his feelings towards magicians. He will do that for me. We had a rocky friendship at the start, and he’s fiercely protective of his friends, but at some point, I earned that loyalty.
Golden eyes lock with mine, he reaches out and clasps my shoulder. “For you, chosen one, always.”
His stupid moniker for me makes me smile, breaking some of the tension inside me, and with a final look at my mates, I nod at Samson and walk towards the king.
It feels like the whole ballroom is holding its breath, as despite the orchestra playing, the only sounds I can hear are my own footsteps on the stone and the pounding of my heart.
The king is waiting for me at the base of the throne, his right hand resting on the pommel of his sword which is strapped to his waist. I pause when I reach him but don’t bother to bow. I simply look up at him with a raised eyebrow, Samson just a step behind me.
“Well, that was lovely,” the king drawls, rolling his eyes. I know exactly what he thinks of my little goodbye scene, but I don’t care. When I don’t react to his comment, he simply snorts and turns, gesturing for me to follow. “Come.”
Walking past the now empty thrones, I glance at the ballroom once again. Rhydian is nowhere to be seen, which isn’t a good sign, and there seem to be more priests than lords and ladies, but there’s nothing I can do about that now. I just have to hope that the mages have a strong enough shield to protect everyone. Behind the dais is a small, unadorned wooden door, and without checking to see if we’re following, the king disappears inside the dark space beyond it. Sharing a look with Samson, I take a deep breath and step through. I have to blink a few times as my eyes adjust to the sudden darkness, but as they do, I realise we’re in an empty corridor. It’s cold and damp in here, the only light coming from the open door behind us, and the single window at the far end of the corridor.
My heart pounds in my chest when I realise we’re alone. The king is gone. The corridor doesn’t seem to go anywhere, it’s just a long, narrow passage. Was this a trap? With my breathing starting to accelerate, I try to keep calm. Samson mutters something in a language I don’t recognise, and in the next moment, a ball of light appears in his palm. Instantly feeling my panic recede a little, I give him a grateful look, and we start to walk down the corridor once more. The king can’t have just disappeared, I reason, knowing there must be more to this than what meets the eye.
We’ve almost reached the window when I realise that part of the wall looks different. I reach out, and the wall gives way, the sticky feeling of magic coating my hand before revealing a room beyond.
“An illusion spell. They don’t usually react like this though. It must be an old one.” Samson sounds surprised, and I just nod in agreement, not bothering to tell him that I just shattered said spell with my gift.
Stepping into the room, we find the king waiting for us with a grin on his face. He’s eyeing the doorway where I just broke his spell, and his eyes are alight. I just confirmed his theory on how I escaped from the castle before. It was a trap, just not what I had been expecting, and because of that, I walked right into it.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare at the king. “Why am I here?” I demand, having had enough of his games. Turning my attention to the room, I search for clues. It looks like an old study. Two of the four walls are lined with bookshelves, and the others are covered with maps of Morrowmer. The king lounges in a large leather chair behind a wooden desk, but other than that, the room is empty. Something doesn’t add up. If it’s just a study, why would it be so well hidden? With no hints of why I’m here on display, I return my attention to the king. “Where’s Jacob?”
Relaxing back in his chair, the king places a letter on the desk. The script looks flowery and elegant, but I’m unable to read it, so I dismiss the parchment, not understanding how it could be relevant.