to ruin my day, he’d succeeded. His words still rang in my ears.
There was no way Dardanos had ever liked Flitwicket. She was older than he was. I tried to picture Dardanos kissing the beautiful dryad, and holding her in his arms, or saying the same romantic words he’d just professed to me.
I pressed a fist to my chest, trying to hold back the ache. So what if they’d loved each other? It didn’t mean anything… but if he’d dumped Flitwicket—who was practically perfect—would he dump me too once he got bored?
A knock on the door startled me, and I quickly searched for a mirror. I did not want to talk to anyone. Even Dardanos. What would I say to him? I moaned in sorrow, wiping away my tears, and then opened the door.
It was Flitwicket. What were the odds? Tears fell anew, and I turned away, unable to hold my emotions back. Flitwicket, who had been like an older sister, put her arms around me, and led me to the bed. She searched my eyes and smoothed my hair. All this time Flitwicket had watched Dardanos and me together, and had said nothing. Was she hurt? Jealous? Angry?
Flitwicket smiled sadly. “I have a feeling we need to talk.”
We sat on the bed, facing one another. I nodded and took a deep breath, hating uncomfortable confrontations like this, and I automatically leaned forward, my hair falling over my eyes like a shield. “Zach told me that you and… that you… and Dardanos…”
“Yes, Lauren. We loved each other once. Long ago.” Flitwicket wiped a tear from my cheek, her robes rustling when she stretched her arm.
“What happened?”
“This is not something you want to hear on your engagement day.” Flitwicket stood and walked over to the window. A slight breeze blew her white-blond hair, lifting the feather-light strands.
“I need to know, Flit.” My eyes pleaded with Flitwicket to answer honestly.
She turned, pain etched on her creamy-white face. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, he never asked me to marry him.”
I nodded. It did make me feel better, and that was something. “Why did he leave you? You’re perfect.”
Flitwicket laughed. “Perfect? No. I wasn’t right for him. Nor was he right for me.” She came back to the bed and sat down. “Although the most famous couples here are a warrior and his priestess, and that is what you are.” She gazed into my eyes, trying to sa
y what words couldn’t.
“So, you think he’s right for me?” I asked, knowing I shouldn’t, but desperately needing the reassurance.
“Only you can answer that,” Flitwicket said. “We should get going though, so dry your tears.” She smiled and patted my face. “Better yet, wash your face. You don’t want your new fiancé thinking he’s bungled things already.”
“Thank you, Flit. For everything. For what it’s worth, I think you’re wonderful.”
“So are you, Lauren of Light.”
Kalika finished saddling up her mount. She took a deep breath and moved up to where Zach stood. “Goodbye, friend.” Zach looked hurt, but she’d told him her plan and didn’t want to change it now. It didn’t make this goodbye any easier. She leaned forward and took his hand. “I wait for you at Black Castle.”
“Okay. We’ll see you soon.” Zach’s eyes were downcast.
She knew the young maverick had developed feelings for her, but that was all it was. A crush, and nothing could come of it. With a sad smile, she squeezed his hand, mounted her wolf, and then trotted away toward the sunset.
After a few hours of hard riding, Kalika caught up to a contingent of drow soldiers marching along the road. “Hello, brothers. Where are you stationed?” she asked, falling into line.
“Over on the coast, but we’ve been called to Odiamus,” the soldier answered.
“Odiamus? The Black Castle?” Why were they going there? She couldn’t stay with this group. Riding with them would ruin her plans. She would have to hurry to make it to the castle before this troop arrived. “Good luck in your journey, and health to your family,” Kalika said, crossing her arm over her chest in the traditional drow way.
The soldiers watched her pass.
Once they were out of sight, she pushed her wolf, riding past dark until the castle came into view. Its dusky turrets stretched like shadows in the moonlight.
A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. This would take all the courage she could muster, the bravery of a seasoned warrior. Steering her mount into the forest, she found a spot to hide. Taking the saddle and reins off the giant wolf, she set him free, then changed from her comfortable leather armor to a soft, light-blue, knee-length dress, something a simple maid would wear. She’d bought the clothes in Glistendale before they’d left, and was relieved to finally be putting her duplicity into action.
The dress floated around her calves with a soft whisper. She tied a white vest over her chest. Little black shoes completed the outfit. Kalika brushed her hair until it glistened like polished ebony all the way to her waist, then stashed her bag with her saddle, intending to come back for it later.
She strolled leisurely toward the castle’s main doors.
A warm glow blanketed the countryside as the moon rose. The guards watched her approach. One dropped his spear, his mouth slack. The other stared in surprise. When she reached them, she gave a small, sweet smile and swished her dress around her bare legs. “Excuse me, gentlemen, I wonder if there is work available inside.” She lowered her lashes demurely.
“Uh…” the first guard replied.
“I… I’m sure… there’s something,” the second guard managed, almost dropping his spear… again.
Kalika giggled, curtsied, and then passed by with a delicate wave of her fingers. The castle bustled with scurrying servants, and nobody paid her any attention. She waited against the wall, hoping for an opportunity to infiltrate. She spied a maid with a tray of food, rushing toward a winding staircase.
She stopped the girl with the confidence of a seasoned spy. She’d done things like this many times. It all came back to her with ease. “Excuse me, I’m supposed to report to the Warlord. I’m his new servant.”
Relief washed over the maid’s face. “I’m so glad! I hate going up there.” She pointed up the flight of stairs. “Here, take this.” She handed Kalika the tray laden with food, then ran off.
Kalika took a deep breath, and then started slowly up, one step at a time. She had never been inside this castle before. Dark shadows writhed on the walls, their inky fingers reaching for her. An ambiance of evil permeated every black crevasse and hidden corner.
At the top, she stopped on a landing in front of a large, open door. A long table rested in the center of the room, and a fire crackled on the east wall. The Warlord reclined in a large chair at the foot of the table, and he wore his steel helmet, his eyes glowing red.
With her best smile, she stepped into the room, hoping he would accept her. Her heart raced, for surely he sensed her deception. Slowly, she strolled toward the table and set the tray before him, her hands trembling.
His head turned as he watched her. “Are you new?” he asked, his voice the deep pit of death.
She flashed him a smile. “Yes, Warlord. Is there anything I can do for you?”
He sat still, staring, the moment stretching until Kalika thought she would scream.
“Come.” He reached out to take her hand. “Sit down.”
Kalika felt waves of evil wash over her at the touch of his fingers, and the blood drained from her head, dizziness overwhelming her. The unusual energy that radiated from him blanketed everything, making her feel contaminated.
He pointed to the chair next to him. “You look faint.” There was a smile in his deadly voice.
Kalika balanced on the edge of the chair. “No, uh, just awed to be in your presence.” She forced herself to smile.
The Warlord leaned back leisurely. “Yes, many are affected this way.” He turned to his food, taking a bite through the steel helmet. They sat in silence, doing nothing for the next half hour.
Kalika didn’t know what she expected to happen, but the quiet pounded loudly in her ears, and sweat soaked through her dress. Deciding to break the ice, she spoke. “Warlord—”
He stopped her with a raised hand. “Don’t call me that.”
Her heart raced, her body wilted. “What… should I call you?” she asked, her voice quivering. She hated herself for her weakness, but never before had she felt so cosmically overpowered.
“I want you… to call me… David.”
“David?” The room seemed so hot, so dark. She couldn’t breathe. She shifted in her seat. “So, David, I admire… your armor.” Kalika wanted to sink into the floor. What a stupid thing to say! She couldn’t think straight under his withering gaze. She had to concentrate or he’d discern her lies.
In interest, he leaned forward. “Do you? I designed it.”
“Really? It looks… powerful.”
“It is.”
Because of his interest, she kept up the compliments, relaxing a fraction. Her only hope was to live through the evening. “Your presence is very commanding.”
“Yes, it is.” He reclined again in his seat.
“That’s wonderful,” she said. More and more, she wanted to escape, but could think of no excuse to leave.
Once again, an uncomfortable silence prevailed until the Warlord leaned forward. “You’re a drow.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve always admired the drow people,” he said, barely moving. “So smart, so crafty.”
Like gravel, his voice ground over her, squashing her self-confidence. “We can be, but we love beauty also. We create beautiful things.”
“That’s true.” Then, in a commanding voice, he asked, “Why did you come here?”
Kalika’s breath caught. Did he suspect her deceit? Could he read her mind? Sweat trickled inside her dress, tickling and creating a maddening itch on her chest. It beaded along her upper lip, and she resisted the urge to wipe it away. “My Lord, my brother recently died in battle, and there is no one left to care for my aging mother. I had to find work.” She could hear him chewing behind the shiny steel helmet. With each crunch, she envisioned him having black, jagged teeth.
“Hmm. Interesting.” Without warning, he stood, his body towering over the table. “I will retire now.”
Kalika’s hands clenched
in reaction, her body flinching. “As you wish, My Lord.” She stood also, relieved and ready to escape.
“David. I said to call me David, but only when we’re alone.”
“Yes… David.”
I galloped behind Kirth toward the Black Castle, frowning, my back tight and my legs flagging. After four days of constant riding, I yearned to move my body. Not to mention the fact that I was beyond depressed. I had not felt the same since handing the pendant over to Kirth, and my soul languished in the cold because of it.
Shaking my head, a thought hit me, and I laughed, wondering why I hadn’t thought of it sooner. I had been trained for running, after all. I flung myself from the saddle, and jogged next to my startled mount, tossing the reigns over the saddle horn, and then I sped up, zipping past my friends.
Kirth called out from behind, but I waved and kept going. Not even Kirth’s spider could keep up. The road stretched out in a straight line, so I pushed my feet for more speed. I was only a blur—a bullet streaking though the trees, and nothing could stop me.
I didn’t turn around for a good long time.
Deemer—Vasu’s trusted friend and servant—happily skipped along the dirt road. A cloud of dust rose in the distance; a party of travelers was heading his way. He scrambled to the side, making himself invisible. As the riders approached, he shrank back.
“Werewolves,” he whispered in horror. The contingent rode at breakneck speed, their mounts panting with effort. This wasn’t the first group of soldiers Deemer had seen and hidden from. Many had passed, all headed for the Black Castle and all with deadly intent.
After the dust settled, the happy but wary little man continued on his way, having to hide three more times. He thought about his master, Vasu, trapped in the Warlord’s cold dungeon. Vasu was old and feeble, but his powers were greater than the Warlord’s. Still, he refused to act, waiting instead for the boy.
The boy with the Pendant of Power.
Deemer followed his energiconometer. He had invented it himself, and it was the only one of its kind, consistently pointing toward the Pendant of Power like a compass. Now and again, he checked the coordinates to confirm he was headed in the right direction. If he kept going straight, he should meet up with the pendant shortly.