Fear of Fire and Shadow (The Fade #1) - Samantha Young Page 0,4
it is. Thank you, Rogan.”
He pulled the rope by the door and a brass bell rang. We heard hurried footsteps and then the door was thrust open by an older man. He was tall and imposing.
“Can I help?” he queried warily.
“I am Vikomt Syracen Stovia of the Rada. May I come in, Mr. Rosonia?”
Rosonia’s eyes widened but he nodded, his oil lamp casting his profile against the shadows of the wall. Stovia turned and nodded at two guards who strode forward to follow at his back. He pushed me past the threshold and into the shop. Sadist. He wanted me to witness this.
Once inside, Rosonia stood with a stout, middle-aged woman who appeared frightened, clutching her robes tightly around her. Two girls stood behind them, one a tall, attractive girl, possibly around thirteen or fourteen years of age. Clutching her hand was Valena, small and frightened, her large, dark eyes too big for her face.
“I come bearing sad news.” Stovia emanated power and intimidation. “The kral is dead.”
The Rosonias gasped at the news.
“Yes. I am afraid it is true. Princezna Haydyn is now alone in the world, the weight of carrying the load of Dyzvati too great for her young shoulders. As the only mage upon the Rada, I felt it was my duty to seek whatever Her Highness needs to aid her in her mighty responsibilities.”
“What can we do to help, my lord?” Valena’s father asked eagerly, his eyes full of genuine sadness for the kral.
“Very little magic remains in our world. However, I’ve been collecting the strongest of that which does. Here.” He put his deadly hand upon my shoulder and I fought not to shiver. “This is one of the Azyl, thought to be extinct. But she found you well enough.”
Mrs. Rosonia gasped at my bloodied appearance. “What happened to the child?”
“One of my soldiers. He has been dealt with,” Stovia lied smoothly. “But you have in your keeping someone who could help my little Rogan.”
“Mama.” The elder girl drew Valena closer. “Don’t.”
“Valena.” Mr. Rosonia exhaled heavily. “She is one of the Dravilec, then?”
“You had your suspicions?” Stovia asked.
Valena’s father nodded.
“She is needed. Your daughter is needed by her people.”
“You want to take her?” Mrs. Rosonia’s voice trembled.
Stovia smiled. “She will be well cared for at the palace. And you may visit. She will be taught by the Royal Dravilec how to use her power. She is strong. I could taste her energy from Sabithia, it was so strong.”
The Rosonias stood in silence for a moment, mother and father silently communicating with one another. Finally, Valena’s father turned to Stovia and nodded. “You may take her, my lord.”
I gasped in outrage. My parents had died rather than see me in the hands of this snake of a man. And I wasn’t the only one outraged. The elder girl shrieked and grabbed Valena to her, refusing to release her. Valena screamed and cried, terrified and confused.
Mr. Rosonia wrenched Valena free, and his wife took her upstairs to ready her for departure. She returned quickly with the little girl dressed for traveling. All the while, she cried. Her mother hugged her, quiet tears rolling down her cheeks as her daughter clung tightly. Mr. Rosonia came over and pulled Valena away, ignoring his elder daughter who sobbed from the corner of the room. Mr. Rosonia kissed Valena’s cheeks and promised he would see her soon. Then he handed her into the arms of Syracen Stovia.
Sensing what only children could, she shrieked and writhed to escape. Careful to hide his disgust, Stovia thrust the squalling six-year-old into my arms. I pressed her close, ashamed for my part in this. Valena stopped struggling and instead looped her little arms around my neck, her legs around my waist, and bawled into my shoulder. A memory of my little brother doing the same not too many weeks ago when he had fallen from a tree and cut his leg flashed through my mind, and I squeezed the girl closer, as if I alone could protect her.
Stovia hurried us out of the house, and we walked a distance away to the bridge that would take us out of the village.
“Lieutenant Sandstone,” Stovia called, and the soldier trotted forward on his horse. “Take Valena. I can’t carry the two on my horse.”
Sandstone dismounted and tried to pry Valena from me. The girl screamed, her tiny hands gripped to my cloak, my hair, refusing to budge. And even though I winced at her tight hold, I declined