5. Lora #2
He’d spent our past few days of travel practicing.
Sun wielding had proved just as difficult for him as moon magic.
Yesterday evening, he’d coaxed and nudged a lantern flame until sweat beaded on his forehead.
After managing a few twitches and flickers, he’d yelped and shook his singed fingers.
I’d offered to heal it, but he’d refused to let me see.
He’d trudged back to the inn and gone to bed.
This morning he’d been himself again, full of questions and wonder, practicing water wielding on the river. Once he even made water leap over the boat’s edge and splash at my feet.
My suspicions of him being a spy from the Sun Kingdom had trickled away with each passing day. He was still an enigma, a puzzle I couldn’t solve, but there was nothing menacing about him.
As I steered us toward a free docking space in the bustling city center, I filled him in on what I knew about the capital and the Queen.
The previous Queen had died a few years back from a rare brain disease that not even the best healers in the Queendom could mend.
Her oldest daughter, Elavara, had been nineteen when she took the throne. She was twenty-four now.
After securing the boat to the dock, we headed down a crowded street.
Grand buildings loomed overhead, gilded windows glittering with wealth, but gaunt figures huddled in their shadows.
The contrast of it left a sour taste in my mouth.
Children swarmed around us, hollow eyes pleading from haggard faces.
Thin fingers plucked at our clothes, their own garments nothing more than scraps.
My chest squeezed as I dug into my coin pouch and pressed a few nuggets into outstretched palms, even as my meager savings dwindled.
“I know it’s bad everywhere,” I muttered, watching a girl no older than eight clutch the coin to her chest. “But how can the Queen allow this, even in her own city?” My jaw clenched. “How can she not do everything in her power to help them?”
“As you said, she’s only twenty-four.” Erion’s voice carried no judgment, only infuriating calm.
“Well, I’m only twenty-one. But if I were Queen, the people would be my first priority.”
“Fair point.” His expression turned thoughtful. “But I imagine ruling the entire Queendom comes with more burdens than we can see.”
“What burdens could be more pressing than people starving?”
Erion only shrugged.
Seething, I rolled my tense shoulders as we continued down the main street. If I could drag myself through the grief of my mother’s death and fight monsters to protect my village, the Queen could certainly do the same for her Queendom.
The palace gates rose before us, wrought iron twisted into crescent moons and stars.
Guards flanked the entrance, their spears crossed.
After a brief exchange, we were waved through into a crowded courtyard where dozens of people huddled in pairs or small groups.
Farmers, merchants, worn travelers—all under the watchful eyes of more guards.
Beneath the slanted roof of a wooden booth, a man leaned over a table stacked with parchments. As we approached, he looked up with the weary expression of someone who’d done this a thousand times. “State your business.”
As I explained that Erion wielded both sun and moon powers, the man’s eyebrows climbed steadily higher until they vanished completely beneath the brim of his sagging hat.
“Ebbs and darkness,” he muttered, scratching a note onto the parchment.
“And here I thought I’d heard every impossible tale this Queendom could invent.
” His gaze slid back to us. “You’re in luck.
The Queen and her council hold court once a week, and today happens to be that day. You’ll just have to wait your turn.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that so many people sought an audience with the Queen that her court had to be organized like this. Some of the people here had likely arrived six days ago, forced to wait nearly an entire week for the chance to be heard.
Erion and I settled onto a stone bench in the shade, the only empty seat available. Candlemarks crept by as one group after another was called inside. The cold stone was a relief at first, but the longer we waited, the more it seeped into my bones.
The sky clouded over, and a light drizzle soon turned into a downpour. Wrapping my arms around myself, I paced back and forth. Stars and sea, what I wouldn’t give to be able to generate heat as well as cold. But heat magic belonged to sun wielders.
I glanced at Erion, wondering if he could conjure enough warmth to take the edge off this dismal wait. But he looked as miserable as I felt. This wasn’t the time to push him.
When our turn finally came, a guard barked our names and jerked her head for us to follow. She led us into the palace, down corridors that stole my breath.
Vaulted ceilings soared overhead, painted with constellations that seemed to shift in the flickering light. Tapestries the size of houses depicted moon wielders calling tides and conjuring shadows. Our boots clicked on floors so polished I could see our reflections.
I barely had time to take it all in with the hurried pace our guard set.
A pair of doors loomed ahead, large enough to drive a cart through. The guard opened one of them and gestured us inside.
The throne room stretched before us. Evening sunlight bled through windows along both walls.
Columns reached into a painted ceiling overhead, depicting ancient battles and legends.
A gentle tinkling filled the air from the stone fountains dotting the room.
None of the stories told by passing travelers had prepared me for the sheer magnificence of it all.
Queen Elavara perched on a throne draped in soft fabric of deepest blue, like twilight reflected on still water. Her silver gown glittered in the sunlight, embroidered with patterns of waves and stars. Brown curls shimmering like gold spilled over her shoulders, framing her delicate face.
Behind a curved table along the right wall, five people formed a semicircle. The council. Their faces were sharp with suspicion or curiosity, eyes tracking our every movement.
My heart hammered in my chest as we crossed the polished floor. Each footstep echoed too loud, like an intrusion on this marvelous room. Beside me, Erion’s breathing came quick and shallow.
“Your Highness,” the guard said behind us. “This man claims to wield both sun and moon magic.”
Murmurs drifted from the council, every eye fixed on Erion.
“Prove it,” an aged woman with thin silver hair demanded, pointing her staff at us. A crescent moon adorned her midnight blue gown. She had to be the Grand Moon Master, responsible for all magical and historical research.
Erion’s hands shook, his eyes darting to me.
I stepped forward. “He’s still adjusting and learning.”
“And who are you?” the old woman demanded.
“I’m Lora, a monster hunter from Rootmere. I found Erion in Blightlands.”
The council members huddled close, whispering to each other.
“Tell us everything,” the Queen said, her voice soft and bright.
I launched into the tale of how I found Erion and decided to escort him to the capital.
“We were hoping some of you might know more,” I finished. “Perhaps there’s records of something similar happening before?”
The Grand Moon Master squirmed in her seat, clutching her staff. “We have nothing like that. I would’ve heard of it.”
The man beside her scratched his bushy brown beard, his brow creasing. “Isn’t this exactly what the prophecy forbids? Mixing moon and sun magic.”
From his black robe dotted with tiny jewels, I couldn’t decide if he was the Treasurer or the High Lord. I scanned the others, matching faces to roles I’d only heard rumors about.
One man had clothes so elaborate they bordered on absurd—a doublet of deep purple silk with sleeves so voluminous they threatened to catch on his neighbor’s chair. He had to be the High Lord, the nobles’ chosen representative in the council.
He gestured animatedly, his sleeves brushing aside a stack of documents on the table. “What if this is the miracle we’ve prayed for? Maybe this man has been sent to seal the rift.”
The General, unmistakable in her combat leather, slammed her fist on the table. “The only way to seal the rift is to eliminate the bastards who caused it. The insufferable Sun Kingdom.”
Several heads nodded, and I could only agree.