4. Keldarion
4
Keldarion
“H ello? Does anyone live here? I need help!”
The voice echoes through the castle. It isn’t possible. It can’t be…
“I got lost and was attacked! I mean no harm. I only need a place to rest.”
No, no, no.
There is an intruder in the castle.
The unfamiliar voice pricks my ears and I smell this invader’s stink even deep within my chambers. It can’t be.
Human.
A human has found his way through the Enchanted Vale and into the Briar. My heart thuds as I look up, trying to see past the tangle of thorns overtaking the ceiling. Castletree must be very weak indeed if the Vale is now so thin as to allow humans…
“Is anyone here?” the voice cries again.
A shudder of rage courses through me, and I shake, my heavy white coat flinging off the frost that has settled during the night. Where are the other princes to deal with this insanity?
Ezryn has left to patrol the Spring Realm, provoking goblins for his own sick joy. Dayton’s probably passed out in a pile of his own sick. And Farron, of course, is… occupied.
That means it’s up to me to deal with this intruder. A snarl sounds deep within my chest. My paws shatter the ice that covers the floor as I stalk toward the door. A human in the castle. It isn’t possible.
I fling open the door with my snout and see Astrid sitting there. She hops back, immediately shrinking down from the rage in my eyes.
“Master, there’s… There’s a human in the castle,” she peeps.
I ignore her, that icy growl rumbling through my chest again. Humans. Idiotic creatures with mayfly lives. Is the Vale truly so weak now?
The thought—this urgent reminder—of the dying magic makes my muscles stiffen with each step. Maybe the end has finally come. Maybe we will be freed from our misery once and for all.
A strangled howl sounds from the dungeon tower. He’s worked up too. This human’s scent will stink up the castle for days.
Whispers and gasps echo as I enter the main causeway. The servants flit around, hiding in door frames and scuttling into different rooms. Are they afraid of the human… or of me?
Ice trails from my paws with each step and I look down, stiffening at my reflection. The hideous, horrific beast stares back at me. With a roar, I scratch the image with my claws. How dare this human force me out of my wing during the night? Why would he brave the Briar and dare come into my castle? To laugh at the beast?
“Hello?” the voice echoes again and now I’m running through the hallways until I skid to a stop on the ramparts, looking down into the great hall.
There he is.
The invader.
He’s a tall man, in his extended years, with brown hair flecked with gray. He carries his weight in his rotund belly, but otherwise looks sturdy enough. Soaked clothing sticks to his skin, and his sack drips water all over my floor.
I always forget how pathetic humans are until I look at them.
I could kill him and be done with it. But Ez wouldn’t like that. He’s got a soft spot for the pathetic things in life.
Maybe that’s why he’s got a soft spot for me.
“A wayward traveler, Master,” a voice says from behind me, and I don’t bother turning to know it’s Marigold. “He looks soaked to the bone. Should I set him up with some tea and a fresh cloak—”
“No,” I snarl. “He’s not to stay. He’s lucky not to die for trespassing.”
Marigold sighs. “Yes, Master.”
I grit my fangs, inhaling the thick air of the castle, heady and moist. Only a stupid human. Nothing more than that. I will deal with it, return to my chambers, and it will be nothing more than a disturbing occurrence. The tree… The damned tree. It will destroy Farron to hear the Vale is so weak—
“I was chased by goblins,” the human cries as he wanders through the great hall. Orange light from the fireplace dances over his skin. “I’m looking for my wife.”
“He’ll die if you send him back out there, Master,” Marigold whispers. “Look at him. Could have been a looker if he weren’t so drenched. Sad little mite.”
“Goblins are a consequence of trespassing in the Briar,” I growl. Sometimes I wish Marigold feared me as the others did. I must deal with this intruder before the servants’ soft hearts and softer heads have them throwing him dinner and a dance.
I take a step back toward the shadows. A few harsh words uttered from the dark will have the short-lived being scurrying back out into the fray. I don’t need to show myself to own dominion of my castle.
As I open my mouth to bellow down to the wretched interloper, he walks toward the fireplace and reaches a hand toward the thick, black thorn bushes that lace through the stone wall and creep over the mantle.
“Fascinating,” he whispers.
I watch with morbid curiosity, saliva dripping down my fangs, as he traces his hands along the spiny branches. Yes, peasant, not even our castle is safe from the Briar. And you will learn soon this is no sanctuary—
“Roses,” he mutters. And he sees them, tucked within the brambles. Some of the last blooming remains of Castletree. The few resilient survivors who would not be so easily smothered by thorn and root. The last symbols of hope that our home may yet withstand a little longer. That there may be hope for the cursed souls who reside here.
“A rose,” the human says again and reaches his hands into the brambles. “A rose for my Rose. I promised her, after all.”
My pupils dilate as the scene plays out before me: this human daring to take a piece of the last life of our hallowed tree. He plucks the rose from its stem and delicately pulls it back through the brambles. Then he steps into the light of the fire and admires it. A blood-red bloom.
“Oh dear,” Marigold whispers.
All the mercy and curiosity drain out of me. He… He stole it. He took life from Castletree.
I had wanted to offer forgiveness. I had wanted to show humanity. But he lost that right when he stole from the House of the Queen. Now, the man within me lets loose the reins of control and frees the beast.
With a snarl, I leap over the side of the railing, landing with a boom in the shadows of the great hall. The man jumps, the rose falling from his grasp. “Who goes there?”
I prowl to the other side, staying deep within the shadows. He blanches, trying to track my movements in the dark.
“I am the master of this castle,” I rumble, “and you are a trespasser and a thief. Do you know the punishment for thieves in the Enchanted Vale?”
The man blinks, and some of the fear dissipates from his expression. “I’m here. I made it. Please help me. I’m looking for my wife—”
“Help you?” My voice bellows like the depths of an icy chasm. “How dare a criminal ask for help? You have wandered into magic beyond your comprehension. Leave now, and be grateful you return with your life, however short it may be.”
But the human falls to his knees. “Please, sir. The rose was but a humble gift for my daughter. I’ve been searching for this realm for twenty-five years. My wife is here somewhere and—”
There is a part of me, deep within, that respects the courage of this pitiful human. But it is clear he has no idea what he has done. He does not understand the true meaning of fear.
And so, with slow, deliberate steps, I walk into the light.
The man falls backwards, eyes wide and glassy, mouth cast in a horrified O. He scrambles away but I descend faster, lurching toward him, pinning him on both sides with my massive paws. Baring my fangs, I am about to roar for him to leave when a light catches my gaze. A crystallized rose made of moonstone hangs from a chain around his neck, the intricate metalwork glittering in the firelight.
I pull back. Stare at the human.
And with twenty-five years’ worth of wrath and suffering, I straighten to my full height and say, “You want to stay in the Enchanted Vale? Then stay you shall.”
I snatch his coat in my jaws and haul him up the stairs. To the dungeon.