The Dragon's Heart Read online

  Alysha King

  The Dragon’s Heart

  The Rose Chronicles

  Copyright © 2019 by Alysha King

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  Alysha King asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  First edition

  ISBN: 978-0-6485003-2-2

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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  For my friends and family, whose lives have inspired me to no end.

  And in memory of my wonderful Aunty Liz —

  may you burn brighter than any star out there.

  Prologue

  I thought the fall of the Empire would make everything easier.

  I would have my family; I would be released from my defensive duties as a Seeker and perhaps even be able to live an almost normal life. I do not know which thought was more foolish — being able to leave the life of a Seeker behind, or ever being able to be anything that might resemble normal.

  Instead, everything has become so much more complicated. A number of senior Imperials managed to elude capture after Malevolence’s fall and escaped to the Dark Lands where they have more willing aid and allies. Worse still, lone rebels and rogue armies of creatures that had been given certain privileges under the Empire are now attacking unprotected villages. My parents are constantly being called to arms to fight these Imperial loyalists. I fear that, having just gotten them back, I may lose them again. It’s not that I lack faith in their abilities — their powers are almost unparalleled. It’s simply that I know the deceit and levels to which Imperials will sink. I should know this better than most…

  With no sense of loyalty or compassion for those he once considered allies, Jeremy Schultz used every vindictive source available to him to further the Empire. He’d used his ability to Shapeshift to impersonate someone I had held dear. He’d taken Ji’s face and used it against me. Hearing of his death, I had expected some kind of relief — I certainly felt no remorse. Instead, he has left even more questions in his wake. The pain he had caused certainly did not diminish with his departure, which for all concerned, has never been fully explained. There is a part of me which is almost anxious to know how he died, yet there is something within my heart which wills me to forget him, to be content with the fact that he is gone. It still confuses me.

  Jeremy is not the only Imperial who continues to aggrieve me. I am afraid to sleep, to even close my eyes for fear of being confronted yet again by Saar. He has not let on who he is or what his exact plans are but I know it is only a matter of time before he leaves the realm of dreams and confronts me in the real world. If he spoke the truth of his powers, there may be nothing that could stop him.

  I am yet to tell anyone about him. I am not sure, perhaps it is because I know so little about him, or maybe it is because he exists, for now, only in my mind and my dreams. What help could be afforded to me, when I can’t even be sure the threat is real? No. Perhaps the most I can do for now is to find out as much as I can about this Twilight Travelling and how I can control it. It is, after all, my power. If anything, with everything that is still going on, I should at least be able to have control over that.

  1

  Interrogation and Extinction

  The sound of dripping water echoed off the damp floor. The light from the single candle reflected eerily around the dull green cave, its long wax drippings flowing down the rock. The small pool that stretched along the far wall was still; only the smallest amount of candlelight shimmered across its surface in a vain effort to break through the oppressive darkness. Stalactites hung perilously from the low roof, long and sharp, bearing down on the cave’s single inhabitant. Bound only feet from the water, the mermaid’s head was bowed reverently, her only sound a slight rattle as her gills struggled for oxygen. Her long, blonde hair hung limp over her drooping shoulders, and a ringlet of tiny delicate shells clung lopsidedly to her crown. Her skin was dry and tight over the bones of her chest and her spine; salt encrusted and flaking in great web-like patterns. Her silvery-blue tail was dull and cracked, and dried blood clung to her scales like weather-born rust. The mermaid’s eyes were closed, her face drawn with pain and exhaustion.

  A drop of water slid down a stalactite, landing with a loud smack on the pool’s surface. The mermaid’s eyes snapped open, immediately alert. They flitted over the water’s surface then moved about the cave, searching. Her gaze paused on the cave’s dark entrance; she watched, waiting.

  She only had to wait a moment before it appeared.

  The figure was shrouded in a hooded travelling cloak, the hem brushing noiselessly along the floor. He stooped as he made his way slowly to the side of the small pool, sitting carefully on the edge of a large rock. The mermaid watched her visitor carefully, neither surprised nor wary. Instead, she observed him with growing defiance. For a tense moment, the pair simply stared at each other. Then, the visitor raised his hands and lowered his hood. A pair of silver eyes shone like the edge of a dagger, slashing through the semi-darkness. The corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk as he continued to eye the defiant mermaid at his feet. She narrowed her eyes ever so slightly, waiting.

  Finally, Saar spoke.

  “You’re not looking too well, Your Highness,” he said in a low voice, the smirk lingering on his lips. “Obviously land does not agree with you…”

  He cocked his head to the side, waiting for her to answer. The mermaid continued to stare.

  Saar turned his eyes to the pool of water, the surface still once more. He sighed melodramatically.

  “This needn’t be, Your Majesty. You needn’t suffer,” Saar whispered as he leant forward and ran his fingers over the surface of the water.

  The mermaid’s gaze was drawn by the ripples drifting lazily towards her, and her pulse quickened. She could hear it whisper, feel its pull. Her head spun with longing, but with great effort, she pulled her eyes from the pool and faced her tormentor once more. She took a short, rattling breath, trying to still her mind, and said nothing. Saar lifted his fingers from the water, droplets falling from the tips with soft plinks upon the rock. He moved closer to her, searching her face.

  “I admire you, My Queen. Your strength is truly admirable. But is this really necessary?”

  The mermaid was adamant in her silence, tightening her lips. Saar maintained his smirk, but his eyes flashed momentarily with annoyance. He drew closer, lifted a hand to her face and brushed aside strands of her salt-caked hair. She flinched as Saar gently stroked her dry flaking cheek, his damp fingers leaving a fleeting trail of jewel-bright colour across her moisture-starved skin. Her breath hitched, the coolness of the water awakening the primal urge within her that all mermaids felt for the ocean. Saar’s grin widened at her reaction and he held his fingers at her jaw, clearly relishing in the effect he was having upon her.

  “Such beauty. It is such a shame…” he purred, and her cheeks flared with humiliation.

  When she spoke, her voice was hushed from disuse, broken by the dryness that had taken her over.

  “Do not think that by appealing to my vanity you will draw what you need from me,” she croaked as her gills flapped desperately. Her head still swam with longing and it t
ook all her self-control to ignore the burning desire the water had invoked. She needed her wits about her. “My… physical deterioration is not nearly as disturbing to me as what my subsequent betrayal would be.”

  Her brilliant green eyes burned with such fervent determination that Saar’s confidence slipped along with his grin. Recovering from his moment of frustration, he diverted his attention, taking a piece of her hair in his fingers and twisting it almost absentmindedly. Salt coated his fingers at the touch, the tiny white flakes trickling to the floor. There was quiet again, the silence punctuated by the odd drip that resonated softly from somewhere within the cave.

  “I beg your forgiveness, Your Majesty. I was merely commenting. I would never believe such slight a compliment would compel you to speak,” Saar said, examining the tress in his hand with undue devotion.

  The mermaid’s lip curled in abhorrence at the thought of forgiveness and was very much on the verge of pulling away from him. However, she remained quite still, enduring his unwelcome touch. Saar spoke again.

  “My Queen, dear Asselia. Do not think that I am unaware of your situation,” he said in a hushed voice. “I cannot possibly imagine the inner turmoil you must be dealing with at this moment, the dilemma which you have been forced to face.”

  Queen Asselia’s eyes narrowed further.

  “Forgive me if I am wrong, but you are yet to name an heir, are you not?” Saar asked in an overly polite manner, continuing to examine the lock of hair entwined in his fingers. “A fairly important part of Mermaid hierarchy, no?”

  The mermaid queen’s breathing quickened but she did not concede. Saar dropped his hand and raised an eyebrow.

  “Now, my knowledge of mermaid lore may not be the most complete so please feel free to contradict me, but is it not said that should a queen die without either producing or naming an heir, then that queen’s clan shall perish along with her? My, what a terrible thing, being responsible for so many. You have certainly risked much, not doing so earlier. Why, look where you are now!” he said, indicating with a small flourish at the cramped little cave. “Is your clan not one of the largest in the realm?”

  Queen Asselia burned at his words and the flippant manner in which he spoke. She leant towards her captor, her breath short and sharp.

  “You knew the lore long before you lured me here. You created this. Your knowledge therefore comes as no true revelation,” she hissed.

  Saar’s face fell, his lips turning down in a pantomime of regret. He leant over again and this time dipped his entire hand below the surface of the water. Breathing hard now, the mermaid queen struggled to keep her mind from reeling, anger and fury burning alongside a deep and almost uncontrollable yearning. She pulled against the iron manacles clamped about her red and raw wrists, fighting against the urge to throw herself at this repugnant human. Saar’s burning silver eyes watched her despair with ill-disguised glee.

  “Then surely you know what will happen, should you fail to tell me what I want? Are you truly ready to sacrifice not only yourself but your entire clan for something as inconsequential as a fulfilled prophecy?” he asked, lifting his hand from the pool and raising it over the mermaid’s head.

  The water splashed down upon her and he watched as she writhed, fighting against its affects. Her body was ablaze, her mind torn asunder.

  “Stop,” she found herself begging, her voice rough. “Please…”

  His face was close to hers now, whispering softly in her ear, “Then end this. Why keep this going? I want only for the prophecy. After all, like I said, it has already been fulfilled, so there would be no harm—”

  “My clan needs me…”

  “And you know how to save them,” he purred, brushing her hair back from her taught face with his wet hand. “Besides, it is all in the past.”

  “It is not, though…”

  Queen Asselia’s eyes widened in horror as the words slipped from her mouth. She had not meant to say it, but the water… Confusion, fear, and dismay welled up inside her. Saar pulled away, triumph on his face.

  “Finally, something true. Thank you, My Queen.” He turned his head and looked at the wall, his eyes unfocused. “Not in the past, then, meaning she has not yet fulfilled the prophecy,” he said pensively. “I suppose this means that the Empress is not yet truly defeated. This is… good news…”

  Asselia fought back the tumult raging within her, her body shaking as she fixed Saar with a furious glare. She balled her fists in her metal cuffs and spat, “You know nothing of mermaid prophecies. If you knew the truth then you would have no need for me and you would have your answers. This is no more than a show of how truly limited your knowledge is.”

  Saar paused in his thoughts and smiled hopefully. “Then please, Asselia, enlighten me. Tell me the truth of your prophecies. As they say, the truth will set you free.”

  “Certainly not in this case. The truth will not be revealed by my tongue, no matter the threat.”

  And with this proclamation, Asselia fell silent once more. She shook from the effort of ignoring the trickling beads of water still coating her skin, but she remained defiant in her gaze.

  Saar waited, then sighed again, only this time in earnest.

  “As you wish, My Queen. It does not matter, though. All will proceed. Your silence was never going to stay my plans. Unfortunately, neither will it stay my hand. If you are willing to make this sacrifice, then at least it will not be on my conscience.”

  Queen Asselia straightened at these words, but Saar paid her no attention. He stood and straightened as much as he could before rearranging his hood so that only his luminous eyes were visible from beneath it. He gave the mermaid one last piercing look before turning for the entrance. The queen watched as he left. The oxygen passing through her gills was now sharp, almost cutting, and the droplets upon her scales were drying rapidly. There was almost no water left in her body. She knew she would not see him return.

  2

  Revelations

  The sound of metal upon stone reverberated around the high walls of the dungeon. Carey ducked just in time to miss the heavy spear as it swung over her head and hit the wall behind her. The ringing in her ears was deafening, but she ignored it. She retaliated with a swing of her sword, aiming at her opponent’s stomach, but he jumped back, just out of reach. With a quick shifting of his body, he swung his spear around for another attack, its tip barely missing her throat.

  Stumbling backwards, Carey gripped her sword tightly to stop it falling from her hand. Despite the cobbled ground, she found her footing and squared her shoulders, sword out in front. A bead of sweat slid down her cheek to catch on her upper lip, salt tingling on her tongue as she swiped it away.

  They faced each other, still for only a split second before he lunged at her again. Carey wasn’t quick enough, and the tip of his spear glanced across her cheek. In surprise, she lost her footing and fell into an awkward roll, only just managing to hold onto her sword. Sharp pain spiked through her elbows and knees as she crashed down, but she shook it off as she tried to correct her stance, knowing her attacker was right behind her. As she turned, he bore down on her, gleeful in his advantage. She threw her sword up and felt it shudder as it connected with the spear. It was mere inches from her face and her hands trembled, the force of her opponent’s weapon bearing down on her. Carey winced as her muscles trembled. Pushing his face close to hers, he grunted, “Give up?”

  Despite the pain, Carey gave a bark of laughter.

  “Not in this life.”

  With one swift movement, she curled her knee up into her chest and struck out at his kneecap. Her foot connected with a heavy crunch and he let out a cry of pain. Taking advantage of this moment of weakness, Carey jumped to her feet. Knocking aside his spear, she forced him to one knee, grabbed at his shirt, pulled his back against her chest and drew the blade of her sword across his throat.

  “Got you,” she hissed in his ear, and she could have sworn she saw the hint of a smile lift at the c
orner of his mouth.

  “Bravo, Carey!”

  The two combatants broke apart at the sound of applause. Carey lowered her weapon and wiped her brow, pushing back light brown hair from her face. A short, stout figure came in from her left, still clapping in apparent approval.

  “Very good work, I must say, very good. Been practising, Carey?” the sword master, Sir Garrow, inquired.

  “I’d have to say yes,” came an amused murmur from below.

  Ji was still on his knees, panting slightly from his recent defeat. Carey let out a small gasp.

  “Oh! Sorry Ji!” She apologised, holding out a hand.

  With a strange smirk on his lips, Ji reached out and Carey pulled him to his feet. Her hand tingled slightly as she glanced up at his face, his rumpled brown hair falling over his clouded blue eyes as they gazed just past her left ear. An instant later, however, he had relinquished his grip, his head turned towards the sword master. Carey felt her face flush, her cheeks burning as she turned from him, sheathing her blade aggressively. Jaw clenched, she strode from the training floor, brushing her hair back. Sir Garrow signalled to Kat who had been watching their spar eagerly from the sideline. She smiled at Carey as she walked onto the floor, her dark wavy hair bouncing about her shoulders. She was decked out in her favourite sparring gear — a thick leather corset over a loose top with billowing sleeves, fitted pants and high black boots. A small scarf was knotted at her throat, covering the goat’s head brand placed there by Imperials. Carey thought she looked rather like a pirate. At least, those she had seen in books.

  “Good fight, Carey. He almost had you though,” Kat noted as she pulled out her weapons of choice — a pair of long, pointed sai, each fashioned with three viscious-looking prongs — and twirled them expertly in her hands.

  Carey nodded slightly. “Almost. You’ve got a challenge on your hands.”