Chapter 2 #2
I finished my training at the Mage Academy years ago and assumed His Majesty would grant me a Task just like all the other graduates.
But while everyone else was granted theirs, I was denied the chance to prove myself and instead sent off on missions for the crown.
I continue to hone my skills—focusing on healing magic and various research subjects—while I wait.
Now His Majesty has finally deemed me worthy of a Task?
What has changed? I’m twenty-eight now and have resigned myself to being His Majesty’s lapdog before my true fate is sealed.
Throwing my head back, I grind my teeth and force myself from growling my frustrations. Of course, not everyone who receives the king’s Task achieves Grand Mage. Some die, some fail miserably, some give up before they finish.
I urge my horse next to Damon’s. Lavish gardens rise around us until we’re in a tunnel of greenery.
Glow stones attached to the twisted vines provide the light we need.
A fountain gurgles somewhere, but I can’t see it beyond the green walls.
The tunnel is short, and soon we’re in another garden.
I always feel disoriented going through the tunnel, but that’s the point.
If someone has ill intent, it would strip them of magic and hold them until the guard can come.
I can’t stand the silence from Damon any longer. “How is His Majesty today?” His Majesty swings wildly from being calm to having a servant beheaded for tripping in the dining hall. That had been a horrific day.
“He’s in a good mood today, as far as I can tell.”
I let out a breath. His Majesty in good spirits is the best I could hope for. “What do you think my Task is?”
“I don’t know. It’ll be well suited to you, though; the king always calibrates the Tasks to test the pupil’s strengths and weaknesses equally.”
“He really told you nothing?” Leaving the gardens, the palace seems to laugh at me, the overly polished walls telling me I’m not good enough to be inside.
“I didn’t ask.” Damon shrugs. “At least it’ll give you a break from the missions you hate so much. I, on the other hand, don’t mind them.”
“They’re usually pointless other than to keep me busy. Look at the apple orchard in Vond. Go investigate crickets in Sokat. There’s been an unusual sighting in Trabda. I’d rather spend my time—”
“At a brothel.”
“With books, Damon. Books. I negotiated with the pixies of Mavunn to research pixie dust, and I had to end the agreement because His Majesty sent me to the other side of the country before we could even start. Pixie dust, Damon. We know so little about it and how we could use it. Now I won’t have the chance to try again.
Besides, when I get a reprieve and am allowed to stay home for a day or two, I’m too exhausted to think. ”
I scrub a hand down my face. I smell horrible. I should have hired a bath at the brothel, but chose to read and relax instead. Sighing, I continue. “I would like nothing more than to get back into my research on merfolk, but—”
“Still? After all this time?”
“Absolutely. One day, I’ll find one and ask them everything. The journal I was reading was by merfolk. Can you imagine? That’s so rare.”
Damon’s smile is genuinely wide this time. “Maybe you’ll get to research your beloved merfolk soon.”
“I wouldn’t say beloved. More fascinated by.”
“If you say so.” Damon stops his horse.
We’re at the gilded front door now. A servant takes the reins, and Damon slides gracefully from his beast, dropping with a hard thud to the paved stone.
I dismount my horse and swipe my hands down my thighs, trying to smooth the wrinkles.
I really need a wash. But I retrieve my mer journal from the saddlebag and hope for the best.
“You’re the worst informant, you know,” I say.
“Good thing I’m a bodyguard, then.” Damon waves me in front of him.
I stomp into the palace through the huge gilded doors, barely taking in the tapestries that line the hallway. Standing candelabras and glow stones light the space.
Damon keeps pace with me, though his steps are gentler on the polished marble. I ignore the pedestals with vases, or busts of other rulers. I ignore the suits of armor, displayed swords, and the glittering jewels embedded in the walls. One thing consumes me, and that’s getting my Task.
Before long, an archway opens into the extravagant throne room. More glow stones and candelabras illuminate the way, even though the glass roof lets in the moonlight, spotlighting His Majesty.
Why has His Majesty waited until so late to send for me? This could have waited until morning, though now I know I have a Task ahead of me that I’m eager to start.
The king lounges on the massive gold-sheen obsidian throne, tapping long fingers on the silk cushioned arm.
The same features of the king reflect back at me in the mirror when I bother to examine myself.
Our silver horns, for one. They start above my ear and gently loop down and around, much like ram horns.
His Majesty’s are significantly larger with age, painted gold.
Then there are our eyes, silver like the color of our dragon, though I have a touch of violet thanks to my mother.
We share the same strong jawline and wavy dark hair, though I keep mine short compared to the long locks His Majesty wears. There’s no doubt I am my father’s son.
His Majesty frowns upon seeing my disheveled look. “You know I like a tidy court. Skies, what is that smell?” He holds a hand to his nose.
“I was—”
His Majesty holds up a hand. “I have no desire to know what pig-stye of a place Damon found you in.”
Damon chuckles next to me. “It wasn’t so bad.”
I shift on my feet, unsure how to proceed. I’ve never had a back-and-forth relationship with my father. The king is always so inaccessible.
“I’ll get right to the point.” His Majesty smiles, showing perfect white teeth. “For your Task, you’re to bring me the phoenix stone.”
I blink back at His Majesty, sure I haven’t heard correctly. I take a half step closer to the throne. “What?”
His Majesty shrugs, something I’ve never seen the man do all my life.
“You heard me. Bring me the phoenix stone, and you’ll get your Grand Mage status.” He raises his hand, pulling the tasseled rope just above his shoulder.
Has the king gone truly mad? I’m stunned into silence.
The phoenix stone. Created hundreds of years ago by a crazed mage.
Or so the rumors went. Everyone knows where the stone is—sunk into the ocean—but no one can retrieve it.
There has always been an impenetrable barrier.
Rumors, of course. I’ve actually been to the site of the stone in my youth.
My mother took me and my brothers to experience the vortex of power it created and tell us tales of hubris.
No one knows the exact extent of the phoenix stone’s power. The necromancers would have everyone believe the stone can defy death and bring loved ones back to life. Others say it takes away the cost of magic. I’m not sure what to believe. I just know I have to have it to get what I want.
A human servant comes out from a side door I always forget is there. Draped in a sheer silver dress, her breasts are in full view. She hurries over with a goblet and bottle of wine, offering it to the king.
“Be sure to bring me the stone before your wedding to Princess Ailey.”
My heart drops to my feet. One month. That’s not enough time. “It’ll take at least a week there and back. And that’s not to mention the time it’ll take to gather a crew and—”
My heart stops. How will I retrieve the stone?
I can only think of one way. Merfolk. Dragons can’t breathe underwater, and neither can any other shifter type I know of.
None other than merfolk. “Is this a cruel joke? Give me a Task with an impossibly short timeframe and the need for something I’ve never been able to find to watch me fail? ”
“No. It’s a test of your true abilities. How resourceful are you now that you have to be?” His Majesty sips from the goblet before handing it back to the servant with a grimace and waving her off. “Too sweet.”
I pace the floor. How can I pull this off?
“Do what you see fit to finish your Task, but don’t neglect your bride-to-be. Princess Ailey will be here in three days.”
I open my mouth to ask why she’s arriving early, but the realm of Avondra works differently than Lane.
In Avondra, they want to know their spouses.
The dragons of Lane, on the other hand, only care about who will bear the next batch of heirs.
I’m not sure my legacy lies in continuing the family line with Princess Ailey.
What I want is to leave behind books of research.
“You’re dismissed,” His Majesty says, waving his hand at me.
Heat throbs through my body, threatening to shift me right here in the throne room. “Why have you made me wait for this? Seven fucking years. And why do you need the phoenix stone to begin with?”
His Majesty straightens on the throne. “How dare you speak to me in such a manner? And to question the Task?” He smooths his hands over his thighs.
“Perhaps I should revoke your Mage status and send you to Avondra instead of Ailey coming here.” He looks me up and down.
“Without the phoenix stone, you’re useless to me in Lane. ”
I burn with anger. He knows exactly how to manipulate me. “You’ll get your stone,” I grind out. I have to prove to His Majesty that I’m just as worthy as my brothers.