04 Silence Page 3

  “My tower?” Briony looked at it with shock. “All this is for me?”

  Archer nodded. “When your Aunt Sophie came through and told us of you, the King had a tower set aside for your use. He knew you would come. Come on, I’ll show you around.”

  “I can hardly believe all this,” Briony said.

  “It’s as real as I am,” Archer pointed out. “Now come on. I’ll have to rush the tour as it is.”

  Archer offered her his arm, and Briony surprised herself by taking it. He led her through opulent rooms, decorated with more wealth than Briony had seen in her life. “This is the bedroom, and here is the receiving room, and the solarium, and some quarters for your servants.”

  “Servants?”

  Archer seemed to enjoy Briony’s slight discomfort at that. “Oh, you’ll need some servants. Can’t have a princess without servants. Pages and butlers and maids and…”

  “Archer.”

  “Oh, all right. Now, Prince Vigor’s tower is over on the other side, while your father’s is in the center. I should probably take you straight to him. I know he’ll want to see you. Just… try not to pay too much attention to the Prince, all right?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Oh, he probably just won’t be that happy to see you.”

  “And will the King?” Briony decided that she wouldn’t call him her father. That still felt too much like a slight to the man who had raised her as his own.

  “Of course he will,” Archer promised. “Now come on. Everyone will know we have arrived by now, and we wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.”

  Chapter 4

  The journey across the bridges between the towers was actually scarier in its way than riding on Archer’s back had been. There, Briony had possessed no way to hold onto him, but she had still felt safe. They had been flying, and Briony had felt that everything was under control. This, on the other hand, was just a long way up.

  Archer, seeming to sense Briony’s discomfort, was quick to distract her, starting to talk about the buildings around them and why they were constructed in the way that they were.

  “The towers are separate and walled off to make them easier to defend if they are ever attacked,” he said. “You would have to take each courtyard and tower separately if you were trying to get in.”

  “What about the bridges?” Briony asked, forcing herself to keep walking along the marble span as though there were nothing wrong at all.

  “Partly, they’re to make it easy to get from place to place without having to go up and down a lot of stairs, but they’re also a protection. They’re like a marble web over the ground to slow down dragons and other flying creatures. We can land on the top levels, but if we want to go lower, we have to pick our way very carefully.”

  That made some sense to Briony, although it did raise one or two obvious worries. Before this, she had thought that Palisor would be a place of peace, yet no one constructed castles this well without at least some threat of violence hanging in the background.

  Briony found herself hoping that she wasn’t walking into more trouble than Archer and the others had let on.

  That thought distracted her until the end of the bridge, where a large pair of double doors sat. Archer opened them, revealing a large, circular room. Other doors led into it, equally spaced around the edge, while stairs sat at one side, leading both up and down.

  They went upwards first, climbing two flights of stairs to arrive in what could only be a throne room.

  The chair at the center was raised on a circular dais, and worked with both gold and velvet until it almost shone. The rest of the floor was a mosaic depicting creatures Briony would have thought of as mythical; everything from dragons to mer-folk. Windows around the room’s edge provided a view out both the surrounding landscape and the rest of the towers.

  From where she was, Briony could see that this was easily the tallest.

  “If this is the throne room,” Briony asked, “Where’s the King?”

  Archer thought for a moment. “There aren’t even any guards here, and there should be. I think we should hurry to the King’s chambers, Briony.”

  “Why?”

  “Leytham told you that his brother is old even by Hugtandalfer standards? Well, when I left, he was not well, and if even the throne room is deserted, things must be serious.”

  “If it’s that serious,” Briony pointed out, “will he even want to see me?”

  Archer took her hand and squeezed it. “He’ll want to see you.”

  Archer led the way back down the tower. King Waltham’s chambers were about halfway up, apparently, at the very heart of the place. As they made their way down, Briony couldn’t help noticing that every level seemed to be decorated in a different way. One would be hung with portraits, and covered in deep carpet, while the next would have walls that seemed to glitter and reflect light onto carefully placed sculptures that seemed to be in glass.

  “All the great artists of the Kingdom wanted the job the last time the King redecorated,” Archer explained without being asked. “Rather than cause an argument, his majesty gave them a level each to do, and made a competition of it.”

  “It sounds like a wise move,” Briony said.

  Archer nodded. “It was.”

  Finally, they came to the level they wanted. It was decorated mostly in white and gold, with banners around the walls and golden designs worked into a white marble floor. There were people there too.

  Dozens of them. Hugtandalfer guards stood by the stairs, watchful as Briony and Archer descended.

  Servants rushed back and forth, fetching and carrying.

  Most of the people there though seemed to be nobles of some sort, wealthily dressed Hugtandalfer men and women standing and apparently waiting for something. They were all beautiful, all seemingly young, and all surprisingly hushed. It seemed that whatever was going on was serious.

  Briony heard a ripple of whispering go through them as she entered. Then, almost as one, they stepped back to reveal a large bed, draped in layers of sheets. A figure sat up in that bed. In human terms, he would have looked no more than forty, but the youth of everyone else around him made that seem ancient by comparison. Of course, if what Aunt Sophie’s father had said was true, he was ancient.

  Briony edged forward, hardly daring to move too quickly. There were more whispers from the crowd as Briony did so, and Briony could only hope that they weren’t being too unkind about her. Though right then, she probably had bigger things to worry about. She was, after all, about to meet her biological father for the first time.

  It seemed to take forever to cover those last few steps. Probably because Briony was so nervous by then that she could hardly bring herself to put one foot in front of the other. It didn’t help that Archer had abandoned her somewhere along the way, stepping back into the surrounding crowd. He presumably thought that this was something Briony needed to do alone. He was probably right, though that didn’t make the walk to the bed, with so many eyes on Briony, feel any better.

  As Briony approached, the man in the bed, the King, opened his eyes. There was a sense of strength in those eyes that didn’t come through in the rest of him. Not just lying there. Yet in that gaze there was age, and weight, and authority. In that one moment, it was easy for Briony to see how the deathly ill man before her might have ruled a kingdom.

  Briefly, Briony wondered whether she should be curtseying. After all, this was a king. But the Hugtandalfer before her just smiled and reached out a hand to take Briony’s. His grip was soft, but insistent, as though he wanted to make sure that Briony was real.

  “You know who I am, child?” The words had a kind of fragile warmth to them, as though the King wanted to be able to stand and enfold her in his arms, but simply didn’t have the strength for it anymore.

  Briony nodded. “King Waltham. My… father.”

  “Yes. You have no idea how good it is to hear thos
e words. And you are Briony. My child. My daughter. My heir.”

  “Heir!”

  That came from the crowd of fanged elves behind them, and Briony turned at the sound. The group parted to reveal a male Hugtandalfer, as young-looking as they all were, his long, straight hair divided into black and white stripes that fell well past the shoulders of the sky blue tunic he wore. His eyes were a brilliant silver, standing out against his high cheekbones, aquiline nose, and full lips. He was broad-shouldered, but moved with sure-footed grace as he stepped forward.

  He was, Briony decided, quite possibly the most gorgeous young man she had ever seen. And, given the amount of time she had spent around Kevin and Fallon, she had plenty to compare him to. Only the look he gave Briony as he stepped closer spoiled the effect a little. It was a look, not just of pride, but of contempt for her too. Apparently, this young Hugtandalfer really didn’t like her.

  King Waltham sat up a little straighter. “You have something to say, Vigor?”

  Briony guessed she should have known.

  The Prince shook his head. “No, father.” The second word sounded very deliberate, as though Vigor was anxious to reinforce the connection.

  “Then you should come here and meet your long-lost sister, shouldn’t you?”

  The young man hesitated, his gaze flicking from King Waltham to Briony.

  “So you do have something to say?” the King asked, when the Prince didn’t come any closer.

  Vigor nodded. “Yes. Yes, I do.” He looked Briony over from head to toe, and Briony had to force herself not to wilt under the sheer intensity of that stare. It was a probing thing. Practically an intrusion.

  “She’s human.”

  “Briony is one of us,” King Waltham said.

  “If she’s Hugtandalfer, than why doesn’t she resemble us? Why does she look like… this?” Vigor gestured to her. “Sister indeed!”

  Briony bristled at that. Who did this boy think he was? “Brother indeed!” she shot back. “I have a brother named Jake already, and from what I’ve seen even in the last minute or two, he’s more suited to ruling anything than you.”

  “You dare question my suitability?” Vigor glowered at her.

  Briony looked at the crowd around them. They were looking on with interest. It occurred to Briony that she might have gone too far, but by that point, it was too late to back down.

  “You’re right,” she said. “I’m not your sister. After all, we aren’t related by blood, are we?”

  The King raised an eyebrow. “Where did you hear that, Briony?”

  Briony shrugged. She didn’t want to get Leytham into trouble. “Vigor is adopted, isn’t he? So we aren’t of the same blood.”

  Briony saw all the eyes in the room turn to the Prince. Apparently, the nobles there were waiting to see what his response would be. Though for a second or two, all he did was stand there in silent fury.

  “It is true that Vigor is adopted,” King Waltham said, apparently attempting to defuse the situation, “but I have raised him in my court. I have named him as my son in every sense but blood. Now, let it rest.”

  “I am more fit to be king than this little girl,” Vigor snapped, ignoring King Waltham.

  “Let it rest,” King Waltham said. In that instant, there was real power in the King’s voice. “As for who is fit, that is something we shall see. It is not a discussion for now. Now is the time for welcoming your sister back from the other lands. Give her the kiss of greeting, son.”

  That was one of the more awkward moments of Briony’s life. And of Vigor’s too, if she was any judge.

  The Prince moved forward reluctantly and kissed her briefly on both cheeks. Given how handsome he was, it might have been pleasant under other circumstances, but right then, all Briony could think of was how much trouble she had managed to get herself into this time.

  So she’d found a family on a different world.

  That didn’t mean much when her new father was dying, her new adopted brother clearly hated her, and she was about to be dropped into the middle of some kind of battle for succession. Even the vampires of Wicked were better than that. In fact, Briony decided in that moment, the best thing she could possibly do right then was to get as far away from the whole place as possible.

  She needed to go home.

  Chapter 5

  Perhaps Archer sensed how Briony was feeling right then. Perhaps he had simply spent enough time watching her to guess. Either way, he moved forward to take her hand. Briony started slightly at the sudden contact, as well as looking around at the crowd of Hugtandalfers occupying the royal apartment.

  What would they think, seeing the dragon shifter rush forward to comfort her like that?

  Right then, with Vigor still looking at her with less than friendly eyes, and her Hugtandalfer father staring up at her from his sickbed, Briony wasn’t sure that she cared. Archer might technically have been just as much a part of this strange world as any of the others, but right then, he felt like a link back to Wicked.

  Back to home.

  “Your majesty,” Archer said, “forgive me, but with the Princess so soon arrived from her home, she must be tired by now. Perhaps we could have your permission to retire so that she might rest?”

  Briony had never heard anyone speak quite that formally before. Then again, that was probably the kind of thing that you had to put up with around royalty.

  Which could be a problem if she was supposed to be royalty now. Briefly, Briony had a vision of courtiers flocking around her, speaking to her like something out of a Jane Austen novel. This was too strange, and it felt like she was acting out some kind of role in her theater class, but one look at the dragon shifter besides her, the fanged elf brother glowering at her, and the crowd of royal fanged elves in the room, she knew as much the first time she realized vampires were real in her world, that all this was real, too.

  After all, she had entered this strange new world, this beautiful, but somewhat dangerous world straight from Wicked Woods. And from everything she’s experienced since coming to Wicked Woods; if it was possible for vampires and werewolves to exist, then it was possible for dragons and fanged elves to, too.

  She’s seen the crossover with her own eyes…Archer the dragon flying over the trees of Wicked and Aunt Sophie… that was a hard one to digest, but now that she realized what she was, everything about her made sense. Everything here made sense… especially since Palisor was a part of the Wicked Woods.

  She looked over at Archer, who in human form looked to be one to two years older than Fallon.

  Archer, in his golden skin and amber eyes, who have been nothing but protective throughout. He was now her dragon, and she was his royal elf. He had been sent to bring her back, and he had done it. So why was he standing up for her now? Unless it was this business of the connection between a dragon and a Hugtandalfer? What was Archer not telling her? What role was she to play in this?

  Briony didn’t get the chance to think it through though, because Prince Vigor chose that moment to laugh.

  “Tired? Oh, is attending the sickbed of her father too much for the poor little human?”

  “I think, your highness,” Archer said to the Prince, “that it might have something to do with the Princess’ previous exertions.”

  “Previous exertions?” The Prince raised an eyebrow, getting a small laugh from some of the courtiers. “Well, I suppose we’re all worn out after that. Some of us, anyway.”

  “Hey!” Briony exclaimed as she got that. “That was not what Archer meant.”

  “Really?” Vigor’s eyebrow arched still further, his silver eyes looking at her up and down with the appreciation of what? A man appreciating the form of a woman? Briony couldn’t help but blush under his scrutinizing glaze. His forwardness was infuriating, and he was supposed to be her adopted brother.

  There was a line she was not going to cross with that.

  Vigor’s look of appr
eciation quickly changed to cockiness. “And yet you blush just at the mention of it.”

  It seemed that there was no way to win. Vigor was obviously determined to score points off Briony no matter what she said, and the courtiers seemed happy enough to go along with it. Probably, they found it entertaining, and if it meant that they could keep in the good graces of a prince at the same time, so much the better.

  “Have a good look?” Briony said, her chin jutted up. “Prince or should I say, Brother? You sure don’t get enough exertions to be giving a once over on your own sister! ”

  Vigor’s face went crimson as he protested softly, “but we’re not really blood-related…you’re practically a stranger.”

  “My daughter is a vision of loveliness, isn’t she?” King Waltham said proudly. “Even despite the harrowing journey she and her young dragon went through to reach us.”

  “In fact, your highness” Archer said, “before coming to Palisor, Briony and her friends fought with all their strength and might against the dark ones. The…vampires.”

  Archer hesitated over the word, as though knowing what effect it would have. And it certainly had an effect. Gasps came from the surrounding courtiers, while one of the women there actually fainted. Though that struck Briony as completely over the top, and frankly not very convincing, given that she managed to do it in such a way that she fell straight into the arms of a handsome male courtier, who then had to help her from the room.

  “Vampires?” one of the remaining courtiers said. “Are you sure?”

  Another, a woman who had vials and pouches on the belt of her gown, and whom Briony took to be some kind of physician, echoed the thought.

  “Vampires have not been seen here in a long time, Archer. The only ones here are the ones King Waltham fought and banished to…”

  “Malwinn.” The King’s voice was firm. “Enough. There are some things better left unsaid.”

  The woman curtsied low. “Forgive me, your majesty. I meant no harm.”