Fagren smiled as he looked around and, with a flourish of his hand, said, “Welcome to the resistance.” His tone changed. “Or what’s left of it.”
I was shocked as I looked around at the once-great resistance—the rebels called the Silver Swords were now merely a band of refugees who had escaped Morgana’s guards only to die here in a dark cave, forgotten and alone.
Rafe explained to Fagren that we were looking for Captain Jarvik and we needed to get into the town of Royn.
“That old goat!” Fagren sneered as we sat around a fire that night, nibbling on stale corncakes the ladies had made a few days before. “Full of tall tales.”
“But he’s here?” Rafe confirmed. “In the town of Royn?”
“Seems like it,” Fagren nodded. “His vessel docked here just a few days ago, last I heard.”
“We need to talk to him urgently,” Penelope interrupted.
“Now?”
Rafe threw a fleeting look at Kalen. “The sooner the better. Can you get us into Royn tonight, Fagren?”
“I don’t know. Royn is teeming with guards. They have ransacked all the towns and cities along the coast and put the citizens to work to supply the growing needs of Morgana’s army. Blacksmiths, tanners, and all the other useful artisans are now making clothes and weapons for Morgana. She has raised taxes, bleeding the kingdom dry to a point where the citizens are paying more than they are making. It’s a mess here. Anyone who rebels against her or her guards is quickly silenced or shipped away to the mines. Others who have managed to escape the dungeons find safe haven here.”
Rafe leveled him a steely look. “We still need to find Captain Jarvik urgently, Fagren. Can you get us into Royn or not?”
The leader of the Eldorean underworld stroked his dark beard. “I will see what I can do.”
Two young girls came up to me and tugged at my belt.
I looked down at their pale dirty faces and hollow eyes staring up at me with wonder.
“Mama says you are the true Queen of Illiador,” said one girl with fair hair; it once could have been a rich gold but was now caked with ash and blood. “She says you are the Dawnstar.”
“Mama says you came to save us,” said the other. Her dark eyes narrowed. “Have you come to save us?”
I had never felt the loss of my magic as much as I did at this very moment. Every time someone called me the Dawnstar I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. Aurora Firedrake the Dawnstar was gone. All that was left in her place was an imposter, a powerless husk of the so-called Shadowbreaker.
My eyes welled up at the hope in their faces, and my heart constricted as never before. I could have helped them once—I could have burned Morgana’s soldiers to a crisp and given these people back their homes and their town. I could have united the kingdoms and defeated this general. But that was before the Dagger took my magic from me. It was like a gaping hole within me, and I felt the loss of my magic every waking moment.
I shook my head at the twisted turn of fate. The Dawnstar had been their only hope, and I had taken it from them. Even though they didn’t know I had lost my magic, one day they would, and their last shred of hope would die along with a kingdom I could not save.
A fire rose up inside me, born not of magic but of anger and despair all intertwined in a fiery mass that seemed to choke me. I knelt before the girls, put my hands on their frail shoulders, and said the only thing that gave me solace in the darkest of times. “Have faith.” I tried to keep my voice from breaking as a wealth of emotions stormed within me. “A very wise dragon once told me if you have faith, nothing is impossible.”
The girls’ eyes grew wider. “You know a dragon?”
I stood, pulling myself up to my full height, and surveyed the room. “Of course,” I said, smiling at the two girls, my course set, my mind clear as to what my path was. “His name is Abraxas. And he is the mightiest dragon who ever lived.”
The fair-haired girl’s lips trembled. “Will he come to save us too?”
I gazed around the cave once more at my people, the world I was meant to save. “I certainly hope so, my dear.” My voice was low. “I certainly hope so.”
But the ring on my finger lay dull and lifeless like any other ordinary ring.
Stars twinkled overhead as we skirted the edges of the forest following Fagren to the town of Royn on the coast of Illiador. As midnight neared, we reached the little walled town.
I really hoped this Captain Jarvik, whoever he was, could help us find the druids. If we didn’t get to them in time, Kalen would die.
Fagren had agreed to keep an eye on the movements of Morgana’s army and find out more about her whereabouts when they made camp. Once we found the druids, if we found them, eventually we would have to return here and try to sneak into Morgana’s camp to steal the Dagger.
Penelope glamoured us while Fagren paid the guard at the gate. The guard carefully ushered us in through a side entrance. The resistance had men positioned at key places in different towns, gathering information and helping others escape the guards.
The town was surprisingly busy at this time of night. Closely packed wooden houses with thatched roofs were separated by a maze of small cobblestone streets that all seemed to lead to the docks, which were the main trade and hub of the town. A salty sea breeze carried with it the smell of fish as fishermen haggled at the docks with multiple buyers, trying to get the best deal for their daily haul.
