“Tarlak,” she said. “That was Tarlak. He’s dead, Harruq. Antonil as well. They’re all dead.”
He opened his mouth, closed it. Her words were a knife to his heart.
“No,” he blubbered. “No, that’s not right. You…what you saw was a dream, a vision, maybe you…”
“Stop it,” she said. “I know what that was. He was trying to warn us about something. All I saw was fire. I felt it, Harruq. Antonil dove atop him to save him, but they both burned.”
“Warn us?” Harruq asked. He was still trying to wrap his head around the idea of such good friends dying in so terrible a way. “Warn us about what?”
She rose unsteadily to her feet.
“The king is dead,” she said. “I don’t know if he knew I heard, but Antonil’s last words were him begging you to protect his family. Think, Harruq. Gregory’s now the heir. Who benefits most? Who’s now in the most danger?”
Before she’d even finished her sentence Harruq was belting his swords to his waist, not even bothering with his armor.
“Where’s Gregory?” he asked as he cinched the belt tight, then looped the extra leather beyond the buckle into a knot. When finished, he tossed Aurelia her staff from a corner of the room.
“He and Aubrienna are with their tutor,” she said as she caught it.
“Good, they’re together. That’ll save us time. Once we get them we’ll gather some guards, keep everyone on alert. There’s not going to be any sort of coup today, I promise.”
They left his room and hurried down the hall.
“Stay calm,” Aurelia said, pulling on him to slow him down. “There’s no way anyone can know about it yet.”
“You know about it,” Harruq countered.
They reached the stairwell and climbed to the upper floor of the castle. Down the hall stood four soldiers holding short swords. Harruq nodded at them, then barged through the door they guarded. Gregory and Aubrienna sat at small desks, scraps of paper before them. Hovering over them was an older man with white hair, the tutor brought in to teach the children their letters. Gregory was fairly young for it, but Aubrienna had taken to writing. Both their hands were smeared with ink, and at his noisy entrance they jumped.
“Lessons are over,” Harruq said to the tutor. “Go on home.”
The old man bowed, clearly confused but not pressing for a reason. He said goodbye to the children, then left. With him gone Harruq checked every part of the room, even what seemed like empty spaces. Haern had taught him how well the best of the best could hide in plain sight. Once certain the room was secure, he flung the bolt on the door in place, locking them inside.
“Keep playing,” Aurelia told Aubrienna when she asked what was going on. Beside her Gregory had fallen silent, watching with his ink-covered hands in his lap, staining his outfit black.
“We’ve got some time to think,” Harruq said, feeling infinitely better now that he was with his daughter. “Now that Antonil is…”
He paused, glancing at Gregory.
“…not around,” he continued, “that means Gregory’s king, right?”
“They won’t let a child rule at such a young age,” Aurelia said.
“Then it’ll be Susan. We need to get her to safety. She’ll be next in line to rule.”
Aurelia gave him a look, and he realized he was still missing something.
“What?” he asked.
“A steward is appointed to rule when a child cannot,” she explained. “And in this case, the king’s last act was to appoint such a steward. Susan won’t rule, Harruq. You will.”
Harruq’s emotions felt too raw to act appropriately, so he just acted like himself.
“Shit.” He punched the wall, ignoring how much the stone hurt his hand. “Shit, shit, shit!”
He caught both children watching him, and he felt his neck flush.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “Ignore daddy’s mouth.”
“Susan’s life might still be in danger,” Aurelia said, keeping her voice subdued in hopes Aubrienna and Gregory would not pay attention. “If anyone wants to usurp the throne, she’ll still need to be eliminated.”
Harruq nodded, trying to think. He’d accepted his position thinking it’d only be temporary. In a year at most Antonil was supposed to return, having conquered the scattered orc armies. But now…Gregory wasn’t even four. How long until the boy was considered a man by law? He didn’t know, but he severely wished he did. Eight years? Ten? He thought of the years passing, the weight of everything on his shoulders, and felt panic rising in his chest.
“I can’t do this,” he said. “I can’t. I can’t keep going, I can’t rule for that long even with Susan’s help. She’ll have to do it. She
He stopped, leaning farther out the window and squinting.
“Aurry, get over here,” he said. When she did, he pointed to the street. “What is that?”
She joined him, and with her sharper eyes she spotted men marching up the road toward the front of the castle. He estimated at least four hundred, maybe five. They waved no banners to show their allegiance, but their tunics looked familiar. He couldn’t place it, but Aurelia could.
“Kevin,” she said. “Those are Kevin Maryll’s men.”
The two shared a look. There was no valid reason for Kevin to be marching so many men into the castle. No reason but one. As they watched, craning their necks down and to the right so they might see, they noticed Kevin walked ahead of the throng, talking with the castle guards. As the doors opened to let him in, he stabbed one of the guards, then rushed inside. His soldiers followed, using their very bodies to prevent its closure. Harruq swore as he jerked his head back inside the room.
“Time to go,” Harruq said. “Make us a portal and take us somewhere far, far away.”
“What of Susan?” Aurelia asked as she began the motions with her hands.
“I’ll come back for her once you three are safe.”
Her look said she wasn’t happy with the idea of him remaining behind, but she focused on casting her spell. Harruq waited, expecting the familiar blue line to rip open before him, tearing into reality and creating a gateway to somewhere well-known to his wife. But instead nothing happened. He blinked, glanced around thinking he’d missed something.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Aurelia frowned, and her brow furrowed as she concentrated harder.
“Something is…strange,” she said. Again she tried casting the spell, and again nothing happened. Harruq watched, his anxiety increasing tenfold.
“I think I know what’s going on,” she said after a third time yielded similar results. To test, she went to the window. Ice surrounded her hand, forming into a thin lance that she hurled out the window toward the courtyard. Barely an inch beyond the window ledge the ice dissolved away as if it had never been. Harruq grimaced, confused but knowing that whatever it meant, it wasn’t good.
“The entire castle is surrounded by some sort of invisible…wall,” she explained. “No magical spell can make it through without disappating. Worse, it’s disrupting any sort of translocational magic. I’ve tried opening portals, even to somewhere inside the castle, but they won’t take. I can’t get us out, Harruq.”
He could only follow half of what she said, but he understood the deeper meaning behind it.
“Kevin’s ready for us,” Harruq said. “He knew you would be with me.”
The two shared a glance, each thinking the same thing. If Kevin was ready for them, if he’d gone through all the trouble to trap them there, then he wanted them for a reason. Most likely, he wanted them dead.
“He seeks the throne for himself,” Aurelia said. “We’re just obstacles in his way.”
“We’re more than obstacles.”
Harruq opened the door, to where the four guards waited. All four looked nervous.
“Steward,” one said. “We thought to interrupt, but weren’t sure.”
He didn’t need to ask about what. From the floor below they could hear the faint sounds of steel hitting steel. Kevin’s men were swarming the castle, killing all of the guards.
“We’ve been betrayed,” Harruq said. “All of you, get in here. Guard the little prince with your lives.”
Despite their apparent nervousness, the men saluted and hurried inside. Harruq glanced up and down the
