The Knight (The Heir #1.5)

4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

O n the night I drove her home from the hospital, she lay passed out in the passenger seat. She had no idea who she really was, just how special she was. If I could just find her a strong seeker’s crystal, then she could be safe—well, depending on the strength of the crystal. The problem was that the crystals in Earth’s realm, the ones that could actually work, were almost impossible to find anymore. Roseville used to be full of seekers’ crystals, decades before. That is what drew us there in the first place. Still, once we arrived, we soon discovered that the real useful ones—if there ever were any—were all gone. All that was left were the useless, non-soul-shielding crystals in the creek behind Mary’s flower shop, and over the years, I had searched that creek along with the area around it in vain, holding to the hope of finding just one strong enough to help.

I suspected, however, that I knew who might have one: Prince Shad. He, no doubt in preparation to find Emma, would have gone to great lengths to find one, and knowing him as I did, he probably had sweet-talked his way into having someone give it to him. I had known Prince Shad on Terra. We weren't exactly friends, for he reached his maturity long after I had reached mine. We were even distantly related. He was a prince of Embra, and his mother was a princess of Torren. His grandparents were the King and Queen of Torren. So, he was of my lineage, though distantly. I was a descendant of King Ronin, the first Guardian knight. But I was far removed from the royals. I had a prestigious family of Knights; we were legendary in our realm. We were trained in Torren, and many royals came to us in search of a guardian knight when they came of age. So, even though I was related to Prince Shad of Embra, I was no prince.

Still, throughout my life, his name often came up in the royal councils I attended. I never had a serious problem with Shad. Sure, the people of Torren as a whole, usually kept to themselves. But Shad’s father could not be trusted. The King of Torren was a vile man. His melody became corrupted early on in his life. There were often rumors and whispers spread regarding what really went on in the kingdom of Torren. What saved the Crown Prince was that he had a brilliant soul’s melody. His soul was always loud and strong. His melody actually made him stand out among the nobles of the heirs. It was even stronger than Lamont’s. Many of the kingdoms wanted to gain access to his melody’s strength through marriage. So even with the rumors of his father, and the secret nature of Torren at the time, he had his pick of princesses. They were all waiting for him to mature, marry, and align with a kingdom. He was the prize everyone wanted to win. Maybe that is what started my dislike of him. He was so widely talked about and so often praised—it irritated me.

So, I needed a crystal. If Shad had one, I knew Emma could use it and maybe even live out her entire life as an average human in this realm with it protecting her from any Terran threat here or elsewhere. But I knew what the prince really wanted. He was looking for her —he wanted her soul's melody. Of course, his strong melody was not enough for him; he craved more. He couldn't have settled for the dozens of other princesses who would gladly have given their melodies and their right arms to him. No, he had to have my charge; he had to want Emma. He would take her away, he would claim her, and I was determined not to allow him into her life if I could help it, not if he was going to take Emma away from Mary and me.

I watched the television for a moment bringing me back to the present as a commercial of a car driving along a winding road came on. As I watched, the images and the words started to blur on the screen, and my memory flashed back again. It continued to plague me, and would keep doing it until it was complete. So, I did not fight it, and let it play back again in my mind one final time.

I opened my side of the car and stepped out, placing the cold metal keys into my pocket. As I walked over to her side of the car, I saw a tall and large figure in the driveway. If I hadn't seen the figure so many times before and known that it belonged to Prince Glasson, I would have been on my guard. But Glasson, though strong and intimidating, was harmless to me—at least at that moment.

"I heard—" His voice paused, and he walked closer to me. "What happened?"

"Glasson—" I crossed my arms. I was not in the mood to talk with anyone, let alone Glasson. He was the well-known rebel, guardian knight and the Crown Prince of Torren. Shielding my melody so often made it harder for me to get a clear reading even on my own emotions, not to mention Emma's, so I definitely didn't know his, and he didn’t know mine. The pause in his speech caused me to think that he was on edge. Okay, so sometimes, I could read him.

"I just thought that you should know that word has gotten out about her. " He moved his head in the direction of where Emma was slumped over in the front seat, still asleep.

I started to worry that the drugs the doctors gave her to help her sleep were too strong; she shouldn't sleep her life away. “Thank you for the information. I assumed as much," I replied.

"Well, I will leave you alone then," Glasson started backing up. He could probably tell from my mood that I wasn't interested in talking much, and if that were so, our abilities to read each other without our melodies was improving. I wondered what that meant about our relationship. Were we friends? I wanted to laugh; no, we were, indeed, not friends. Our relationship was more master and servant, with him being the master and me being the ungrateful, non-compliant servant.

"Meet me at my place, tomorrow. We need to go over some things. I have news that I can’t discuss at this moment," I demanded.

"I don't know why you assume I’m under your command," he snapped.

Princes, they are all alike , I thought. However, Shad did have a little more patience than Glasson. Still, Shad was in an annoying, irritating league of his own. And then, of course, there was Prince Lamont. He was—well, he was the exception to everything. Maybe he was why I didn’t care for anyone else in the royal lines. I was loyal to Lamont to a fault, it seemed.

"Who found Ashlyn?" I asked, raising my brow in a question, deciding to remind him of how much he owed me.

"Lucky guess, Rykerian—you’re lucky you are from the Dallard family line."

"What does that mean, Glasson?"

“Don’t forget your place.”

“Forgive me, it has been a trying time,” I said, bowing my head, remembering how I needed to act around Glasson, at least sometimes. He was, after all, my original prince. I was born and raised in the kingdom of Torren, and because of that, Glasson did deserve my respect.

Glasson nodded, “I do understand, but remember who you are, and remember our oaths.”

“May my melody never corrupt, may I break no vows, my soul never sing false, and may no heir die before my last breath.” I tried to remain calm as I said the last phrase. I knew I had not kept my Guardian knight oath in the most essential way.

“You honor your family.”

“I don’t care about my family honor, Glasson. I care about Emma, about Lamont and Ara; they were—are my family,” I snapped, so much for being more respectful or not letting on that they were both dead. I didn't have the energy then to have that conversation, a lecture from Glasson about my failure. I just wanted to get Emma inside.

“You are too close. I told you to keep your distance. Were you not trained in such things?”

“Of course, but I love them.” It wasn't against the guardian knight code or oaths to fall in love with our royals, but it was always supposed to be a brotherly or sisterly love, never romantic. Romantic love would usually get in the way of duty.

“You love her . This isn’t how it is supposed to be. I will come by tomorrow, and we will speak then.” He turned and left, seemingly fed up with my company, and I couldn’t blame him. Anyone nearby right then would not have liked being around me. To be fair, I didn't want to be around him either, but that was typical for me.

I watched him walk away, dreading moving Emma from the front seat. I carried her right to her room and tucked her into bed. I wanted to destroy the person who had hurt her, who was responsible for killing her parents and almost killing her. I slumped over the edge of the bed and held back a sob. The previous few nights when I had held her as she laid in her hospital bed, she often woke up screaming—as if someone were torturing her. I couldn't reach her when she was like that, when she couldn't hear me. One of the nurses explained to me that having night terrors was common after such serious trauma, and the best thing I could do for her was to simply be near her and to let her sleep, so I had never left her side. How could I have? I felt the tears fall from my face then as I reflected on the days that had passed, and it stung as if acid were trailing down my flesh, rotting me from the outside in. I knew that she needed me. I knew it because I was her guardian knight, and I would always know what she needed most. She needed me, but more than that, I knew she needed safety. I was sure that whoever had caused the crash had done it on purpose. Who knew when that evil Terran would be back? I had no doubt that Prince Tarick would always attempt to kill off Lamont’s line. I growled and tried to stop the sobs from coming out stronger. I didn't want to wake her.

"Ryker?" Mary's voice whispered through Emma's cracked door, and I saw her bloodshot eyes. How long had I been there? I had not even heard Mary come home. I stood and closed Emma's door, following Mary to the living room.

"Do you know who it was?" she asked as she sat on the couch. We hadn’t talked about it yet, but I had known that the conversation would come.

"No, but my best guess is that it was one of Tarick's men. I wouldn't put it past him to be hell-bent on destroying Lamont's line, even after he has found freedom and peace."

"I can't believe—how could they discover that Lamont escaped the Dungeons of the Mist?" She cut herself off as she let out a sob.

"I’ll figure out who did this, Mary. I swear it." She nodded and continued to cry. I reached for her, her head tucked under my chin. She cried, and I let a few tears fall, too.

"I am so worried about her. Now that she has her melody back, she will be feeling so many different feelings, feelings that she has never felt before."

"Right now, all she feels is horror and pain," I said.

"I know, and her nightmares—How will we all ever heal from this?" Mary looked up at me then; her blue eyes were so full of pain. The blue was almost a shade that could not be found on Earth. If I looked at them long enough, I could imagine that they were the crystal sea off the coast of Torren. But right then, in her eyes, the sea was raging, and waves spilled over their boundaries and dripped down her cheeks. I wanted to gather all of them up and return them to her sea, where they belonged. Mary and I had developed a strong friendship over the years. I cared for her and for her happiness.

"We will, Mary. Emma needs us now more than ever. If Tarick has discovered where we are, he'll stop at nothing to destroy her. We must fight." I held her shoulders as she pulled away, not irritated with me but with the situation. She wiped at the tears staining her cheeks. I moved away from her and walked to the fireplace. I watched for a time as the clock's hands moved. I counted each second that passed, each moment of time, of life moving forward.

"You’re going to leave, aren't you?" Mary looked up at me as I paced in front of the fireplace.

"I can't just sit here and let them find her. I have received some intel that reported having heard talk of her."

"She needs you, now more than ever." Mary sank into the chair closest to the fireplace. She pulled her knees under her chin. She always did that when she was sad or afraid. It was as if not taking up as much space made it easier for her to handle her pain.

"She has you; I'm no use here. I already screwed up enough." The regret, I knew, was thick in my voice. And, I knew—I knew that it was well-founded.

"This wasn't your fault, Rykerian." I knew she would say that. She was always too good, too kind, just like Ara and Lamont.

"Lamont asked me to go with them that night," I said, combing a hand through my hair.

"I know. I told him you had the game. He knew it was important to you, so don't blame yourself."

"You did that? Mary, why did you? If I was there, I could have saved them."

"No, Ryker. You could have prevented the car accident?" I could feel it in her melody—she knew it was an actual possibility. If needed, a guardian knight could do anything, nothing was impossible if the Ancients blessed it. So, I ignored the question.

"I’ll leave after school ends. I'll tell Emma that I am going on a family vacation."

"If you think that she is in danger—"

"I do, and because we can’t shield her soul as completely as Lamont could, we have to keep everyone who could harm her far away from her. Also, I want to find a seeker’s crystal."

Mary nodded. I could see in her eyes that she was beginning to understand.

"I will talk to Prince Glasson tomorrow. He can keep an eye on her while I am gone."

"Prince Glasson?" Mary's eyes grew wide.

"He owes me a favor," I shrugged.

"Okay." It was silent for a few moments, and I tried to steady my breathing as I heard Emma moan from her room.

"I want to kill the person who did this to her."

"It's late. I'll go to her. You can rest on the couch if you want."

"There is too much to do," I said as I walked past her. "I have to get into contact with some people."

"Okay, the funeral is in three days," Mary whispered.

"I won't leave until after that. Are we doing it all the way they do things here, then?"

"It's all Emma knows, Ryker."

"Burying them here seems so wrong."

"No!!" We both heard a scream, and Mary ran to Emma's room. I walked outside into the black night.

I slumped down on the couch, shoving my head between two pillows, forcing the memories to fade away. I was unable to control the swirling of emotions inside of me. Mary had been wrong; going back and thinking things over—it didn't help a single thing.

“Why did I listen to her?” I groaned and turned on the TV, raising the volume to numb the pain, even though I knew it wouldn’t work.