Chapter 8
LYRA
His laugh was immediate. Harsh.
Worse, Terran stood, looking down at our finished meal.
“Come. My father grows impatient for the audience you requested.”
“Terran—”
“There’ll be no more talk of the Stone of Mor’Vallis, if you value your life.”
How could I have thought, despite Kael’s warning, Terran could be turned into an ally?
I poured a cup of tea and took two sips, obeying his hastily given order on my own terms. Pushing it away, I plucked the woven cloth from my lap, folded it neatly and stood.
Speaking to him now would not do. But perhaps the very person he tried to protect could unknowingly convince him to speak to me.
Formulating a plan, I followed Terran through the corridors of a surprisingly pleasant wing of the palace I’d never seen.
Unlike the cavernous and imposing one which I was accustomed to staying in, Terran’s quarters used the stone surrounding us not to intimidate as a background against a warmth that felt personal, coupled with woven rugs, sun-filtered glass, and the soft scent of cedar.
But there was no time to admire my surroundings. Mind racing, I considered every angle. My goals. Terran’s. The king’s. And refused to be intimidated as we walked into my least favorite throne room of all clans.
King Balthor sat upright, imposing as ever. He was alone, thankfully. His right hand, Lord Valdric, was one of the least favorable to me in all of Elydor. Sharing his king’s hatred of humans but with no other reason behind it than personal gain made Balthor’s prejudices pale in comparison.
There were few in Elydor who could intimidate me.
King Balthor was an exception.
Appearing as if he’d been forged from the very stone that surrounded him, the king’s dark hair and green eyes were the only things he had in common with his sons.
His nose was wider, cheeks less defined.
Terran and Kael took much of their appearance from their mother, a noble Gyorian woman renowned for her beauty.
Greeting him in the customary Gyorian way, fist over heart, but with a bow to my head to denote his status, I wasn’t surprised that the king didn’t return the gesture. Not one for pretense, he wouldn’t hide his hatred of me, or my people.
Give grace not because it’s returned but because it’s who you are.
My mother, one of the greatest emissaries in Aetherian history, offered sage advice. Some, like that particular one, were harder to execute than others. Especially when dealing with one such as King Balthor, who had caused much misery and pain for Elydorians these past years.
“You requested an audience. Be quick about it, Lady Lyra. There are few here who welcome an Aetherian in these walls.”
A not-so-thinly veiled threat.
“There have been concerns, my lord, over elemental disturbances that could affect all of Elydor. I serve as an emissary from King Galfrid to open discussions on such matters.”
“Disturbances? I know of no such disturbances.”
While keeping my eyes trained on the king, I felt for any shift in air currents around Terran.
As I suspected, an intake of breath told me what Kael had already said.
Their father kept from both princes that he had hidden the Wind Crystal in the Maelstrom Depths.
Likely Terran also did not know the crystal Balthor “returned” after he stole it to close the portal was a fake.
Exposing him as a liar to his son was my only goal this day.
“You’ve not suspected… anything might be amiss? That Elydor’s magic may perhaps be shifting in some way? Or that the Maelstrom Depths have been acting… strangely?”
Denying it would outright brand him a liar.
The very same celestial event that created our realm imbued it with an energy that gave Elydorians immortality and the ability to wield elemental magic, but that also demanded a balance which had been shifting since the humans came into Elydor from their own realm, and even more so since they were locked out.
But never more had the subtle signs of disturbance been evident than with Mev’s appearance from a “locked” Gate. And of course, the manufactured one Marek’s retrieval of an artifact that belonged in another clan had initiated.
My question angered him, of course.
“Do not play me for a fool. The princess.” He said the word as if it was a slur. “Came through a closed portal. Is that the disturbance you refer to?”
He knew it wasn’t and wielded unspoken words as weapons, just as I did.
“One of many,” I responded, evading him and taking a more direct tactic. “I don’t remember seeing you without your crown before, your liege.”
His nostrils flared. King Balthor wanted me tossed from his throne room, or worse. Would have done so already if he courted full-fledged, open war. Most telling, his eyes darted to his son.
“You play dangerous games, Lady Lyra,” the king said.
Would Balthor let me leave this hall with Terran? I would ensure it.
“Executing me will not serve the same purpose as doing so with Seryn.”
I glanced at Terran, whose eyes widened.
“Your king would do the same, were a Gyorian spy found in your midst.”
It was time to stir the sleeping storm.
“We would not be so reckless as to allow one in Aetheria.”
The ground rumbled beneath my feet. Impressive, as I’d not seen his fingers move.
Drawing a slow breath as this was advanced magic, I focused on the charged space between earth and sky.
With a flick of my wrist and the tightening of will, I thinned the air at my feet, lifting the pressure just enough to still the quake beneath me.
The rumble dissipated, as if exhaling through stone.
Both the king and his son were duly impressed, as they should be. It was a tricky bit of magic my king perfected and shared with us.
“Do you mean to cause a war? Is that why Galfrid sent you here?”
“King Galfrid sent me here to remind you that you’ve already begun this war, though not with soldiers but secrets.
The borders have become so unstable, few will pass.
We are more separated than ever before. Your own son recognizes,” I said quickly, and boldly, knowing he would stop me soon, “Princess Mevlida’s appearance, coming through a closed Gate, means that she belongs here. Just as the humans who—”
“Enough,” he bellowed. His cheeks red, eyes glaring, the king’s fingers flexed. Terran had taken a step toward me, though Zephra and the other Gods alone knew his purpose. “If you wish to leave this hall unharmed—”
I would not be intimidated.
“Your hatred of humans—”
He stood, scowling. “Tell your king, if it’s war he wants, it’s war he shall have.”
“Father—”
“Do not,” he continued to escalate, “interfere in this.”
I didn’t dare look at Terran. Instead, I met the king’s gaze with a calm that seemed to anger Balthor even further, though it was difficult to forget… the king before me was the most powerful in Gyoria. If he wished me dead, my resistance would prove futile.
“King Galfrid wants to avoid war, not court it.”
“By sending his envoy here to convince me the diseased humans were innocent in coming through that interminably damned Gate?”
There will never be peace in Elydor with him as king.
Knowing it, as well as I knew my own name, meant little. As long as Galfrid was alive, he would remain the King of Gyoria.
“Get out of my hall. If you are not beyond our borders by tomorrow—”
How I would secure the stone and fulfill that particular decree remained unsure. But one thing was certain: one of my goals here had been met. I turned, still giving the king the parting gesture he did not deserve, and left the hall with Terran.
He escorted me back the way we came. I said nothing, allowing him to replay the meeting in his mind.
Finally, just as we stepped into the corridor which led to my chamber, he stopped me.
“Lyra.”
Halting, I faced him, revealing nothing.
“Aye, Terran?”
“Gather your belongings. It isn’t safe for you here.”
It was his expression, not his words, that told me I’d been successful. There was more there as well. A softness in his eyes usually lacking from Gyorians. But something else too. Something very, very Gyorian… though typically only for their own.
Even the slightest bit of protectiveness for me was more than I could have hoped for.
“Very well,” I said in acquiescence.
“And wait for me in your chamber. Do not answer the door for any but me.”
At my quizzical look, he added, “We must talk.”
Indeed, we must. But that wasn’t all Terran and I needed to do this day.