Everealm: Book One of the Everealm Series Read online

  “I think he likes me,” she giggled. “Bye Dragon,” she said, then turned around and ran back into the castle. Rowan stood and stared after her. Bree had been watching him, unsure if she should approach him. She turned to her mother and Sidonie and excused herself, stepping away from them, however when she turned back to where Rowan had been standing, he was gone.

  ~*~

  Dagan had left the others just a few moments after arriving, deciding against waiting around for introductions. He wanted to find his grandfather and took a right turn in the main hall, heading toward the wizard tower. He remembered where it was, and though the castle had changed quite a bit in the twenty years he had been away, the basic layout of the hallways were the same. When he reached a large wooden door, he stopped to take a breath. He hadn’t seen his grandfather in five years, and their parting hadn’t been a happy one. What if their reunion was just as miserable?

  Finally gathering up the courage, he rapped on the door. He heard a voice coming from inside, but it was too muffled to understand. He slowly opened the door and peeked in. The room looked pretty much exactly as he remembered, with dusty old books everywhere, stacked taller than he was. His grandfather wasn’t in the lower room, so he took the stairs up to the casting room, where he knew Elric preferred to spend his time. The lower room was just for studying. The upper room was where the real magic happened.

  This room looked mostly the same to Dagan, as well. However, the man hunched over the scrying mirror, mumbling to himself, was a different matter. His grandfather looked pale and tired. He didn’t have the same fearless and hot-headed demeanor that he’d had before. This man looked weak and old. Even his once-grand robes were worn, faded, and coming apart at the bottom seams as if he had been stepping on them and dragging them across the floor.

  Elric heard someone enter and straightened up the best he could, still almost a foot shorter than Dagan had remembered, rubbing his eyes as he didn’t believe what he was seeing. His grandson, standing before him.

  “Hello, grandfather,” Dagan said, nodding once.

  “Grandson,” Elric replied, nodding back. Dagan wasn’t sure if he should reach out to shake his hand or keep his distance. However, his grandfather practically leapt to him, pulling Dagan into a firm hug. For an old and fragile man, he sure did move quickly across the room. When Elric pulled away, Dagan could see his grandfather’s eyes were swelling with tears. Elric stepped back and cleared his throat.

  “I am so happy to see you, Dagan. I have to admit, I wasn’t at all sure that you would come.”

  “Neither was I,” Dagan admitted, shrugging. “But here I am.”

  “Yes. Here you are,” Elric sighed in relief, then turned back to his mirror and frowned. “Did you get my message? The one I sent with the queen?”

  Dagan laughed. “Well, most of it. She couldn’t remember it all, after so many days. But I got the idea. You are going to the Isles. When?”

  “Soon. Soon.” He paused, looking sad and exhausted. Dagan couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for abandoning his grandfather for so many years. When a wizard begins to age, their pain can only be eased by magic but healing themselves was nearly impossible, as it would drain their magic even further, so they relied on other wizards to assist. Dagan’s grandfather had been alone, for so many years, and it was Dagan’s fault.

  No, Dagan thought, shaking himself back to reality, I can’t let my guilt distract me. That isn’t why I’m here.

  “And the part about my mother’s amulet,” Dagan continued. “You have it?”

  Elric stood and looked around the room. “Yes, yes, I have it. Though, I don’t know its whereabouts at this moment. I will look for it today and have it sent to your room when I find it.” Elric turned back to his mirror.

  Seeing this as his moment to depart, Dagan turned to go.

  “Dagan,” Elric called out after him. Dagan stopped at the top of the stairs and looked back at his grandfather.

  “Thank you for coming.” Elric opened his mouth to something, then stopped. Instead, he just repeated, “Thank you.”

  ~*~

  Sidonie was in shock. The castle was so grand and intimidating. She felt entirely underdressed compared to everyone, even the servants. Now she understood why the queen had looked at her the way she had. Sidonie was practically naked compared to the residents of Junacave.

  When she walked into the castle, her knees nearly buckled, in awe of the many colors and pleasant smells. And there were people, everywhere. Servants buzzing in and out of rooms, guards patrolling the hallways, and people dressed in fine clothes and armor. The great hall was larger than her entire village, filled with flowers and art hanging on the walls, including portraits of past kings and queens. Long tables and stools filled the floor of the hall, with a large emerald green throne sitting at the far end of the room, elevated by three steps. There were several other smaller seats to the left and right of the throne and a crown, the queen’s crown, was sitting on a padded stool, a footstool, perhaps, in front of her throne.

  She had wondered why the queen wasn’t wearing a crown when they captured her outside of the wizard’s lair. The hunting party had no idea who she was because she was dressed like most of the noble women in Elmber. It wasn’t until they arrived at camp, and Adelphie got a glimpse of the queen, that they realized who she was. She was furious at first, fearing the Sabras would be punished for kidnapping the queen of Junacave, whose numbers and weapons far exceeded their own. However, Adelphie refused to show weakness to anyone, even a queen. Sidonie felt her sister had done well, staying strong in front of Breestlin. Sidonie, however, had not been afraid of the queen. Instead, she was intrigued, having never met a royal before. Adelphie knew of Sidonie’s wandering mind and restless heart. Her sister’s suggestion that she accompany the queen to Junacave had been a great blessing to Sidonie, who had always dreamed of traveling away from camp and experiencing the wonders of the realm. The suggestion that she should find a husband, however, had not been.

  Sidonie was beginning to think she was lost. She knew she was in the guest wing, as one of the guards had led her to it. But now she wasn’t even sure which side of the hallway she had started from after being distracted by several paintings on the walls. She couldn’t help but reach up to touch them, running her fingers along the curves of the dried paint. Now all of the doors looked the same to her. Finally deciding this was ridiculous, she turned to a door and opened it.

  Stepping inside the room, her first thought was that this certainly could be her room, with small torches burning around the walls. Cicilly did say that her room would be lit, but the curtains in this room were drawn shut, making it darker, almost like a cave. If not for the torchlight, Sidonie would be entirely in the dark. She decided that this room must have been prepared for someone else, and turned around to leave, running straight into the solid chest of Dagan. She could barely make out his face, but his white hair, so light it almost glowed, had made it easier to tell it was him.

  Sidonie gasped and almost fell, but Dagan grabbed her wrists and held her up. Then he snapped his fingers on one hand, and several more flames lit up on the walls, including two candles on the bed stand beside them. She could now see his entire face. That handsome face. A strong jaw, his thin nose just inches from hers, and big round eyes, so blue that she wanted to swim in them. Maybe it was the lighting in the room, or the fact that Dagan’s body was pressed against hers, but Sidonie was beginning to feel hot, like the flames of the candle nearby. Her breathing became short and quick, as she stared into his eyes, feeling something she had never felt before, that she couldn’t describe. It was like something was pulling her in, begging her to stay.

  His hands started sweating, but she didn’t pull away. A feeling washed over him that confused him and damaged his ability to focus. It felt like magic, but a different kind. He wanted to push her away, yell at her for walking into the wrong room, walking into him. But he couldn’t move, only st
are into her eyes, gray and powerful like storm clouds in the sky. He didn’t even know this girl. She didn’t know him either, but it felt like he had known her his entire life. Like they were connected somehow. Dagan had studied magic for many years since he was old enough to walk. But he had never read anything about magic like this.

  “Is this you?” she whispered. “Are you doing this?” She didn’t sound like she was scared, but more like she was intrigued.

  “No,” he replied. She blinked slowly, wondering if the feeling would change once they lost eye contact. It didn’t.

  The hold did break, however, when there was a knock on the door. Once startled, they let go of each other’s hands.

  Trying to catch his breath, Dagan called out, “Who is it? What do you want?” to the door. His heart was beating as if he had just run up a mountain. Sidonie was clutching her chest, blushing and looking rather embarrassed.

  He could hear Cicilly on the other side of the door and turned to answer it, opening it just enough to show his head, hoping to hide the fact that there was someone else in his room.

  “Queen Mother, I beg your pardon. You caught me waking from a nap, I’m afraid. How may I be of your service?”

  Cicilly just shook her head, “Oh, don’t worry yourself dear, and please call me Cicilly. I just wanted to make sure you had found your room and see if your accommodations would suffice? I have heard great things about your home, a private paradise Bree has called it, so I wanted to see if there was anything else we could do to make your stay more comfortable? As thanks for agreeing to aid our kingdom.”

  Sure, he thought. You could remove this woman from my room that has caused me to feel strange and indescribable feelings and then wipe those feelings from my memory.

  Instead, he replied, “No. No, I am quite comfortable, Queen Moth—er, Cicilly. But I do appreciate the concern and thank you for your gracious hospitality.”

  “You look quite like your mother, Dagan,” Cicilly said. “I remember her from when the two of you lived here, so many years ago. I see your father in you, too, but your eyes… they are your mother’s.” She smiled warmly at him, melting the stone wall he was trying hard to hold up. It had been too many years since anyone had spoken of his mother. Unsure how to respond, he just smiled and nodded.

  “If you would be my guest in the hall this evening, I would be delighted. We will gather for supper at dusk.” She turned to go, then stopped and glanced back, “Oh, and if you see Sidonie, will you please bring her to the hall this evening, as well? I stopped by her room, but she isn’t there. Thank you!” Cicilly turned and strode out of the guest wing.

  Dagan shut the door and turned around. Sidonie was sitting in a chair across from the bed. Seeing that he was finished with his conversation, she stood and started for the door.

  “I should go,” she said.

  He stopped her before she could pass by him by gently tugging on her arm.

  “Wait,” he said, quietly. He wasn’t even sure what to say to her, having just shared a rather intense moment with a complete stranger. This is ridiculous, he thought.

  “I would appreciate it if you would keep this between us.” He regretted the words the moment they left his lips. Sidonie’s back stiffened and her eyes squinted as if she was trying to make sense of his remark. Before he could apologize or come up with something else to say, she had stormed past him and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

  ~*~

  Dagan would live to regret his words again, later that evening. He knocked on Sidonie’s door when it was time for supper and got no answer. He assumed she was still angry with him, so he left her alone and went to the hall by himself. But once he entered the hall, Sidonie was there, sitting at a table across from the queen and a red headed man they called Finnley. Princess Sarita was sitting on Sidonie’s lap and Sidonie was braiding her hair, quite skillfully. Sidonie and Bree were deep in conversation about the upcoming harvest festival, making plans for it, it seemed. Perhaps she wasn’t angry with him after all. Dagan walked over to where Elric was sitting, two tables away, enjoying his meal.

  “Ah, Dagan, my boy,” his grandfather grinned at him, “how nice of you to join me!”

  A kitchen maid sat a bowl of soup in front of him, the moment he sat down. Another brought a basket of breads around to his other side, setting it in the center of the table. Before he could refuse, a third kitchen-maid had filled his goblet with wine. The soup, a creamy mixture of potatoes and onion was delicious, most certainly better than anything he had concocted for himself over the past several years. He had wanted to try one of the raisin oat rolls in the bread basket, but his grandfather had already raided the basket for them before Dagan finished his soup. Like grandfather, like grandson.

  Dagan glanced at Sidonie, still sitting at the same table, only now she was joined by Cicilly and Sarita, instead of the queen and Finnley. Sarita was showing her new braids to her mother. Feeling that Sidonie was far enough away, he finally decided to question his grandfather.

  “If I may ask, grandfather, have you ever read about a magic where two people… I don’t know… join together? For a brief time? Almost like they were connected?” He tried to ask casually, so as not to sound too concerned.

  Elric swallowed his last bite of bread and picked up his goblet, eyeing his grandson with great suspicion.

  “I have,” he said, then took a gulp of his wine, still watching Dagan.

  “Yes, and?” Dagan asked, impatiently.

  Elric laughed, loudly, drawing attention to himself, while Dagan tried to hide behind him, in case Sidonie turned around because of the noise.

  “You have felt it, then? The fusion?”

  “The what? Fusion? Is that what it’s called?” Dagan was speaking just barely above a whisper. His grandfather, however, didn’t get the message.

  “Yes, it is called fusion. When the magic of two people fuses together, it is called fusion. It is similar to love, only it’s magical. Think of it this way, when two people’s hearts join together, they call it love. When two magics join together, we call it fusion. The two people whose magics have fused are mates, magically speaking. It is the closest thing that we wizards can get to a soul mate. Your mother and father, for example, were fused for a time.”

  Dagan chose to ignore all of the other nonsense that his grandfather was spewing and only focused on the last sentence. “My parents had this, fusion? I thought she didn’t have any magic?”

  “She didn’t. For some reason, she didn’t inherit any of her father’s magic, so he took a piece of his own magic and trapped it inside an amulet. Her amulet.”

  Dagan was trying to piece the information together.

  “So when she wore the amulet, she had magic? Why didn’t I ever see her use it?”

  “She did use it,” Elric answered, “when she fell in love with your father when they fused together. It was the amulet that caused them to come together. Without it, he never would have found his mate.”

  “So what happened, then? Why did she leave him and bring us here?” Dagan asked.

  “The magic ran out.”

  Elric didn’t elaborate and Dagan didn’t push him any further. He could see the pained look in his grandfather’s eyes. When Dagan’s mother left his father, it was the last any of them had ever heard of him. His father could still be out there, or could be dead, Dagan didn’t know.

  Elric stood up, then put his hand into a pocket inside his robes. He fumbled around in the pocket for a moment, then pulled out a small blue amulet, still on its thin silver chain. He sat it down on the table in front of Dagan. Then, without saying a word, he turned and walked out of the hall.

  ~*~

  Dagan had what he came to retrieve. With his mother’s amulet in his pocket, Dagan slipped his satchel and cloak around him. Escape would be easy, he figured, as no one would expect him to leave this soon, therefore, seeing him walk out would raise no suspicion. R
eady to go, Dagan cracked his door open to check the hallway and make sure he was alone. On the way down the hall, he heard laughter and giggles, coming from a room, three doors down from his. He recognized one of those voices was Sidonie. He crept up to the door, which was only halfway closed, careful not to make a sound. Since the hallway was fairly dark at this time of night, he figured it was safe to peek into the room.

  Sidonie was wearing a dress, though, it was nothing like the one she arrived in. This was a beautiful gown with a full skirt, the color of a bright blue sky, which made her tanned skin stand out, more than usual. Her dark brown hair was down, all of it now, with her braid taken out. She had an apple on her head and was walking across the room.

  Dagan wasn’t sure why anyone would want to walk across the room with an apple on her head, but Sidonie was attempting just that. The apple dropped and Sarita let out a squeal, followed by laughter. The queen was sitting next to Sarita, snickering to herself. Sidonie picked up the apple and started again, growing frustrated.

  Seeing Sidonie’s face becoming red with anger was amusing to Dagan, who had to cover his mouth to keep his chuckles from being overheard. So this is what ladies were expected to learn to find a husband? How to walk without dropping an apple? He gave the room one last glance, then turned away and walked out.

  It had taken some time, but he finally made it around to the back side of the castle, nodding to every guard that he saw, making small talk about the weather with a few, to avoid causing suspicion. The castle had mostly gone dark now, with everyone settled for the night. He was almost to the stables when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. A figure, cloaked in black, was sneaking up to the inner castle walls. Dagan hid behind a wagon and watched the figure as it reached the wall of one of the wings and begin to climb it. He wasn’t sure how anyone could climb the side of a stone wall, but this person was certainly doing it.