Chapter 14
D ash woke up just before dawn to the sweetest moment of his life. His body was nestled against soft furs and entwined with the luscious limbs of his dragon.
Every inch of Tanis’s body lay against his. Her warm breath fell against his chest as her hair tickled the flesh of his arm. Closing his eyes again, he savored this one perfect moment of being with her.
He’d never known peace like this. All these years past, he’d fought to protect Renata because that had been the only thing he’d known.
His sister and people were his responsibility. Keep them safe no matter the cost.
He’d never thought that he could have anything for himself. Why should he?
No one could be trusted. Most were users. Others were incompetent. The rest just disappointed him.
Even his sister.
As much as he’d loved her, Renata had fought him every step of the way. Hoof and tooth.
Stop trying to control me, Dash!
But it had never been about control. Only fear. Because he’d seen the horror this world had to offer, he’d only wanted to protect her from it.
Now he had someone else he wanted to keep safe. Someone like him who knew the horrors that lurked in the shadows.
Opening his eyes, he toyed with the ring on her finger that Ambrose had given them. And he remembered how hard it’d been to build his kingdom the first time.
All the rebellions he’d been forced to quell. The enemies he’d had to defeat, who’d come after him in droves. Assassins. Traitors who’d buried so many daggers in his back that Halla had joked she should rename him Stegosaurus.
Only it hadn’t been a joking matter.
Hard lessons learned. Everyone had been intent on laying him in a gutter and standing on his grave. Yet he had risen in spite of them all.
He still didn’t know how.
Or even why. A part of it had been just sheer stubbornness. A need to prove himself to his father even after his father was dead. To prove that he wasn’t as worthless as they’d all said. That he could do better. Be better.
And he had.
But did he have it in him to do it all again?
He wasn’t sure. Because he knew exactly what it’d taken to build it before. Back when he was young and stupid. Back when he had the youth and energy for it. When he was blind to just how much it would cost his soul to do what had to be done.
Now...
He was tired. Sickened by what he’d seen. Worn down by the blows and battles.
If you give up, what will become of the Tanises in this world?
Someone else would rise up in his stead. They always did.
Yes, but would they be a protector?
Or a predator?
The eternal question.
And he knew the truth. Others were innately selfish and cruel. Even if they meant well, would another be able to endure the hell he’d traversed for the sake of someone else? How long would it take them before they gave in to the stress and quit?
Or before they were defeated by another?
That was if the eternal conflict didn’t turn them violent. It was hard not to give in to it. Not to have the soul turn as black as his horn.
That fa?ade was the only real question. Power was hard to deal with. Not so much that it corrupted the one wielding it, but the fact that everyone surrounding you wanted a piece of it.
Wanted a piece of your very soul, and they salivated to take it from you.
But would it matter if he failed? It wasn’t all up to him. There was a lot he couldn’t control. If someone cast that spell, they could kill him. He wouldn’t be here to stop anything.
And that was what really scared him.
He pressed his cheek against Tanis’s head. I will protect you. To my dying breath.
Using his powers, he carefully removed himself from beneath her without waking her from her sleep and dressed. He went to the cold stream and bathed before seeking Marthen.
He didn’t go far before a stalk of grass rose up to block his path. That wasn’t the strange part. The fact that the grass had long eyelashes and yellow eyes was the peculiar aspect of it. It blinked at him. “Don’t wake the wizard, King. He doesn’t like that.”
Dash looked about but saw no sign of the wizard’s body. “Is there a way for me to have a word with him while he sleeps?” While that might seem like an odd request to most, it wasn’t when dealing with Marthen. The wizard’s consciousness often roamed around outside his body while he slumbered.
Swaying in the early morning breeze, the stalk considered his request. “Wisp?”
A tiny will o’ the wisp flew near them at the call. “Yes?”
“Where’s the wizard’s consciousness? Is it on the bank of the creek?”
“Was. Shall I look?”
“Yes. Please.”
The wisp floated away into the darkness.
“If you’ll wait a moment, Majesty. We’ll check and see if he feels up to a consultation.”
Most would find that strange, but Marthen wasn’t like a normal anything. Especially given the fact that Marthen was sired by a yokai. That gave him all kinds of unique abilities. He easily traversed the land of dreams and could leave his physical body behind whenever he needed to.
To this day, Dash remembered the first time he’d met Marthen. It’d been on the night after one of his nastier punishments at the hands of Meara’s goons. He’d been lying mired in mud, staring up at the moon, wishing himself dead from the pain when he heard a faint gasp, followed by an annoying question. “Aren’t you a little young for a red horn?”
Dash had sighed wearily at something he’d answered more times than he’d cared to. “I was born with one.”
“Impossible.”
Even though he trembled from the pain, Dash had forced himself to stand and confront the source of his irritation.
To his surprise, it wasn’t a centaur.
At that time, he’d mistaken Marthen for some human servant. Meara’s court was full of them. “According to what I’ve been told, I’ve been angry since the moment I kicked my way from my mother’s womb and my hooves hit the ground.”
“Then you must be Prince Dash.”
He’d held his head high. “I am.”
Marthen had approached him slowly. “I was there at your birth, young prince. Your horn was white at the time. I saw it firsthand.”
Then, the old wizard had reached through the pen to place a kind hand to his forehead, just below his red horn.
Dash had gasped as his pain subsided. It felt like Marthen was pulling it out through his hand.
With a tender smile, he’d ruffled his mane. “Tell me, prince... what do you want to do with all this pent - up rage you have inside you?”
“I don’t understand your question.”
“If you were made king today, what would you do? Would you kill Queen Meara? Take a piss? Roll in your gold? Name me three things you’d do.”
Dash had scowled at the old man. “Just three?”
“Yes.”
He’d considered that for only a second. “First thing I’d do is take a bath.”
Marthen had actually laughed. “Good answer. What’s the next thing you’d do?”
There had been a lot of things he’d wanted, including kill Meara. But if he was limited to only three... “I would free the others who are being held with me and take them home.”
“And your third... if you had all the power of a king?”
“It’s selfish.”
“How selfish?”
“I would have a necromancer or lich bring my sister’s mother back from the dead.”
That seemed to catch the old man off-guard. “Why?”
“Because I don’t know how to take care of her like her mother did. No one does. It hurts whenever I hear her crying because I know I can’t fix it.”
Marthen had fisted his hand in Dash’s mane. “All the power in the kingdom and that’s the most selfish thing you want?”
It was. Although, at that moment, there had been one other thing Dash had been near desperate for. “Dinner would be nice. But I’d rather Renata not cry.” Even if he did hate her mother who’d never had a kind word for him.
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
Marthen had pulled an apple from the bag he carried and held it out to him.
Nothing had ever tasted better than that apple. And Marthen had never really disclosed why he’d ventured there that night, nor why he’d returned after their first meeting.
Though Dash had often wondered if he’d been sent there by Dash’s mother to check up on him.
Whatever the reason, the old wizard had returned night after night to teach Dash how to use and develop his magick. Schooled him on philosophy, war strategy and politics.
To this day, he was grateful to Marthen for teaching him during the wee hours of the night while others slept. It’d been the only thing that had kept him sane.
As weird as it sounded, that had been the most “normal” part of his captivity. The only time when he’d been treated as anything other than a caged, mindless animal. Honestly, Marthen had been more of a father to him than the unicorn who’d thoughtlessly sired him.
To this day, Dash had no idea why his mother had him delivered to his father within hours of his birth. Other than his mother had wanted a tie to the Licordian throne.
A fact his father had reminded him of constantly. Not even your own mother wanted anything to do with you, you worthless by-blow. I should never have allowed you to live. You’re a blight on my blood and heritage.
It was also something Renata’s mother had held against him every hour of his life until her death. Don’t touch me! You’re no son of mine! You’re disgusting! I wish you’d died at birth!
How sad that when his father had first told him he was going to Meara’s court as a hostage, he’d been delighted by the prospect. Stupid and young, Dash had thought his life there would be infinitely better than his treatment at his father’s palace.
The gods had a sick sense of humor.
As bad as his childhood in Licordia had been, it’d paled in comparison to the cruelty he’d learned under Meara’s merciless hooves.
Looking back on it now, Dash suspected the reason Marthen had trained him had something to do with another riddle the old wizard had once posed to him and with another fact he’d learned from Meara.
Those who seek me for their own pleasure are far more likely to inflict pain in my name. Who am I?
Ironically, it’d been the one thing Dash had been born into and never wanted or sought.
Power.
While he was known for his cruelty, he didn’t revel in it the way Meara did.
And right now, he would gladly surrender his mantel of authority if he could find another who would rule justly.
After a few minutes, the wisp returned. “He’ll speak with you, Majesty. Please follow me.”
Dash conjured himself a woolen cloak as he realized just how cold the temperature was here.
He followed the glowing wisp through the trees until they came to a whispering creek that flowed backwards toward the snow-capped mountains.
Marthen wasn’t alone. There was a woman walking with him. One in a gown of pale yellow, shimmering samite. Her white hair didn’t come from old age. She was young and exceptionally beautiful, with light blue skin that glimmered in the low light. It’d been a while since he’d last seen a nereid. They normally kept to the seas in Dash’s kingdom.
He’d forgotten that in Alarium, they also lived in smaller bodies of water.
“Rivana... meet Dash.”
He bowed before her. “Pleasure, my lady.”
“And you, Your Majesty.” She turned toward Marthen. “I’ll speak with you again soon.” With a kind smile, she stepped over to the water and quickly swam away.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
Marthen shrugged. “It’s fine. We speak often, she and I. Usually when I’m sleeping.”
“Should I ask?”
“Probably not.”
Dash laughed at Marthen’s way of telling him she was none of his business. Fine, he’d respect the wizard’s privacy.
And as he started to change the subject, the woods around them lit up as if they were on fire. Yet they weren’t burning. Only fey light shined brightly like this. And usually only when an elfin army was on the march.
Dash immediately turned into his unicorn form and suited up in full battle armor, ready to fight whatever was coming for him.
Marthen cursed.
Obviously, the elves had learned he was here. The question was, which clan? The Drakalf, Myrkalf, or Nagalf?
Drakalfs were the most barbaric of the three. Cannibal elves, they had once hunted their brethren for food, believing that if they consumed their enemies, they would inherit their powers and wisdom. As a rule, they tended to be a bit shorter and much leaner than the Myrkalfs or Nagalfs.
Even though they had stopped preying on other elves as their primary food source, their brethren still didn’t trust them. And Dash couldn’t blame them for it. He wouldn’t want to sit down at dinner with someone who might be serving him up elf stew, either.
Rumors still abounded that some of them continued the rituals of their ancestors. He knew from experience that old habits were a little hard to break.
The Myrkalfs were farmers and tricksters. They were the ones who liked to make deals with humans and other species that usually backfired on the ones dumb enough to barter with them. They also traded out their errant children with well-behaving youngsters of other species so that they could use them for farm work or experiment on them.
They were never to be trusted.
Nagalfs were the aristocrats who ruled over all the clans. Warriors, nobles, diplomats and priests, they were sadly the ones he’d pissed off the most in the past.
He really hoped the Nagalfs weren’t the ones approaching as they were less likely to be friendly with his intrusion into their territory. Indeed, they’d happily hand him over to Meara and were probably one of the seven kingdoms willing to pay the bounty for his head.
As the small army came closer and he was able to identify them, he cursed.
They had representatives from all three groups. Each one wore the distinct armor and styles that designated their individual clans.
Beautiful . They meant business and he was sure that they were out to skin a unicorn.
He glanced to Marthen. “You awake yet?”
“Thinking I should sleep this one out.”
Fine time for the wizard to turn craven. “Thanks.”
“Any time, my king.”
Dressed in green armor that glimmered in the dawning sun, the king of the Nagalfs approached Marthen with a look of censure. “He’s not your king, Marthen. I am.”
“Not true, Lord Baldur. He’s everyone’s king.”
The sneer on Baldur’s handsome face let Dash know he didn’t appreciate the reminder or being referred to as a mere lord. Though Baldur wasn’t as tall as Dash was in human form, he was still no slacker in height.
His pale blond hair that he wore braided down his back made him appear almost ghostly. But not nearly as much as those sharp, angular features. Baldur glanced around at the others, then gave Dash a dry, meaningful stare.“I see you’re not bearing any gifts for me this time. Guess I should count my blessings you didn’t swing by the sacred grove on your way in.”
Dash was really grateful he’d switched forms. Otherwise, he’d be hard-pressed to counsel his facial expression. Or keep from smiling snidely. “Should I conjure an olive branch?” He sprouted one from his horn.
Unamused, Baldur blinked slowly.
Marthen, on the other hand, laughed out loud.
“Oh, lighten up, Baldur, that’s funny.” Hinrik, the leader of the Myrkalfs, slapped Baldur on the back, then stepped around him to approach Dash. His armor was brown, like his hair and darker features. A few inches shorter than Baldur, Hinrik was known for being a tad light-hearted for most things.
The Drakalf leader, Tova, ignored Baldur and followed Hinrik as he approached Dash. She carried her engraved bronze axe over her shoulder which made Dash a bit nervous, especially given the way she eyed him.
Until she stopped in front of him and smiled brightly.
Her brown hair was worn in intricate braids to show off her ornate, pointed ear covers. She’d laced her red leather armor tight to accentuate her curves and was famous for the spiked heels of her boots that she was known for driving into the eyes of her enemies before she killed them.
“A million sovereign bounty, King Deciel...” She tsked. “Makes me axe, Radgar, ache to taste unicorn blood. If only I knew who would pay that for your sorry arse, Majesty.”
Dash sucked his breath in between his teeth. “According to the wanted poster, seven of my kingdoms. I assumed Alarium was one of them.”
Hinrik snorted before he looked at Baldur. “Is that what you’re wasting our taxes on? Trying to break our contract with the High King?”
Baldur looked offended at the thought. “Hardly. I get enough attitude from the lot of you already for the necessary expenditures I make. As if I could ever get the lot of you to agree to pay it for the head of a measly unicorn.” He jerked his chin at Dash. “Especially one as worthless as he is.”
Hinrik stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Centaurs might pay it. Think we should send a missive to Queen Bitchitis? See if she’s the one offering that payout? I’ve heard she hates him for some particular reason no one can name.”
Tova nodded slowly as if she were considering it. “We could definitely use the money to reseed the mother tree some thoughtless unicorn bastard cut down.”
Hinrik looked over to Baldur. “I could use a summer palace in my lands. Something facing the north. Pretty picture windows facing the portal...”
Totally confused by their odd discussion, Dash scowled. While they seemed serious, they didn’t. Not really. He just wasn’t sure. “Are we fighting?” Because it didn’t quite seem like they were.
His expression cold and calculating, Baldur closed the distance between them. He stepped between the other two elfin rulers to face off in front of Dash.
“Step away from the High King.”
Dash looked past the elves to see his beautiful dragon entering the fray. Dressed in nothing more than her hunter’s leather, she held her sword, ready to go to war to protect him.
She was outnumbered in the middle of his enemies. No magick. No way to do anything more than bleed on their elfin army while he escaped.
Yet she was offering herself up as a sacrifice.
Nothing had ever touched him more. But really, he wanted to curse her for it.
Baldur turned back to face him with an arch stare. “She with you?”
“She is.” Clearing his throat, Dash slid past them to approach her. He changed back into a human body so that he could place his hand on hers and lower her sword before one of the archers around them decided to get frisky with an arrow and earn hero points with their own king or queen.
Tanis stared at him with an earnestness that was as touching as it was foolish. “I won’t let them take you, Dash.”
He smiled tenderly. “Appreciate that, love. We can talk about this later.”
Tova scowled at them. “Who’s the woman?”
A thousand possible lies went through his head. But the truth was the one that would give her the greatest protection. While they might hate him and would probably kill him before this was over, Tanis wasn’t their enemy.
And neither was her father.
“Princess Tanis Dragomir of Indara.”
That took the piss out of all three of them. Until fury darkened Baldur’s eyes. “You turned her human? What did they do to you?”
He rushed toward Dash as if he intended to beat him on behalf of Tanis’s father.
Tanis cut him off and once more angled the sword at him. “You never approach your king in anger.”
Shock stopped Baldur dead in his tracks. Instantly, he held his hands up.
Dash reached around her again and gently pushed her arm and the sword toward the ground. “Really, love, you must stop threatening the elfin king in his own territory. I’m sure his soldiers are taking issue with it.”
“They should take greater issue with their High King being threatened and defend you .” Tanis looked around at the gathered elves. Then she glared at Baldur. “Is that not the treaty you made? It’s the one my father holds. The Thirteen Kingdoms owe fealty to their High King to defend him. Soldiers for his command in time of need. If any kingdom or ruler rises to threaten his life or command, the others are to defend his reign, his life, and secure his power. Is this not the oath you signed?”
She had a point. That was the bargain.
Tova and Hinrik laughed. Baldur seethed.
“Hell of a defender you’ve found there, Sire.” Tova approached them more respectfully. She inclined her head to Tanis. “I’m Princess Tova of the Drakalf.”
Tanis’s eyes widened. “You lead the cannibal elves?”
Dash cringed at Tanis’s bold question.
Thankfully, Tova wasn’t insulted. Again, she laughed. “We only eat the bad ones. And then, only to make a point. It tends to keep everyone else on their toes. You should try it sometime. They tell me dragon meat is quite healthy, and elfin meat is low in calories and good for your heart.”
Marthen burst out laughing. “I should write down recipes for an exchange.”
Dash shook his head. “Please don’t encourage this.”
Tanis looked at them and then to Dash. “They weren’t trying to kill you?”
“To be honest, I’m not real sure what was going on when you arrived.”
Baldur rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip. “I wanted to kill you, Majesty. Make no mistake about that. When word reached me yesterday that you’d left your lands, and someone was offering to pay handsomely for your head... I considered sending my best after you to collect that bounty.”
Tova smirked. “Until I reminded our king why he still sits on his high and mighty throne unchallenged because of your reign.”
Baldur ignored her. “You don’t play favorites, Sire. You could have demanded my son’s life for his actions, and you didn’t. You could have even demanded my own head when I refused to hand him over to you for punishment. Another king might have used my heir’s actions as an excuse to remove my lineage from power. While I’m still angry about what you did to the Mother Tree, you made a valid point with no bloodshed.” He looked at the other two leaders. “We’ve enjoyed these years of peace and have prospered greatly. Alarium has no desire to return to chaos.”
Hinrik nodded in agreement. “As the princess said, we’re here to uphold our oaths. Tell us what you need, and we’ll provide it.”
Dash was stunned. Honestly, he’d expected them to side against him.
Tanis smiled.
Tova held her free hand up and waved. Two elves came forward from the army surrounding them. It wasn’t until they were close, that Dash saw they looked similar enough to be siblings.
One male. One female. Both were dressed in red Drakalf armor.
Tova smiled proudly. “Me son and daughter. Tora and Viggo. Two of me finest warriors. It’s me honor to offer them to be your personal guard until you’re safely back on your throne in Licordia.”
“Tora and Viggo,” he repeated. Thunder and lightning. He had to bite his tongue to keep from commenting on the naming choice.
Making an uncomfortable face, Hinrik scratched at his ear. “They are aptly named, Sire.”
“How so?”
“Viggo moves silently and fast. By the time he’s struck, his target’s dead. Tora... when you hear her battle cry, your head’s already severed.”
“Then I’d be honored to have their protection. Thank you, Tova.”
She inclined her head to him.
Tanis arched a brow. “We’re not having to fight anyone?”
“Apparently not,” he whispered to her. “A new experience for me, too.”
She sheathed her sword. “I could have slept longer? What do you elves have against sleep?”
Tova laughed. “Come. Me fortress isn’t far. Let’s get some food. A bed for the princess and we can discuss how best to deal with this situation.”
As the others went to their horses, Dash returned to unicorn form and manifested a saddle on his back for Tanis. He thought nothing of it until she pulled herself up and the others took notice.
Utter silence filled the air.
Shit.
Marthen’s spirit drifted over to him. “You might want to think of something to tell them,” he whispered.
The problem was that Dash had no idea how to explain their relationship to anyone. Not even to himself.
You’re High King.
He didn’t have to explain anything. That was the only advantage of his position. Fuck them.
Let them speculate.
Holding his head high, he headed for Tova’s keep and did his best to ignore their curiosity.
Tanis noticed that Dash traveled behind the others. “You don’t trust them, do you?”
“Do you?”
She thought about it. “I want to.”
“But?”
“I probably have the same issues you do. I’m cautious of anyone wanting to help, especially those who have a reason not to, and given the amount of money being offered for your head... why would they help? Doesn’t feel right, does it?”
“Right?” he asked. “I hate being so jaded all the time. But my life has taught me that when given the opportunity to stab someone, even a friend, most will take it.”
She reached down and patted him on the neck, agreeing completely. She’d witnessed the same thing.
Dash savored that comfort. It was nice to have someone who understood him. His sister had always chided him for his mistrust. You’re so judgmental! Must you always see evil in everyone, Dash? Give them a chance and they might surprise you.
While Renata had always made him feel terrible for being so wary, Tanis made him feel normal. But then, she knew the same world he did. Not the safe one Renata had been sheltered in.
“Sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up,” he said to her.
“It’s fine. I’m glad you weren’t under attack or dead. But I have to admit, beast, I was a bit scared when I found you in what was an awful situation, from my vantage point.”
He smiled at the memory. “Yet you ran to my defense even though you were terribly outnumbered. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Dash paused and turned his head so that he could look back at her. “Seriously, Tanis. Thank you. It was reckless and suicidal. And a part of me would like to beat you for it. But I’m truly grateful that you were reckless and suicidal.”
She leaned forward in the saddle to hug him. “Again, you’re most welcome. Just next time, pick better odds for us.”
He laughed and started forward. “I’ll do my best.”
Us . Dash didn’t comment on that one word even though it rang out inside him. He’d never really been an us before. It felt...
Terrifying.
But good. She had no reason to stand at his back. Yet she hadn’t hesitated.
No female had ever done that for him. All he could remember were the times when he’d been flung into an arena, alone, and left to battle on his own.
Prove your worth!
No matter how much he’d won, he’d still felt worthless. Undeserving. That had been the rage that had turned his horn red when he’d been far too young to remember it.
And that was the thing about horns, they could change color at any time. For any reason. To a unicorn, it reeked to have your soul on display for the entire world to see.
Or at least those who knew what the colors meant.
White were the ones who were untainted and pure. Those untouched by the cruelty of life. His sister’s had been white for most of hers.
Purple horns belonged to their priests and counselors. Those who’d developed a deep intuition or spirituality. Yellow horns belonged to unicorns who were driven and creative. They were the risk-takers and artisans of all kinds. Green held the stronger magick abilities—the healers and wizards. Blue horns emerged for those with diplomatic traits. Those who didn’t like conflict and who were slow to anger. The ones best able to think through complicated matters. His general, Kronnel, was a blue horn.
Sometimes those blue horns would turn silver if the bearer developed a greater level of wisdom or showed exceptional leadership qualities, such as his father’s. Although, silver could also manifest from other colors, too. It just wasn’t as common for silver to manifest from another source, but it did happen.
Orange horns were natural teachers. They were the ones who encouraged others and helped whenever they could. Then the red which was the normal color for most adolescents and a large number of their soldiers. Many of the unicorns outgrew their red horns. But acts of violence or trauma could turn any color to red at any time.
Then, there was the exceedingly rare gold horns that only Renata had managed to attain. It came from possessing a pure heart that was willing to sacrifice oneself for another. The one thing about his sister that had driven him to utter madness.
Her innocence. Her inability to see danger. Or any kind of ulterior motives in someone else. He was always suspicious, but never her.
She would defend anyone. Even Keryna.
He’d envied his sister the luxury of her horn. Of being able to trust like that.
While his horn was technically one of protection, it came at a dire cost. It let other unicorns know that he had no restraint when it came to protecting those around him. He was capable of anything.
That was why a black horn was so feared.
There was only one other color that gave unicorns almost as much pause. A gray horn. Not because they were more powerful. Far from it.
Gray horns were the ones who were indecisive and unsure. Tricksters. Dubious, and usually troublemakers.
Keryna.
A dangerous thing to befriend a gold horn who would never believe they were capable of deceit because a gold horn would only see their insecurity and indecisiveness. Never their treachery.
You always see conspiracy, Dash. You have to stop that.
And he was still seeing it. He just couldn’t quite believe the elves were helping him because they wanted peace.
Horned or not, he intended to keep his eyes open and watch them closely.