The Death King (Death #1)

Prologue I

PROLOGUE I

CALISTA

The stone hearth was ablaze with flames, burning the dry logs of wood and filling the room with a quiet crackle that would normally lull me to sleep, even in the middle of the day. The book was open between my fingertips, but I read the same line more than once. I read it at least ten times, but I didn’t absorb it one bit.

My eyes kept flicking up…to look at him.

My father.

He sat behind his desk, strong shoulders slouched, his elbow propped on the velvet armrest with his fingertips across his lips. His eyes weren’t on the fire but a random spot across his study. His stare was so focused, he hadn’t blinked in over a minute. I’d seen my father like this many times, absorbed in the stress of ruling our kingdom. But tonight was different.

I could feel it.

The tension was taut like a rope about to snap in the middle. It was sharp like the edge of a new blade. It was heavy like the summer air mixed with rain. I examined the side of his face and stared at the lines of dismay.

Quick footsteps sounded in the hallway, growing louder as they approached the study, heavy combat boots worn by a menacing soldier.

My father slowly lowered his hand and stared at the door, his spine straightening as his posture lifted.

I lowered the book to my lap, knowing something was about to happen.

The doors burst open without preamble. They flung apart and slammed against the wall behind them, denting the paint. Lieutenant Finney burst into the room, his breathing labored like he’d run all the way here from the border. Without a glance at me, he moved to the desk and blurted the news to my father. “Kravensworth has fallen.”

The book slipped from my hands altogether. It hit the rug at my feet with a quiet thud. I stared down at it as I swallowed.

My father rose to his feet with purpose, as if he was prepared to storm out of the castle and raise his sword in battle. But he stood there for several seconds, staring at his lieutenant in heavy silence. “How?” He swallowed. “The walls of the capital are impenetrable, fortified by more soldiers than all of our nations combined…” Normally, he would dismiss me from these discussions because of my age, but he knew he couldn’t shield me from what was to come.

Lieutenant Finney continued to breathe heavily, drops of perspiration visible on his shiny forehead. “Their king rides upon a dragon.”

The room was already quiet, but it somehow quieted even further.

My eyes moved back to the book I’d dropped, as if sparing my sight of the moment would shield my mind too.

“They say he has powers.” The lieutenant held my father’s gaze.

“What kinds of powers?” my father asked. “All magic died with the mages…”

Lieutenant Finney didn’t answer for a long time.

My eyes lifted to look at him, anxious for the silence to end.

He still didn’t answer, as if he didn’t want to give the news. “He can command the dead.”

I hadn’t spoken a word since the conversation had begun, but a quiet gasp escaped my lips when I failed to contain it. Kravensworth was the capital of our world, a beautiful port city to the south. The most powerful city in our nation, it protected us from assailants across the sea, pirates who had tried to loot our land for riches in the past. We submitted to its rule in exchange for protection.

But now, there was no one to protect us.

Instead of lowering himself back into the chair with grace, my father dropped down with a thud. He slouched, his hand returning to his clenched mouth. “What does he want?” He spoke in a whisper, like it was only meant for himself to hear.

“I don’t know,” Lieutenant Finney said. “But I know he’ll come for us next.”

From that moment on, the kingdom prepared for war.

A war we had no chance of winning.

Every able-bodied man over the age of sixteen was enlisted to fight. They were given a single day of combat training from the veteran soldiers then given a sword and flimsy armor to protect their skin. All the good armor was already taken, and there simply wasn’t enough for everyone else.

I was a fifteen-year-old girl. Too young to fight and too physically weak to contribute in any meaningful way. All I could do was sit there and watch my father slowly die from the poison of stress. We couldn’t evacuate, not when there was nowhere to flee, not when the Death King would hunt us from the skies.

We couldn’t fight. We couldn’t flee. We couldn’t do anything.

All we could do was await our fate.

“Calista.”

My eyes were on the bowl of soup in front of me. It was still hot, steam rising to warm the skin of my cheeks. We’d had a rough winter this year, several feet of snow falling throughout the night, and that just made our woes worse. I lifted my chin to meet my father’s look across the table.

He seemed just as disinterested in his soup. The servants served us like nothing had changed, like death wasn’t marching for our doorstep. The sheets were still changed daily, fresh meals were placed in front of us, and our clothes were still ironed.

I stared at my father and waited for him to say his piece.

He gave a quiet sigh and let his eyes drop slowly. “I’m sorry…for all of this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“My father had a peaceful reign. So have I. But it seems that luck has run out. Goes to show that nothing ever stays the same…”

I looked at my soup again.

“You deserve to be a child. To be happy. Not to watch your father prepare for a battle against a necromancer.”

I kept my eyes on my soup. “He may not come?—”

“He will. I won’t shield you from horror, but I don’t want you to be oblivious either.”

I lifted my chin to look at him. “What happened…to the people of Kravensworth?”

His eyes locked on mine for a long while. “I don’t know. I imagine he beheaded King Theodore and took his crown. Now, he rules over the people as his own. If it was that easy for him to take the capital, then it’ll be even easier to take the other kingdoms.”

“Then we should surrender,” I said. “Submit to his reign…”

My father stared at the table.

“We recognized King Theodore as our king. What does it matter who sits on the throne if we keep our kingdoms and our heads?”

He remained quiet.

“Father?”

“We don’t know who we’re dealing with, Calista. A necromancer…as our king? It makes me sick. To disturb the peace of the dead, to command the quiet spirits, to raise corpses from the soil to do his bidding…is truly disturbing. Imagine how our lives would change with someone like that in charge.”

Bumps formed across my arms. My heart even skipped a beat, like it was too afraid to make the slightest sound. “But we can’t defeat him…”

He stared at me for a long time, seeming to be at a loss for words. “There are worse things than dying.”

“ Roooaaaarrrrrrr .”

I jerked up in bed at the sound, my gently beating heart now in a sprint. My eyes pierced the darkness of my bedroom before I turned to the window, expecting to see something that wasn’t there.

Did I really hear that? Or was that a dream?

I threw off the covers and hopped out of bed to reach the window, the frost so thick against the glass I couldn’t see outside. I tugged the sleeve of my nightgown and used it to rub against the ice-cold glass, but because the cold was on the outside, that was a waste of time. I twisted the clasp then pushed the window open, making it fly back on its hinges. The cold air rushed straight into my face, the temperature so spiteful it made me break out in a cough. When it subsided, I looked into the darkness, hearing nothing.

“Maybe it was just a dream.”

And then I heard it again.

“Roooaaaaarrrrrr !”

I screamed and backed away from the window, seeing the distant torches from the city below. Soldiers were running through the streets, preparing for battle. Once my ears recovered from the scream, I could hear their shouts from below.

Then I heard it…the sound of wings.

I couldn’t see it, not in the darkness, not high above the torches.

But I felt it.

I left the window open and ran to my dresser. My clothing and armor were laid out just for the occasion. With shaky hands, I forced everything on, struggling with the clasps on the armor because I’d never been this afraid. All I had was a dagger in my belt, the swords the soldiers carried far too heavy for me.

I left my bedchambers and ran down the long hallway, sprinting to my father’s royal bedchambers on the opposite side of the castle. The door was ajar, and I stumbled inside to see that it was vacant. “Father?”

Servants ran down the hallways, fully aware of the assault that had begun on the castle. I ran back into the hallway and bumped into Marie, the maid who attended to my father’s personal care. “Have you seen my father?”

“I’m sorry, I haven’t.” She ran off without further thought.

The horns sounded, so loud they were audible all the way from the city wall and through the stone that fortified the castle. It was the call of battle, a sound I’d never heard but could recognize instantly.

I ran to the front of the castle, desperate to find my father, knowing he wouldn’t have left me without saying goodbye. I made it to the entrance to the keep, the double doors open to the nighttime air.

My father stood there, dressed in his armor without a helmet, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as the blade remained in the scabbard. I could only see him from the back, but his powerful posture was unmistakable.

I skidded to a halt when I saw what came next.

Out of the sky, an enormous, winged beast slowly lowered to the stone foundation of the castle. It was dark like the night, his scales mapping out the details of his shape, glinting in the torchlight.

When its claws hit the earth, the ground rumbled.

Half the size of the castle, the winged beast was a monstrosity. It bowed its head and looked at the king, its jaws big enough to fit five fully grown men in a single bite. He breathed quietly, his teeth slightly parted, but the sound was loud, like the horns that had just blared.

I was frozen to the spot, so terrified I didn’t even notice the cold as it froze my skin.

None of the soldiers attacked. Cannons weren’t fired. The quiet was so profound that the only sound was the breathing of the beast and the flickering torches.

Then the dragon lowered himself farther to the ground, allowing his rider to climb down and drop to the stone.

I swallowed, seeing the black-clad rider straighten before he unsheathed his blade from the scabbard that hung at his back. His armor was matte black, textured and grooved, containing his muscular physique in an impenetrable shell. Slowly, he moved forward, his gait slow and arrogant. The features of his face weren’t visible from this far away, not when it was cast in shadow, but as he drew near, they came into view.

He had dark eyes like his armor—black not brown like hazelnut or warm coffee. Dark like the scales of his dragon or the sky on the darkest night. They were black…an eye color I’d never seen.

He stopped fifteen feet away from my father, the two-handed heavy sword still gripped in his gloved hand as it rested by his side. The tops of his gloves were covered in grooved spikes, like a single punch to the face could impale the skulls of his enemies. He was tall, taller than my father, taller than all of the soldiers who stood there.

I remained in the back and continued to breathe like I was running rather than standing still.

He gave my father a stare that was both menacing and indifferent at the same time. Not once had he blinked since dismounting his dragon. His eyes held no fear or dread, just a hint of annoyance.

His face was distinguished by its hardness, with its sharp cheekbones and jawline sharp like his blade. Rivers ran up his neck, tight cords like branches from the roots of his muscles. I’d lived a sheltered life of luxury in the castle, so I’d never witnessed such a sight—a man with so much rage. All of it was conveyed in a single stare.

My father didn’t say a word. I wondered if he was as scared as I was.

The Death King spoke, his voice deep like the middle of a rushing stream. “You have what I seek.” He still didn’t blink, his focus more profound than his bodily needs. “Give it to me—and your kingdom will be spared.”

Entranced by his words, I stepped forward, closer to danger, desperate to understand his meaning.

My father said nothing.

The Death King didn’t speak again, but his eyes narrowed in command.

“What do you want?” My father’s voice was surprisingly strong, not quivering the way mine would if I were faced with a necromancer and his powerful dragon.

“Before I fed King Theodore to Khazmuda, he said you knew the location of the remaining dragons of this land. Give me that location, and your kingdom will be spared. Refuse—and I’ll burn everyone.”

My eyes immediately shifted to my father, staring hard at his back, the revelation news to me. Dragons had died out so long ago that they were considered myth and legend at this point. I hadn’t believed they were real until I saw this one in the flesh—and the scales. To know they existed in these lands…sounded like a fairy tale.

A dark fairy tale.

My father stood there in silence, the recipient of that ruthless gaze.

When the Death King didn’t get the answer he wanted, he cocked his head slightly. “You choose beasts over your own people. You choose to protect dragons, beings who have chosen not to protect you.”

“I know nothing of dragons. King Theodore obviously said whatever you wanted to hear in the hope of sparing his life.”

Seconds passed, and the Death King stared, his eyes still focused and angry. “The end of this tale is the same, regardless of the journey. Your blood and muscle will nourish my dragon—but your people may live. Choose wisely.”

“Do what you must—and I’ll do the same.” My father turned around, showing his back to the Death King, and walked through the double doors to the castle, the doors that wouldn’t stop the fire of a dragon for long.

The Death King watched him go, the tip of his blade still pointed to the ground, his hard eyes focused on my father’s back.

Once my father crossed the threshold, the guards shut the doors and barred them closed. They dropped the planks into the latch, fortifying the door, but everything was made of wood. Wood that would crackle and burn like dry logs in a fireplace.

My father walked past me. “Lieutenant Finney, you’re to escort my daughter through the secret passage to the mountains. Go there and don’t look back.”

“What?”

My father turned to me, a defeated look in his eyes. “Go with him, Calista.”

“What about you?”

“My place is here.” His eyes had never looked so empty, so hopeless. He spoke to me like I was a stranger, with no emotion whatsoever, just complete apathy. “There isn’t time to argue. The doors will hold a few minutes if we’re lucky.”

“Father…” My tears were instantaneous because I knew this was goodbye. The last time I would ever see him alive. I would flee underground, and he would be fed alive to a dragon. There would be no corpse to bury.

He grabbed both of my shoulders and looked down at me. “I need you to be brave, Calista. Can you do that?”

“Not as brave as you.”

His eyes softened. “I love you, darling.”

I tried to say it back, but I couldn’t. I just cried harder. “I—I love you too.”

He kissed my forehead before he let me go. He walked off without looking back, his men going with him.

“Come on, Princess.” Lieutenant Finney grabbed me by the shoulder and dragged me away.

I cried as he steered me to the stairs and down the stone steps. I heard a loud explosion, and then the castle shook. It shook so hard we flew apart and hit the wall. The castle started to crumble. I could feel it shudder under the force of the dragon.

Finney grabbed me again and dragged me along, forcing me several levels down under the castle toward the prisoner cells under the keep. Then I felt another shake, another crumble, and the roof caved in.

“Move!”

Stone rained down from above.

I sprinted up the stairs and missed a heavy piece of stone by inches. I kept going, crawling with dust all over me. The shaking stopped, and I clung to the stone steps in case it started again. When nothing happened, I looked behind me.

The stairs had collapsed.

Lieutenant Finney was gone.

“Lieutenant!” I sprinted back and hit the wall of stone, the path to safety gone. “Finney!” I screamed into the rocks, tried to get my hand in between the grooves to move the boulders, but it was too heavy, and I was too weak.

And in my heart…I knew he was dead.

There was no way out.

I headed back the way I came, passing servants who tried desperately to leave the castle through the other exits, but they were all blocked by fallen debris. The castle was already destroyed, and when I felt a rush of cold air, I knew the roof was gone and only the night sky was above me.

I ran back to where my father had just been, but the soldiers were gone. There was no way out of the castle, so I didn’t know where he went. Hiding out in a crumbling castle didn’t seem like the most strategic move.

“The king is dead.”

I turned to the hallway where I’d heard the soldier make the announcement.

“General Vitton is in charge now. He has instructed us all to abandon the castle and fall in line with the ranks.”

I sprinted into the hallway and saw the soldier who had just spoken, standing in front of my father’s study. I recognized his face, had known him my entire life, but in that moment, his name was forgotten. “What did you just say?” My tears were suppressed by a dam made of flimsy material, and any moment, the water would spring free.

He stilled when he saw me, his eyes shifting back and forth in a panic. “Princess, you were supposed to leave the castle?—”

“The passage is blocked. Lieutenant Finney is dead. What—what did you say about my father?”

“I—I’m sorry.” The other soldiers started to file out. He glanced at them, knowing he needed to evacuate the castle before it collapsed on all of us. He looked at the study before he turned away. “Run, Princess. There’s nothing left for you here.” He joined the others, leaving me alone in the hallway, the walls shaking again as the dragon pulled out another section of the stone.

Instead of fleeing with the others, I looked inside the study.

There he was, collapsed on top of the surface, his body still in the chair where he used to sit every day, going over ledgers or poring over old maps. The place where he would work while I read by the fire.

Stunned by the horror, I stared for seconds, traumatized but unable to look away. Then I sprinted to him. “Father!” I grabbed his body and shook him, like he would wake up from this stress-induced coma, but his body was limp and lifeless.

That was when I noticed the vial in his dead fingertips.

A vial with drops of yellow at the bottom.

I stared as I stepped back, unable to absorb the truth of what had just happened. “No…” I cupped my mouth and stifled the hot tears, the kind so sharp and painful they sliced my skin on the way down. The castle continued to tremble, the kingdom was about to be slaughtered, but all I could do was cry.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, so distinctive they made me stifle my tears. My childhood had been spent hearing the tap of metal from the soldiers as they passed my bedroom door in the middle of the night. I could hear them approach from outside my father’s study as we sat by the fire together. And this sound…was nothing like that.

It was heavy, not metallic. It was purposeful and confident. Menacing.

The castle stopped shaking. All went quiet.

Then the Death King stepped into the study, his sword hooked across his back, his presence so potent I felt that I would see him even if I were blind. His men appeared behind him, in similar armor but with dark shades of gray rather than his matte black.

I crept back into the corner, hoping not to be seen, my tears subsiding.

The Death King slowly made his way to the desk, looking down at my father with a subtle look of disgust. He eyed the vial before he pried it from my father’s limp fingers and held it up to examine the yellow drops that remained. “Nightshade—a coward’s respite.” He threw the vial down, the glass shattering on impact. “Search his study and quarters.”

One of the men turned to the bookshelves next to me, and he stilled when he noticed me, crouched down behind one of the armchairs. He didn’t have the same strength or power as the man he served, but he was formidable in his own right. There was definite savagery in his gaze. “Found something.” The corner of his mouth rose in a sneer.

My hand reached into my belt and gripped the hilt of my dagger. It was no match for his sword and his strength, but if I was going to die, I was going to take an eye or a nose with me. I tried to back up farther, but the wall was like a mountain, and I was stuck.

He kicked the chair aside, and it toppled over. “Ooh, she’s pretty.” He grabbed me by the arm and yanked me forward to the floor in front of him. “Small and pretty.” He kneeled down, grabbed me by the neck, and squeezed. “Exactly how I like ’em.”

Tears burned my eyes as the fear made me tremble. The sickening smile, the taunt in his gaze, it was the stuff of nightmares. With a jolt of strength that came from the instinct to survive, I swiped my dagger across his neck, cutting a distinct line of blood.

He jolted back and grabbed his neck to stanch the bleeding. “Bitch.”

I kicked him aside and tried to run for it, but the other guard was ready for me. He slapped me across the face with his metal glove and sent me flying back to the ground.

The first guard continued to grip his neck to stop the bleeding, but his eyes promised retribution. “Gut her like an elk.”

The guard standing pulled out his blade, several feet long and with a burnished tip from all the battles he’d won. He spun it around his wrist then gripped the hilt with both hands, prepared to stab the blade straight through my middle and pin me to the rug.

But then the Death King raised his palm—and everything stopped.

He walked over to us, his footsteps slow like he was in no real hurry, and stopped when he stood over me. With that same piercing gaze he’d shown my father, he looked down at me, eyes open and unblinking, his stare like the night sky. “Princess.” He cocked his head slightly, continuing to look at me.

“Shall I stab her through the belly or feed her to Khazmuda?”

I lay there stuck on the floor, tears still leaking from the corners of my eyes and streaking down my cheeks. I wanted to look death in the face and smile, but I’d never been so terrified, my father’s corpse just feet away from me. He was with my mother now—and I would be there soon.

He continued to stare, mesmerized by my shaking and my fear. “She’s suffered enough. Let her go.”

The guard looked at the Death King as if he’d misheard the order or wanted him to reconsider.

But the Death King kept his hard gaze glued to mine. “I’ve looked evil in the face, but I’ve never witnessed such cruelty. To take his own life and abandon his daughter to her fate… I thought I was the monster—but her father has me beat.” He finally pulled his gaze off me and looked at the guard who served him. “Sheathe your blade and let her go.”

The guard’s hesitation lasted less than a second. He withdrew his blade and returned it to the scabbard.

The guard I had stabbed continued to plant his palm against his neck, the blood dripping down his fingers and onto his lap.

The Death King stepped forward and extended his hand to me.

I climbed to my feet and toppled forward in my haste to take off. My knees hit the floor, but I pushed up again, my mind moving faster than my body could obey. When I was secure on my feet, I dashed out the door and took off at breakneck speed. The double doors to the castle were open, and the floor was littered with the dead soldiers who’d given their lives to stop the man who’d stormed the castle and our lives.

I fled into the night…with nowhere to go.