Wicked As You Wish (A Hundred Names for Magic #1) - Rin Chupeco Page 0,68

sighed.

“What about you?” Tala asked Loki.

“I don’t have as interesting a history as the rest of you.”

“That’s not true,” West protested. “Loki grew up in this amazing winter outlander place of magic. It’s called Canada.”

Zoe coughed loudly, swallowing another laugh.

“I was adopted, so I’m not technically Avalonian, though my fathers are,” Loki said, in their usual quiet manner. “My dad, Anthony, is Chinese though, like me.”

“Fathers? Oh. Oh.”

Loki smiled. “We used to camp out almost everywhere in Canada that could be explored, that’s not too cold. That’s why these forests feel familiar to me, even with the frost.”

“And I’m glad you’re here to lead the way, for one thing,” Zoe said, squinting up into the horizon. “Because without you, I doubt we would have made it all the way to the castle, we’d probably be lost. And unless I’m wrong, there’s a particularly angry-looking storm cloud heading our way. Let’s hope West’s right that it’s his uncle and not a hostile enemy waiting for us.”

Tala looked up, gulped. The castle was far more imposing and forbidding up close than it had been from a distance, looming before her like the shadow of a giant beast. It sat atop a grassy knoll and was made of rocky black granite. Centuries had weathered down the walls, leaving pockmarked wedges in the stone. A small flag flapped in the wind atop its highest turret.

“A plover, flying through a field of dragon green,” West explained. “Mother said no one else but my uncle uses that kind of dragon-green color on their coat of arms.”

“I’m just boggled by the fact you know the word for plover but not for castle,” Zoe murmured.

“Who goes there?” a voice called out in the semidarkness, alarmed. From the parapets Tala could make out the faint glow of torches above, and then there were silhouettes peering suspiciously down at them, heavy crossbows at the ready. The firebird flattened itself against Alex’s shoulder, trying to stay as unobtrusive as possible.

“Uncle Hiram?” West called out. “It’s me! West Eddings! Merriwick’s son!”

“Stay where you are,” the voice commanded. Feet shuffled as one of the shadows disappeared from view while the others remained watchful. A few minutes later, the footsteps returned. “West?” a new voice called down to them. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re lost, Uncle. We were hoping to stay the night.”

“Of course. Merriwick’s boy and his friends are always welcomed here.”

But when the castle gates opened, Tala saw a dozen or so fully armed knights marching out. Actual knights, with armor and helms and swords drawn and pointed at them and everything. There was a quick intake of breath from Zoe, and a gasp from Alex.

“Bloody Oz,” Ken muttered, the fingers of his right arm twitching. “I thought you were on good terms with your uncle.”

“I am.” West looked baffled.

“I’m not sure I want to know how he treats his enemies, then.”

“They’re literally dressed as knights.” Avalon had only been iced in the last dozen or so years, so finding its inhabitants dressed in feudal gear was alarming to Tala.

“My uncle follows the old ways,” West whispered. “Families like mine inherit bespelled items that were created hundreds of years ago, but most people don’t know how to reproduce the magic anymore. That’s why we use older weapons and armor instead of making newer spelltech that’s not as strong.”

“What West means,” Ken said, “is that this whole kingdom can easily be every Renaissance Faire enthusiast’s wet dream.”

A man strode into view, wearing a dark gray doublet and black breeches. His face was lined and careworn, making him look older, though he walked with a quickness that contradicted his apparent age.

“That’s my uncle,” West whispered, sounding startled. “The Count of Tintagel. But he doesn’t look it.”

“Explain.”

“He hasn’t aged since I last saw him.”

“That was a dozen years ago, and you were only four. Maybe you don’t remember him?”

“This will only take a second,” the man promised, turning to a torch-wielding knight. “Shine the light in their eyes.”

“Stay still,” Zoe suggested softly. “We’re not in a position to entertain misunderstandings.”

The knight stepped forward, taking West by the chin and thrusting the torch closer, peering intently at his eyes. One by one, the others were scrutinized in turn. Tala flinched as the fire drew closer.

“If you are who you say, Nephew, then His Highness and his firebird should be among you.” The knight reached for Alex and jumped back with a muttered oath as the firebird lifted its head, hissed once, and flared, surrounding them in