The Royal Wizard (30 page)

“Why?” he asked the crystal. “Why can’t you bring her to me? You want her as much as I do, I can feel it.” The stone was ever ravenous for power, and the wizard had so much she all but shone with it. Never had he encountered one so strong.

He wanted her. Oh, yes, he wanted her very much. If he possessed such power he would no longer have need of this pathetic human shell. He could create a new one, in any form he fancied. He could change faces as he did clothes. He could be truly immortal; walk among the Others who hid from his sight.

The wizard is no fool,
the stone whispered, not in words but thoughts and ideas the sorcerer understood.
She will not yield easily.

“Then help me!” he screamed at it. “Tell me what to do!”

She will not surrender her mind. You must draw her out where she is most vulnerable.

“Yes,” he said, thinking fast. “I understand. I do.” The wizard was human and as any other human, her biggest weakness was her fragile body. If he wanted to bring her to her knees, he’d have to do it himself. “You always lead me true,” he crooned, cuddling the stone to his chest as he laid down to sleep. He would have his wizard.

And as a treat, he would have the privilege of feeling the life drain out of her body. 

CHAPTER 32

It was the first time in four months that Nia made it up the stairs from Nico’s study on her own. Bright sunlight blinded her in the courtyard, the autumn sky clear blue and the air crisp. She turned her face up to the sun’s warmth, listening to the earth and the trees begin preparing for their winter sleep. Summers were short this far north. Already the leaves were turning brilliant shades of red and yellow.

The harvest was being gathered; the people sang as they worked. The earth had given them enough to fill their stores; there would be no empty stomachs this winter. Nia thanked the earth and sent a little wave of power into the ground to replenish the fields. It was a simple spell, one she’d done many times before. The power would lay sleeping with the earth, grow on its own until spring and then awaken to nourish everything in the kingdom.

She wished she could ride out across the fields to see for herself how everything was faring. Alas, as the royal wizard, her first duty was to the king. The only reason she’d even made her way above ground was because Saeran was meeting with his advisors yet again and required her presence. Though she had her suspicions that he’d only asked her to attend to make sure she would breathe fresh air again. Sometimes she wondered who was looking after whom.

Nia smiled at the stable hand who’d called a greeting to her. Time to see to her duties. She inhaled deeply one more time and then turned toward the king’s council room. The way wasn’t long, but it was arduous. The halls were filled with people, servants and guests, all preparing for Samhain. Nia would have to lead a procession to the altar again to thank the gods for a bountiful harvest. The celebration afterward would be no smaller than Beltaine night.

There was a faire in the village, with merchants from all over the kingdom and farther come to display their wares. Though the queen’s passing had saddened many, she had only been among them for a very short time. What the people mourned more was their king’s loss. The news of Saeran’s illness and recovery was slowly spreading throughout the kingdom, though no one but those closest to him would ever know the full truth it. Nia doubted anyone else would believe it if they knew.

Nia nodded to the guards at the top of the stairway. There were more of them throughout the castle, keeping an eye on the king. They had strict orders to come for her if they saw or heard anything suspicious. She knew Saeran chafed to be so closely watched, but until she could be sure the threat to him has passed, he would have to endure it.

Once she mounted the stairs, there were no more crowds. The doors were all closed, all but the one to the council room, where she could hear men speaking.

Nia frowned and slowed her step.

“There will not be another queen,” Saeran was saying, his voice strained, as if he’d said it several times already.

“But Sire,” one of the advisors argued, “the realm will need an heir. It will tear itself apart if you should die without one!”

Saeran hadn’t told them the reason for his decision. Who would believe him? Even with a powerful wizard at his side, performing magic in plain sight, no one would take talk of dragons seriously. Until she’d met one herself, Nia had thought them to be no more than legend, and she had Others shadowing her step almost every day.

“Was it the fever?” a timid voice asked. “We thought, all of us, that the wizard healed his Majesty.”

“She did,” Saeran said tightly. “That is not the reason.”

“Then what is?” the first advisor demanded.

Nia pulled her shoulders back and entered the study. “Mind your tone, advisor Allon,” she told the old man swathed in purple robes. Allon was one of two advisors Nia had asked Saeran not to replace. He was old and pampered and often forgot his place, but he remembered a time most of them had forgotten, if they’d lived through it at all. His wisdom on the council was worth these brief spurts of insubordination. At least that was what she told herself.

“You have heard of this, I assume,” he said, his face turning ruddy. “His Majesty has decided not to take another wife. What do you make of it?”

Nia met Saeran’s gaze. “It is not my place to question a royal decree,” she told Allon without looking at him. “Nor is it yours.”

“That is precisely your place! You are the only one he will listen to.” His words fell silent at the sharp warning look she cast him. He blushed deeper and straightened in his seat, adopting a more measured tone when he spoke again. “What I mean is King Saeran has no siblings to provide a line of succession. If he dies heirless, the royal line will die with him. There are several noble houses eager enough to see one of theirs sit the throne that would go to war. If there is no one to take his Majesty’s place, the kingdom will be torn apart. You know this is so.”

“There is also the matter of the Aegirans to consider,” Kvaran added.

Saeran drew himself up. “What do you mean?”

“The marriage was a bond of peace between Wilderheim and Aegiros. That bond is now broken. Queen Mari, may she be at peace, died in the land of the people who nearly destroyed an entire tribe.”

“And what would you have had us do? Bow down to the Aegirans?”

Kvaran steepled his fingers. “I am simply trying to point out that the circumstances of her death are not clear, and the wizard’s involvement might sow seeds of suspicion. Should they decide that Queen Mari’s death was deliberate, the tribe will retaliate.”

There was silence after he finished speaking. It was a possibility Nia hadn’t considered. Only the midwife who’d held Mari’s hand as she died knew what Nia had done. She was the only one who could tell Mari’s family the truth of her death; that they’d done all they could to save her. But would they hear her? And if they did, would they believe her? A woman in Aegiros was expected to hold her tongue and defer to the men of her tribe: warriors, men whose only purpose in life was to fight for their
shansher
and conquer in his name.

As a people who revered bloodlines as much as the royals of the north, the Aegirans might forgive Saeran for taking another wife directly after Mari’s death, but they would never forgive the murder of one of their own, one entrusted to Saeran as a symbol of peace.

Braith, the young girl with wild red hair, cleared her throat. “Perhaps Lady Nia could look into the future?” she suggested.

“No,” Saeran said at once. “Whatever she sees there will not affect my decision. If an heir is all you concern yourselves with, I will be sure to appoint a successor before breath has left my body. I may not have siblings, but there are cousins aplenty, King Halden’s children, any of whom would do right by Wilderheim, should it come to that.”

The advisors spoke up, one and all, except for Braith.

“That is final,” Saeran said, silencing them.

Everyone looked to Nia. They expected words of wisdom when she had none to give. She and Saeran alone understood why this had to be so, and Saeran didn’t want them to know; therefore, Nia couldn’t tell them. Instead, she made her way to his side, taking her place as his right hand without a word. None were needed. 

The advisors didn’t take it well, but they held their peace. “Be at ease,” she told them. “Should the unlikely happen and leave the kingdom without a ruler, it will pass to King Halden’s heirs. His Majesty has learned much from his uncle, as I am sure, have his cousins, all of them honorable men and women who owe Wilderheim their lives. That debt alone will compel them to do right by us.”

You complicate things far too much,
the dragon said, amusement and exasperation lacing his words.

“Let us move on,” Saeran said. “What of the Samhain preparations?”

Braith was the one to answer, and Nia smiled to herself. It was about time there were more women telling the king what to do. She sent the thought to Saeran, and he shifted in his seat, subtly elbowing her in retaliation. She hid her grin behind a delicate cough as Braith spoke.

By the time the advisors left, the plans for Samhain were set, the harvest cataloged, news relayed and official correspondences dictated. Saeran leaned back in his seat and rubbed his face. He looked tired, understandably so. “They will not let up on this,” she warned him.

Saeran chuckled without humor. “They are more concerned about royal lines than I am.”

“Perhaps one of them ought to be king. Or queen.” She took a seat, still weak, though gaining strength every day.

Saeran’s eyes twinkled. “Perhaps I should name Braith as my successor.”

Nia grinned. “I have always said every kingdom needed a woman’s touch.”

He made a rough noise. “That is the last thing a kingdom needs.”

Nia laughed.

Saeran smiled. “And how do you fare, my lady?”

“Well enough, my lord.”

So many words remained unspoken between them, words that couldn’t be voiced. Not now; perhaps not ever. They lay heavy on Nia’s heart, making her feel ancient with sorrow. What pained her more, Saeran seemed to see it, and his own smile dimmed in response. “Come,” he said, rising. “We will take a walk.”

She took his offered hand and let him lead her down to the gardens. After being in the warm study for so long, the cold air chilled her, but she breathed in and accepted it. It was merely another part of life. Sometimes people had to get cold to appreciate the warmth of a hearth fire.

She walked beside her king in silence, enjoying every breeze. All around them life was thriving. Animals scrambled about, making stores for the winter, preparing their nests and burrows. Soon snow would cover everything, erasing memories of a year gone by. The land would start anew, without the burdens humans carried with them. Sometimes she envied that.

Close to the edge of the forest, the gardens were empty. No one ventured here since the flowers have begun to wilt. The path led past a tall hedge, sculpted into a wall onto an open field. In the summer it was covered in wild flowers and herbs that midwives used to brew their teas and remedies. There was a stream running through the meadow. Its waters were clear enough to drink, and the stones lining its bed were polished by sand and time.

By the banks lay logs to serve as seats. They were nigh invisible in the tall grass, but those who knew where to look would always find them. Many a noble had sat here with their beloved and spoke vows of everlasting love. They did so hoping there was magic in this place to grant them a long and happy life together. Rarely did such vows hold true.

Saeran led them to one of the logs and pulled Nia onto his lap when he took his seat. He embraced her tightly. “I miss you,” he said, breathing a sigh into her shoulder.

“I’m right here.” They shouldn’t be like this, but Nia didn’t move away. Instead of leaving his embrace she weaved an illusion around them. In case someone happened by, they’d see the king perching on the log and Nia sitting by the creek, playing with the waves.

“Not always.”

“No one can spend every moment of every day with another person,” she told him, half smiling at this strange conversation.

“You could. But you won’t.” He caught her hand in his, tracing her palm, and then twining his fingers between hers. “I offered you the crown once and you refused. Would I risk the same disaster to offer it again?”

“I can’t, Saeran.” Though all she wanted to do was stay with him this way forever, she couldn’t ignore the feeling of disaster looming ahead.

“Why?” he asked roughly, and this time the dragon echoed him, puzzled. 

CHAPTER 33

Do not tell me you still harbor a mortal’s fears, Lady Nia.

Nia left Saeran’s lap and took her illusion’s place at the creek, blending into it until they matched. The illusion turned into mist and blew away on a breeze.
Will you be spying on me for the rest of my days now, Dragon? Simply because you can?

You are my window to my grandson,
he said.
It is my only amusement in this place. Though I cannot see why you frustrate the poor boy so.

Saeran was silent, his features tense, waiting for her to speak. It was clear he’d like nothing better than to say more, but it was a moment’s passion that would pass as soon as he remembered why he ought not wed again.

I cannot speak to him with you in my head! I do not need you to take his side in this.

But you do,
the dragon replied. Then, after a pause, his tone changed
. Child, do you still not know who you are?

Nia shut him out of her mind. “Someone’s coming,” she said softly, sending her words to Saeran alone.

Within moments the intruder came into view on the path from the castle. Saeran pushed to his feet and his jaw tensed when he saw the slight man with gleaming blond hair and an empty smile. His instant dislike was obvious and put Nia on guard
. Is something wrong?