Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Thalia

Istride out of my house, locking the door behind me. My possessions include the clothes on my back—jeans, an olive-green work shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and my cowboy boots—and a pack filled with other clothing essentials more practical than my usual royal attire. I’m heading back to war, and I have no intention of sitting in my princess tower to watch things unfurl.

By the gods, I’ve lived the last seven years running a horse ranch on my own. I’m capable of far more than just wearing a crown.

I’m going to be in the thick of it.

With my hair in a low ponytail under my favorite Stetson, I head toward the barn. Immediately, Bastien appears out of the shadows to walk by my side. He’s vigilant for potential danger as noted by his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, but I’m going to assume no further attacks will come tonight. Only when Ferelith’s erchras fail to return with the prize—which is probably my head—will she know she’s failed.

Speaking of which, “Why did Ferelith send erchras to bring me back?”

The erchras are Underworld demons that can be conjured with dark magic, something I’d learned about in my studies growing up. But they’re not the smartest beings and are easily duped.

“I’m guessing she didn’t care if they brought you back,” Bastien replies curtly as we reach the barn. “I suspect they had orders to make a meal of you.”

I shudder at the thought. Had Bastien and Kieran not shown up, I would be dead. No matter how good I am with a gun or how smart I am, there were three of them. I wouldn’t have survived.

Kieran leans against a stall door watching us approach. “I didn’t know which horse you rode so I wasn’t sure who to saddle for you. We can tether the others to follow us through the veil when we go back.”

“No need,” I reply, dropping my backpack at King’s stall. “I’m only bringing my horse. I’ve arranged care for the others.”

In that fifteen-minute window Bastien gave me to make up my mind and pack, I used a precious five minutes to call my ranch manager and explain I had to go on an unexpected trip. He’s more than equipped to run things in my absence, has full access to the business books so he can make deposits and pay bills, and I know he’ll care for everything with as much dedication as I do.

“I assumed you’d want your horses,” Bastien muses as he watches me saddle King.

“I do want them,” I reply, tightening the cinch. “I’m coming back once this is all over. My ranch manager will handle things in my absence.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bastien scoffs. “You’ll be crowned queen of Vyronas once we defeat Ferelith.”

“I’ll abdicate.” I bridle King, slipping the bit in his mouth and pulling the crown over his ears. “Archer would take on the responsibility with pride.”

Archer, my one and only cousin whose blood flows thick with Clairmont magic, would be the next logical successor.

“But why?” Kieran asks, frowning at me.

I spare him a glance as I grab my backpack, shrugging it onto my shoulders. I marvel at how much the brothers look alike. Kieran is two years younger than Bastien, but they could be twins if you looked past the differences in hair color and length. Despite being so similar in features, you can tell them apart by their bearing. Kieran, the youngest son of House Dunne, carries himself with an easy grace and usually has a light smile on his face. Bastien often moves as if he has the weight of the world upon his massive shoulders. He’s slated to take over as commandant of the army when his father retires, and he has big shoes to fill.

I refuse to answer Kieran’s question. My plans are none of their business. They don’t need to know that my feelings have been deeply hurt, not just by Bastien sending me through the veil and stripping me of my memories, but by the Conclave conspiring against my wishes. They are the people I trusted most with my well-being, and they didn’t respect me enough to let me stay. My parents are dead, I have no siblings, and my relationship with Bastien is ruined.

I have no reason to stay in Vyronas, and my life here in the solitude of Wyoming is far preferable now.

“I’m ready,” I say as I take King’s bridle in one hand so we don’t get separated as we make the journey through the veil and back to Vyronas.

Sparing a glance at Bastien, I can see he’s not happy with my attitude and is probably dismissing my promise to abdicate.

It doesn’t matter.

Bastien doesn’t matter to me anymore, and I ignore the ache in my chest produced by that acknowledgment.

Closing his eyes, Bastien begins chanting, his words too low to hear. The wind kicks up and King rears slightly, surely a little spooked, but Kieran puts a hand to his neck and murmurs to calm his nerves. Then I feel the tugging on my body. Glancing over my shoulder at my house, tears sting and my nose prickles with sadness. Half an hour ago, this was my everything. I didn’t know there was anything else out there for me.

Had I come here willingly and known that the Bastien I’d loved with all my heart would be there for me when I returned, I wouldn’t hesitate to say goodbye to this place.

But as it stands, the only goodness in my life is this ranch. It’s duty that calls me back to Vyronas, but I’ll be leaving my heart here and hope to be reunited with it soon.

As my house and the majestic Tetons behind it fade, other things start to come into focus. A warm breeze, the smell of pressian flowers, and a small creek babbling cheerfully.

Although I was born and raised in Vyronas, having lived there for twenty years before being sent to the First Dimension, I had forgotten how beautiful it is. For the last seven years, I’ve had the majesty of the Tetons to inspire me. Valleys of prairie grass and sagebrush, gray, craggy, snow-capped mountains, and skies so blue you could almost believe that no other color had the right to exist… it was what I thought the most beautiful place in the world.

But it just can’t compare to the magic that infuses Vyronas, making everything sparkle with brilliance. Before me stretches rolling hills of verdant grass that would feel like velvet to walk upon with bare feet. The stream is so clear, I can see the brightly colored pebbles that look like spilled jewels and fish of vibrant oranges, yellows, and blues darting about.

Pressian trees dot the landscape, the shimmering white bark lending them the name “ghost trees,” but I love them for their fragrance. Oh, we have the same trees you’d see in the First Dimension—sprawling oaks, graceful willows, and towering pines—but the pressians are original to Vyronas, and it’s the biggest sign that I am home.

I inhale deeply, and despite my plans to return to Wyoming, I immediately feel secure and settled here.

Time moves differently among the various dimensions as some have their own suns and moons. It can alter dates and time when traveling. Although it was evening when we left Wyoming, it’s just after midday here, the sun directly overhead. The multicolored sky is a blend of light blues, peaches, and creams, its sun nothing like that of the First Dimension, which can be blistering and too bright to look at. Vyronas’s sun is a pale pink, and the rays lend a pearly shimmer to the air and inspire the clouds to glow. I stare directly at it without the need to squint or shield my face.

I can’t wait for evening as the night moon is of the same blush. It isn’t governed by tides or the rotation of the planet. It’s always full and bright but gently illuminating.

I take another deep breath and smile. Vyronas has its own scent that’s fresh, light, and sweet.

“Welcome home, Thalia,” Kieran says as he grins at me over King’s neck.

Not willing to commit that I’m definitely feeling all kinds of nostalgia, I release King’s reins and move over to the small stream that cuts through the grass, shaded by ancient oaks.

Squatting, I reach into the cool water to pick up an azure-colored pebble. I study it briefly and then open my senses.

Not to the water’s music or the fragrance of flowers, but to the magic I felt prickling at me the minute I stepped foot in this dimension. Oh gods, I’ve missed this feeling. Didn’t realize how dull I’d felt in body and spirit while in Wyoming until this very moment as it zings within me, looking for release.

With the stone in my palm, I lower my hand into the water and with only my vision for the beauty I seek to create, the pebble grows, morphs, and slides free of my hand as a newly formed fish of sparkling blue.

“We don’t have time to dawdle,” Bastien grouses, and I have half a mind to ignore him.

Instead, I stand and face him, lifting my chin. “I am your ruling sovereign. You came asking for my leadership. I demand you speak to me with the respect my position affords me.”

If I expected that to put him in his place, it has no such effect. The corner of his lip curls as if he’s the one who should be offended. “Start acting like half the sovereign your mother and father were, and I might consider it.”

“Bastien,” Kieran chides, but that seems to infuriate Bastien even more.

“No,” he barks, looking from his brother to me. “Now that she has her memories back, she knows what she has to do. She needs to step up, and that doesn’t mean putting on an air of superiority to make herself feel better because her feelings got hurt.”

I stare at this man who I had loved to the depths of my soul. To me, it was just hours ago that he broke my heart—my memories were gone, and I knew no better.

And now, he’s an absolute stranger. He’s scary and a bit cruel, and he looks like all the happiness and joy for life have been sucked out of him. How in the hell did this happen?

I suppose it’s fitting it all came crashing down as fast as it did. It took eight-year-old me all of five minutes to fall in love with him. Granted, an eight-year-old doesn’t know much about love, but from our first meeting, I worshipped the ground Bastien walked on…

I’d just turned eight years old and being heir to the sovereign throne of Vyronas had already put quite a burden on my young shoulders. Oh, it’s not that my ultimate duties of ruling and protecting my people were bothering me at that tender age, but rather the burden of being unpopular with the other children.

My parents always encouraged me to just be a kid, and that included playing with whomever I wanted. They did not want me segregated to only hang out with the royals and upper class, as they wanted me to know and love all the people.

Even though my parents had given me the freedom to be a regular kid, I’d never been seen that way by the others. They wanted nothing to do with me. I had no friends, other than my cousin, but he often traveled with his parents and wasn’t always in residence at the castle in Kestevayne.

Eight was old enough to know the other kids were jealous of the privilege being a royal brought to my life. But I couldn’t change my circumstances. My family was wealthy, our magic was the strongest, and we lived in a palace. It made forging friendships almost impossible.

On a beautiful spring day, I followed a group of kids of varying ages as they headed to play in a meadow east of the palace, yet still inside the city walls. The kids were from diverse backgrounds, poor and rich alike. They got along well, which confused me as to why they wouldn’t accept me into their group.

Some of the kids came from working-class families with parents who were farmers, butchers, potion makers, and the like. Others came from the maiorn caste, which ranked above the working class but were not of royal lineage. These families owned land and high-profit businesses, and oversaw the running of the towns and cities on their lands outside Kestevayne. The maiorn swore allegiance to Kestevayne, and while they had a military force of their own, they were also under the protection of the Kestevayne army.

The remaining kids were from the warrior caste of Kestevayne. While not part of the royal family, they were about as close to royalty as one could get. Their duties were to protect Kestevayne, its citizens, and the royal family. It was a great honor to be part of the warrior caste, and their magic was just as strong as the Scrinia.

On that spring day, we’d gathered about twenty kids in all and discussed what to do for the day. Even though we were a realm of peace and prosperity and crime was almost nonexistent, I was always under the watchful eye of palace guards. Thankfully, they stood well back and pretended to be oblivious to us.

Some of the kids that day wanted to go fishing, while others wanted to play a sporting game. I stood on the fringes watching the discussion, but I didn’t participate in the choice. I was just happy to be there for the chance to play with them. I was happy not to be kicked out, not that the kids would do that. As a royal, they were forced to accept me, and I know most of them hated it.

When they finally settled on fishing, I decided that was my chance to be of true benefit to the group, which would in turn help them accept me.

“We could go fishing on Parness Creek,” I suggested.

All the kids turned to look at me. By the expressions on their faces, I could tell they were stunned I’d spoken.

“Sure,” one girl drawled haughtily. She was a few years older than me, and her name was Ralina Batton. I had thought she was the most beautiful of all the girls, with pale-blond hair that was almost white. She sneered at me. “We can just go fishing on royal land because you say so. In fact, I bet everyone in Kestevayne is invited, and we can all wear our jewels while we fish.”

The other kids snickered, and I blushed hot that she wasn’t trusting my offer as genuine.

“No, really,” I continued tremulously. “My father will be more than glad to let us go fishing there. It has some of the biggest and best fish in the area.”

An older boy, Barney, pushed through the others, coming to stand in front of me. His dad had a large farm a few miles from the palace. I often rode my horse that way—with guards, of course—and Barney’s dad always offered a friendly wave. Barney, however, was not so friendly. There had been times he tripped me as I walked by or pinched my arm if we were standing close to each other in a crowd.

Looking down at me, Barney glared fiercely. “We don’t need your generosity, little princess. Why don’t you just get out of here?”

Ralina moved beside Barney. “Don’t you get it? We don’t want your uppity ass around us.”

“But I just wanted to play with you and be a part of your group.” I could feel tears welling but I refused to let them fall.

“That’s right,” Barney agreed, puffing out his chest, most likely trying to impress Ralina. “We don’t want your snotty ass around us.”

Barney then pushed me in the chest, sending me sprawling, and I landed hard on my butt. The fall didn’t hurt much, but my pride was taking a beating.

Before I could think of anything to say, or even pick myself up off the ground, another boy, this one larger than the rest, came out of nowhere. With no warning at all, he punched Barney in the face. The hit had so much force that Barney’s feet flew out from under him, and he landed flat on his back.

I jerked my gaze up toward my protector. He was so tall, I had to tip my head way back.

And then I recognized him. Holy magics! It was Bastien Dunne. His father, Graeme Dunne, was the commandant of the Kestevayne army, the highest rank of the warrior caste.

I was awestruck to see Bastien there, as he was not part of our play group. He was older than us—thirteen at the time—and even at that tender age was in training for a life within the army. He lived in the palace walls in the military dormitories, and I often saw him in passing.

But we’d never spoken.

“What the hell did you do that for, Bastien?” Barney asked, slurring his words thanks to his newly split lip.

“I did that,” Bastien gritted out angrily, fists still clenched, “because you don’t push or hit a girl. If I ever see you touch her again, I’ll do worse.”

There was such fury in Bastien’s voice, it actually scared me a little. All the other kids took a few steps backward.

And what struck me the most was that he wasn’t defending me as a royal, as a princess who demanded respect because of my title.

He was defending me as a girl. An ordinary kid.

I finally felt seen.

With that, Bastien turned from the other kids and strode over to me, still on the ground. I watched him warily as he approached. He gave me a small smile, holding out his hand. I took it, and he hauled me up. “Are you hurt?”

I couldn’t find my voice, so I shook my head. He smiled again, with more warmth this time, and all my fear slipped away.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us,” Bastien said to the group, tucking my hand into his elbow, “I’m going to accept Thalia’s invitation. We’ll be fishing on Parness Creek if anyone asks.”

I was so stunned, I had no choice but to follow him as he led us off toward the stables where we’d get horses to hasten our travel. The best fishing hole was over a mile away.

I heard Ralina call out, “I’d like to go too.”

“Sorry,” he yelled back over his shoulder. “You’re not invited.”

And at that moment, I fell in love with Bastien Dunne.

I watch Bastien’sretreating form, and with a sigh move back to King to take his reins.

From that day he punched Barney, never once did Bastien treat me differently because I bore the title of princess. From that day forward—and from that kind act of proclaiming me as his friend—it was amazing how many of the other kids wanted to be my friend as well. The petty part of me wanted to ignore them all and just be friends with Bastien, but even then I’d known it would be wrong.

I don’t see a glimmer of that boy within the man today. He was there just before he sent me through the veil, but whatever happened in the last seven years, that kind spirit was no longer.

Kieran and I walk after Bastien. “Our stronghold is just up ahead.”

“Are we still in the same spot?” I ask. I don’t quite recognize where we are. We’d been at the base of the Rosethorn Mountains when I was sent through the veil.

“No,” Kieran says grimly. “Ferelith’s forces were spreading out from Kestevayne, and we were losing the skirmishes. We moved south of the Rosethorns by about a hundred miles. She’s not ventured this far south yet, instead concentrating on the northern and eastern regions first. We’ve split up our army, though, moved them around, which makes cloaking easier and doesn’t strain the ley lines. It allows us to engage her soldiers in smaller battles, but we’re doing nothing more than making dents.”

“Makes sense to move here.” The land south of the Rosethorns is mostly uninhabited, and there’s nothing for Ferelith to conquer except our army. There are easier targets north and east of Kestevayne. “What can I expect when we get to camp?”

“I’ll get you settled in your quarters, then I’m sure the Conclave will want to meet with you. They have no clue we even went to get you.”

“I’m sure they’ll be shocked to see me,” I reply with a mirthless chuckle. “I’m assuming your father will be there?”

It’s funny how easy it is, slipping back into business mode. My parents may have sat on the thrones, but from an early age, I was trained and prepared to take over their duties.

Ruling Vyronas was done via a trifecta of wisdom and power: the monarchs, the Conclave, and the warrior caste. As commandant of the army, Kieran and Bastien’s father, Graeme, would be at any important meetings, and I suppose my return could be considered important.

Kieran doesn’t answer, so I glance over King’s neck at him as we walk along. His eyes darken and his mouth draws downward. He merely gives me a small shake of his head.

My heart sinks at the implication. Graeme is dead.

I stop walking, my hand on King’s bridle to hold him in place. “I’m so sorry, Kieran. What happened?”

“Two years ago, he was leading an attack against Ferelith’s forces at Ciarta. They’re equipped with magic far superior to ours, and well… it was bad.”

My mind races. Magic far superior? But how? House Clairmont and its own armies were the mightiest. It’s why we held the throne.

“And Bastien?” I immediately ache for him, even if he’s given me no reason to feel for him at all since my return.

“He’s now the commandant of our forces, so to answer your question… he’ll be there when you meet the Conclave.”

That thought doesn’t please me, but I push it aside, reaching out to Kieran. He’s my friend and always has been, and I hurt for him. “I’m truly sorry about your father. He was a great man.”

“Yes, he was,” he agrees fondly, giving me a quick squeeze. “And so is Bastien, no matter what you might think.”

“He’s changed,” I say flatly as I start King moving again. There’s nothing great about Bastien other than his size.

“It’s complicated, but I would urge you to keep an open mind. I’m sure the Conclave will explain things.”

I want to ask all the questions now and demand Kieran give me every bit of information so I know what happened to his brother. I should be worried about my country and the people suffering, but now I suspect there’s way more to Bastien’s complete personality change. And when I learn the truth of it, I fear it will hurt worse than what I feel now.