Where Shadows Lie Read online

  Where Shadows Lie

  book two of the portals of ayden

  Kim Stokely

  Copyright © 2017 by Kim Stokely

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  Kim Stokely/Createspace

  Bellevue, NE

  www.kimstokely.com

  Book cover design by The Scarlett Rugers Design Agency

  www.scarlettrugers.com

  Map by Michael Weir: www.patreon.com/levilagann

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Book Layout © 2015 BookDesignTemplates.com

  Where Shadows Lie/ Kim Stokely -- 1st ed.

  ISBN 978-1546575030

  To Ian and Anna

  I am blessed to be your mom and so proud of the people you have become.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER ONE

  The First Reunion

  “It’s time to wake up, Lady Alystrine.”

  I ignored my maid and pulled the covers over my head.

  Plates clattered and the room warmed up as Rhoswen bustled about, stoking the fire and arranging my breakfast as she did every morning. I thought about my life before I’d been sucked into this strange world of Ayden. I probably wouldn’t have missed the bus so often if I’d had Rhoswen there to get me up and ready for school in Connecticut. A feeling of melancholy seeped into my bones as I swept away the memories of home. Every day I forced myself to accept this new reality and deal with it as best I could. I repeated what I knew to be true. I am Alystrine, daughter of Queen Etain and the Elder, Geran. I am heir to the throne of Ayden. I agreed to marry a man I hate in order to save the life of a boy I love.

  Rhoswen grunted as she yanked off my covers. I stared at the blue canopy above me. If I wasn’t living it, I wouldn’t believe it myself.

  “You’ll excuse me, my lady, but you’re not yet queen and Lord Braedon said you must be ready to meet the Assembly this morning. There’s much to do before then.” Fear flashed behind the young woman’s eyes. “I answer to the Lord Regent above you.”

  I shook off the last remnants of sleep, fluffed my pillows then rested them against the wooden headboard so I could sit up in bed. Rhoswen placed a pewter tray on my lap. My breakfast consisted of a thick slice of dark bread smeared with butter, a chunk of cheese, and a mug of some kind of dark liquid. I lifted the cup, surprised it wasn’t hot, which meant it wasn’t my usual tea. It smelled fruity, but didn’t sting my nose like wine. “What’s this?”

  The maid brushed her red hair from her face. “It’s apple-berry cider. Some of the Brethren from the Sanctuary brought it with them. I thought it would make a nice change for you.”

  I took a sip. The sweetness of the berries cut the crisp, tart flavor of the apples. It tasted like I’d swallowed a handful of fresh fruit. I gulped it down, relishing the relief it brought to my dry throat. “I wish we had more of that.”

  Rhoswen continued her work. “I’ll see they bring you some while you meet with the Assembly. You’ll be needing refreshment there, I’m sure.”

  I nibbled on the cheese as my maid laid out my gown for the day, a simple blue silk with silver vines embroidered at the scooped neck and hem. A big difference from the jeans and sweat shirts I wore back home.

  “Let me guess,” I eyed the dress. “Braedon picked this out.”

  “The Lord Regent insisted.” Her slender, calloused fingers brushed the shimmering fabric.

  I figured as much. The low-cut gown was very much his taste rather than mine. It made my betrothal to him all the creepier. Before I finished eating, Malina arrived. The old nurse entered without knocking. Her gnarled hands held strips of linen.

  “Let’s have a look at you.” Her high voice sang with a light brogue.

  I stuffed the last piece of cheese in my mouth before sliding out of bed. Rhoswen helped me take off my nightgown. Malina unwound the bandages that bound my shoulder and arm.

  I tried to see where she was poking. “How’s it look?”

  Her mouth puckered. “Better. Try lifting it.”

  I raised my arm until my elbow came even with my ear and then winced. “How long does an arrow wound usually take to heal?”

  “It’s not the arrow itself that caused the worst damage.” She pressed my arm forward until I grimaced again, then pulled it back. “It’s the dark magic you were exposed to after.”

  Her eyes held mine as if willing me not to remember, but it did no good. My mind flooded with the images of torture and evil Braedon’s Black Guards had forced into my head. I pushed them down, not letting them stay in my head.

  Malina watched me closely before speaking again. “Time for new bandages.”

  “It’s been three weeks already.”

  Her eyebrows lifted until they almost touched her graying hair line. “Yes, and you keep reinjuring it.”

  “I promise to be careful. You can bind it up after these stupid meetings.” I hurried over to the fireplace to warm up. “I hate looking wounded in front of all the officials.”

  “Let me wrap it enough to keep the cloth of your gown from rubbing it.” Malina waved a finger at me. “But you’re not to lift anything heavier than a . . . a . . . cup of wine. Is that understood?”

  “Yes ma’am.” I grinned. “I promise.”

  She sniffed as if she didn’t believe me, but set about covering the wound. She muttered unintelligibly while she did her work. When she finished, she glared at me again. “I’ll be back to check on you this evening.”

  I couldn’t help chuckling as she walked out, still mumbling under her breath.

  Rhoswen helped me put on my clothes. She let out a forlorn sigh once she’d laced up the back of the gown.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry, my lady.” She picked a comb up from the mantle. “But I do so wish you had hair I could style.”

  “I know. It stinks.” I sat obediently down on a wooden stool so she could at least straighten out what hair I had left after my uncle Devnet had chopped it off, hoping to disguise me as a boy. I swallowed a lump in my throat. Devnet had stormed away when he saw Braedon kiss me. The whole thing had been a stupid misunderstanding, but my uncle wouldn’t let me explain. The whole thing left me angry and sad. And lonely. Devnet had been one of the only people in Ayden I knew, for certain, I could trust.

  Someone rapped loudly on the wooden door. One of the soldiers
that guarded my room entered. “You have visitors, my lady.”

  “Who is it?” I asked as Rhoswen used a decorative comb to fasten a few rogue strands down along the side of my face.

  “Elders. Brethren from the Sanctuary.”

  “What are their names?”

  “Devnet and Simon.”

  I got up before Rhoswen had a chance to finish, another comb dropping with a light metallic tap onto the stone floor.

  The red-haired girl stooped to pick it up, her brows furrowed with determination. “But I’m not done.”

  I ignored her, following the guard out the door. “Where are they?”

  “In the receiving room, next to the library.”

  I flew through the halls. I’d sent a message to the Sanctuary a few days ago asking if the two men might serve as my secretaries. I hadn’t been sure my request for the two men had ever been delivered. In fact, I’d been pretty certain Braedon had intercepted it. But here, as if my thoughts had summoned him, was my uncle; along with Simon, an elderly teacher from the Sanctuary, who had spent time helping me refresh my Latin, the written language of this world.

  The two men sat on a cushioned bench in front of a fireplace. Two large wooden chairs flanked either side of the bench. A wool rug filled the space between them. Both stood and bowed as I came in. Simon–bald, stout and round-faced, smiled. I concentrated on looking at him, too scared what I’d see in Devnet’s eyes. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

  Simon raised his hands to his sides then clasped them together. “One doesn’t take a request from the future queen lightly.” He glanced at the dark blond man next to him. “We assumed it was urgent.”

  “I’m glad you’re both here.” I pointed to the bench. “Please, sit.” I took a seat in one of the chairs and stared at the flames that crackled in the fireplace. A log slipped, sending a plume of gray smoke out into the room.

  Simon finally broke the silence. “Are you well, Your Majesty?”

  “Yes. Relatively speaking.”

  His fuzzy white eyebrows rose as he leaned forward. “You said you needed our help.”

  I stood. “Yes.” I glanced at Devnet, but his face held no expression. The last time I’d seen him, he’d called me a traitor to my family. I couldn’t tell what he thought of me now. Pacing away from them, I stared at a tapestry on the far wall. “People keep giving me petitions and edicts and all sorts of things they think I should sign after the coronation. I need help reading them. I need someone to advise me about what I should do. Someone I trust.” I walked back to them. “Would you be willing to help me? Be my secretaries? My counselors?”

  Simon waited for Devnet to answer, but my uncle remained silent. The portly man stood then bowed. “I would be honored.”

  “Thank you.” I took a deep breath and forced myself not to look at my uncle. “You can start right away, if you’d like.” I led Simon to the door then ordered the guard outside, “Take this man to the library and fetch him the paperwork from the desk in my room.” I gave Simon a hug which, judging by how wide his eyes grew, shocked the old man. “I’ll have to ask about getting you a room, but don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll find something suitable.”

  The door clicked softly behind me as Simon left. Devnet shut his eyes. I alternated between wanting to cry and wanting to hit him. “What?” I took a step toward him. “You’re not even going to look at me?”

  His eyes stayed closed.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “If you’re not going to forgive me, why did you even come?”

  His hands lay folded on his lap. His knuckles whitened. “I wasn’t going to.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “Quinn. He brought your message.”

  I started in surprise. I didn’t know the Portal had delivered the message. He hadn’t told me.

  “Quinn explained . . .” His shoulders slumped forward. “I failed to understand all that happened.” He looked at me then, his blue-green eyes swimming with tears. “Did the Black Guards really try to break you?”

  “It was awful.” I fought back the images Braedon’s beasts had forced into my head–thousands of snakes, Devnet tortured, my mother skinned alive.

  His eyes narrowed, deepening the fine lines around them. “And yet, even after that . . . you somehow believed Braedon’s lies?”

  “I was scared and alone and stupid. I wanted to believe him.”

  Devnet reached up to cup my face in his hand. A gentle gesture, so different than the slap he’d given me the last time I’d seen him. “Forgive me. I had not considered everything you had been through. I let my anger get the best of me.”

  I knelt down in front of him. “I know now. Everything you said about him was true. He’s a liar. He’ll do anything to get what he wants.” My voice caught. “I can’t do this alone. Please. Help me.”

  He pulled me into a hug. “I will.” He kissed my forehead. “I will.” Devnet lifted me up as he stood. He wrapped his arm around mine as we walked toward the room’s one window. “I also came to warn you.”

  “Warn me? Why?”

  My uncle’s voice barely rose above a whisper. “The Brethren of the Order have been corrupted.”

  “You mean Zaccur, right? The man who tried to strangle me back at the Sanctuary?”

  Devnet nodded. “But I fear the plot goes deeper than Zaccur. Javan, the head of his Order, is also involved. He has minions in the other Orders as well. Some on the Assembly.”

  “Who?”

  “I know who is not. Goram, the head of my Order, is still loyal to you and the Elders.” He paused as we came to the stone wall. “I’m not sure of the others.”

  I clutched his arm tighter. “But why? What do they want?”

  “The Assembly have had the final word in all laws and edicts passed in Ayden since Braedon became Lord Regent. Nothing he desires can be done without their approval.” He dipped his head low so he could speak softer. “There are those, even among the Brethren, whose will can be bought if enough money or power is promised them.”

  “Will they try to kill me again?”

  My uncle gave a small nod. “There is much turmoil among the traitors. They don’t understand why Braedon hasn’t killed you yet. Nor do I, for that matter.”

  I pulled away from my uncle and walked toward the thin, rectangular window. From this second floor perspective, I looked out over the outer wall of the castle. The bustling city of Uz lay just past the barrier, and beyond that, the river that had brought me here. I knew why Braedon hadn’t killed me, but I guess Quinn hadn’t told Devnet that I’d signed a betrothal contract to the Lord Regent. The contract assured the Mystics would forever have a place in ruling Ayden. I didn’t have the courage to tell my uncle about it now, especially since he’d flipped out when Braedon kissed me and I’d only just regained his trust.

  A peacock in the courtyard below let out a mournful cry. I found myself rubbing my neck as I remembered how Zaccur had tried to strangle me. “How do you think they’ll try this time?”

  “I don’t know.” Devnet stepped to my side. “But they will have to move soon. The coronation is in three days.”

  “Why not wait until after then?”

  “Because they fear you’ll have already named a successor.”

  I frowned. “Who?”

  Devnet’s cheeks reddened. “Me.” He stumbled on, “Or your grandmother, Maris. Someone of Elder blood who has a connection with you.”

  I watched my uncle, looking for clues as to what he was thinking. Other than the blush, he kept his face closed. I narrowed my eyes. “Do you want it?”

  His forehead creased. “Want what?”

  “The crown?”

  He paused for a moment as if contemplating. If he had answered right away I wouldn’t have believed him, but his gaze left mine and looked out the window. He took a deep breath of the chilled air. “I’ve become accustomed to a quieter role after my years in the Sanctuary. I prefer the solitude. A life in the background.”<
br />
  “What about your mother?”

  The creases deepened along his brow. “She’s led the Elders for many years now. She’s used to being in authority. But the stress may be too great.”

  “She could take it for a year or so and then declare her own successor, couldn’t she?”

  He frowned. “The role of monarch is one for a lifetime. It is supposed to be granted by Ruahk. Only He determines when one’s reign is over.”

  I watched him for a moment before walking away. I’d never put much stock in any god and it creeped me out to think something else had control over my life. “Hopefully we won’t have to deal with any of this.”

  Devnet followed behind me. “We must be vigilant at all times. Suspect everyone.” He put his hand on my elbow and turned me around. “Trust no one, Alystrine.”

  I held his stare. “No one.”

  The door to the sitting room swung open. Lord Braedon waited in the hallway. “Alystrine, it’s time─” He stopped when he spied my uncle. “Devnet? Why was I not informed of your visit?”

  My uncle bowed curtly. “We only just arrived.”

  Braedon lifted an eyebrow. “We?”

  Devnet answered before I could. “Elder Simon and I have arrived from the Sanctuary in answer to Alystrine’s request for secretaries.”

  Braedon’s anger was palpable. “I thought Sigal filled that role for you?”

  I rested my hands along the back of one of the chairs. “Sigal came after I’d sent my message. I never thought to call it back.”

  I sensed he wanted to say something more, but stopped himself. He reached a hand toward me. “Come, Alystrine. The Assembly is gathering.”

  I looked at Devnet. “The guard can take you to Simon. I’ll meet you later.”

  I caught the smug smile my uncle directed at Braedon as he bowed. “As you wish, my lady.”

  The Lord Regent scowled, still holding his hand out. I reluctantly placed mine in his. He tightened his fingers. “I should have been told of your uncle’s arrival.”

  “I’m just as surprised as you are.” A quick glance at his eyes told me I’d been right in my belief that he had intercepted my message. Quinn must have gone behind both our backs.