A Sky of Spells Read online

  She reached out and held both his hands and smiled.

  “Thorgrin: I’m with child.”

  Those words struck Thorgrin through the heart, coursed through his whole body, made him lose all sense of time and place. He was beyond elated. He felt as if he were part of something bigger than himself, something deeper in the universe. He felt his entire world spinning. He was overwhelmed with joy and gratitude.

  “A child?” he asked.

  She nodded, smiling.

  He looked down at her stomach, and gently rested his palm on it. As he did, he felt an incredible energy racing through his entire body. He could feel the child spinning and moving, the slightest tremors in his palm. He felt a love and joy beyond what he ever thought capable of experiencing.

  He embraced Gwendolyn, hugging her tightly, and she hugged him back.

  “I love you,” he whispered into her ear.

  “I love you, too,” she whispered back.

  Thor draped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her tight, and the two of them turned and looked out at the vista, both suns sitting low in the horizon, King’s Court awash in scarlet and violet twinkling in a thousand points of light. It felt to Thor like the Ring was being reborn, slowly coming back to life. All around them winter flowers bloomed, fields glowing white, and against the backdrop of the second setting sun, it was the most beautiful thing Thor had ever seen. It was an ideal moment, the perfect moment for his proposal, and he wanted to freeze it forever. It was magical. Just like his entire relationship with Gwendolyn.

  As they looked out at the horizon, at the distant road to King’s Court, Thor saw an endless caravan of humanity coming towards this city from all directions, some on foot, others leading horses, carts, cattle. They were all heading to the same place, all coming to celebrate the new Ring, all coming to celebrate hope.

  “A stream of humanity,” Thor observed. “People of all walks want to come back to King’s Court, to celebrate. They all have faith in you.”

  “We will rebuild it,” Gwen said. “Stone by stone. We shall make it as great a city as it ever was. And the centerpiece of all the celebrations will be our wedding. It will be the most magnificent wedding the Ring has ever witnessed. It shall be followed by our baby. Everything will be new again, and our people will rise from the ashes. We will do it together. Our love will build it.”

  They leaned in and kissed, and they held the kiss as the final light of the setting sun washed over them. Thor only wished he could hold the world this way forever.

  SIX MOONS LATER

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Gwendolyn soared high in the air as she rode on the back of Ralibar, clutching on for dear life, as she always did when she rode him, trying to predict his unpredictable temper. Ralibar dipped in and out of the clouds, dove up and down, snorting, sometimes even arching back. He was the most strong-willed and temperamental creature she had ever met, and she could feel his emotions flaring within him.

  Gwen was honored that Ralibar even let her ride him. She had discovered, moons ago, his fondness for her. Whenever Thorgrin went to ride Mycoples, Ralibar would become jealous and territorial, and would snort and shriek at Thor, trying to scare him away. Ralibar and Mycoples would stand off with each other, and it had been getting progressively worse—until one day, Gwendolyn had accompanied Thor to see him off, and they had all been shocked as Ralibar had turned to Gwendolyn, had lowered his head and, while first examining her suspiciously, had then leaned in and stroked her stomach with his face. Ralibar had purred softly, and for the first time ever, he had calmed.

  Thor had watched in shock as Gwendolyn had reached up and stroked Ralibar’s face, nervous as she felt his rough scales, ancient and a little bit moist. Ralibar had then shocked them all even more by lowering his head all the way to the ground, a gesture meant for Gwen to ride him.

  Gwendolyn had mounted him nervously, not sure what to expect. It had been a wild and crazy ride, and she was uncertain whether he actually wanted her on or not. Yet, still, he had sought her out every day since and had gestured for her to keep riding him.

  For a beast who was clearly endeared to Gwendolyn, Ralibar had a funny way of showing it. From the outside, it might even seem as if he hated her. He was a moody and tempestuous creature, perpetually in some sort of emotional storm, whether at himself, or humans, or other dragons. Gwen felt compassion for him: she got the feeling that he was a loner, a malcontent, yet she sensed that, beneath it all, Ralibar had a big heart, and that he might just be lonely. He flew erratically, and often acted as if he wanted Gwen off of him; yet when she tried to dismount, he threw a fit, and thus clearly wanted her to stay.

  Despite all his craziness, Gwen had taken a liking to him; he had an odd way of getting under her skin. Over these last several months, Gwen had grown accustomed to his moods, and had learned to read his signs. The bond between them grew ever stronger, and it made Gwen feel happy in a way she had not expected. She even sensed Ralibar’s moods starting to calm.

  On this beautiful summer morning, in the picture-perfect weather, both suns shining, Gwen took her morning ride, as she always did. Nearby, Thorgrin rode Mycoples, the two of them lifting up into the air in the early morning sky, as they always did together, launching off from the top of King’s Castle, their dragons intertwining as they flew. They had developed a morning ritual, and they followed it today: they circled the grounds of King’s Court, then circled the towns and villages surrounding it, Gwen surveying her people, her kingdom, every single morning, to make sure all was in order.

  Gwen loved this time together with Thor and with Ralibar and Mycoples, the most magical mornings of her life, watching the suns rise, watched the mists burn off the land below in all different colors. It also afforded her a bird’s eye view of her kingdom, and more than once she had spotted some trouble down below that she would have not seen otherwise, which made her convene her council and set wrongs right. She had spotted fires, small villages dilapidated, people injured or struggling with their horses and carts, roads in disrepair…an endless number of small fixes to her kingdom. It allowed her to be an omnipresent queen. It also was reassuring for her people to look up and see her every morning, watching over them, setting wrongs right, riding on the back of a dragon. It enforced her image as a woman of power.

  Gwen had never anticipated that she would fall so comfortably into the role of queen. But now that six moons had passed since the expulsion of the Empire and her peoples’ return to King’s Court, since she had begun the process of re-establishing her rule, she had found that being queen came naturally to her. It had been the most glorious six moons of her life. She had grown closer to Thor than she could ever imagine, the two of them finally having a chance to be together every day and night, sleeping in her former parents’ chamber, in the castle, which she had painstakingly rebuilt.

  Most glorious of all, she was now nine months pregnant, and her belly protruded more than she could ever imagine; she felt on the verge, any day, of giving birth. Her baby moved inside her all the time, and she felt his presence with her every moment, as if he were out there in the world with her right now.

  She had not let it slow her down, however. Every day she had been focused on rebuilding, with Thor, her council, all the people she loved and trusted at her side, all working like an army to make King’s Court as magical and resplendent as it had once been. Gwen was determined that King’s Court become more than just a city: she wanted it to become a beacon of hope and optimism for all the survivors of the Ring. She wanted it to be a testament that they would all come back, even stronger than before.

  To her amazement, she had succeeded. As Gwen looked down, circling the city, the summer wind in her hair, she was awestruck at how beautiful King’s Court has become. It shone in the sun, completely rebuilt and bigger than before, sprawling now for miles in each direction, greatly expanded. It was a greater and more foreboding city than her father had ever dreamed of. She had managed to double in size everything
her father had done, adding bigger ramparts, turrets, forts, moats, widening roads, thickening city walls…. King’s Castle soared higher than ever, the Hall of Arms and the Hall of the Silver were rebuilt, and even the Legion grounds were back to what they once were. Thousands of her people had worked night and day to bringing it back to life. Looking at it now, one could not tell it was ever destroyed.

  The work went one, as it did every day, and even from up here there could be heard the perpetual sound of chisels and anvils and hammers ringing through the air. It was the sound of progress, and it was a part of daily life in King’s Court now. As Gwen looked below, the sight amazed her anew each day, and she could hardly believe what she had accomplished. It made her feel that anything was possible. It made her realize that even if she reached the lowest and darkest times of her life, it was still possible to bounce back from anything—and make life even greater than it ever was.

  As Gwen circled with Ralibar, she wondered what her father would think if he saw all this. Would he be proud? She had a feeling that he would. He had chosen her to rule, after all, and this would all be a testament to his choice. She wished more than anything that he was alive now to witness all this, yet she felt that he was watching with satisfaction.

  Gwen directed Ralibar to dive down to the left, and Thor followed on Mycoples. She flew over the outer ring of King’s Court, a new vast courtyard, replete with formal gardens and bubbling fountains, brand-new walls and arches. Gwen had it built of a shining white marble, mined from an ancient quarry, and it was, to Gwen’s eyes, the most beautiful part of King’s Court, this new courtyard which had never existed before. It was hard to imagine it now without it.

  Even more exciting was the activity taking place down below, hundreds of workers scurrying about, working furiously to prepare for her wedding. They had been preparing for six moons, and the wedding had grown into a bigger and bigger affair. Scores of workers draped flowers of every color along the ancient stone walls, while others lined up thousands of chairs alongside a long red velvet aisle which was being rolled out. An altar was being constructed at the end of it, bedecked in flowers of every sort.

  With the wedding just a half moon away, people were already pouring in from all corners of the Ring, from both sides of the Highlands, from the Upper Isles—and even from countries outside the Ring, a steady string of dignitaries visiting from lands far away. They had sent delegations and had crossed the ocean, and Gwen had the Shield lowered long enough to let them cross the Canyon. Gwen looked out at the wide road leading to King’s Court, and she saw, as she did every day, thousands of people heading for King’s Court. They wore brightly colored robes of every color and fashion, from every corner of the world.

  Today was the day of the summer festival, the first reaping of fruits, and they all poured in to celebrate. There would be festivals and revelries unlike any other, lasting for days, especially as they were also coming to celebrate the new capitol of the ring, and to attend her wedding.

  Gwen felt butterflies at the thought. The wedding was nearly here, but a half moon away. She felt her stomach flipping, and she hoped and prayed that the baby did not come before then. Over the last six moons, she and Thor had grown ever closer, and she could hardly wait to be married to him. She looked down and glanced at his mother’s ring shining on her hand, as she always did, and felt an amazing energy radiating off of it.

  Ever since Thor had killed Andronicus, he had been like a different person. He seemed as if he had found some sort of peace within himself, and he had settled into domestic life with Gwendolyn quite well. He had thrown himself into the rebuilding of King’s Court, and of the Ring, and had trained every day with his fellow warriors, taking joy from their presence.

  Ralibar suddenly jerked to the right and dove down unexpectedly, and Gwen held on tight as she felt her stomach plunging. She could sense by his movements that he was ravenous for his morning breakfast. She hugged his neck and leaned low as he turned for the forest, diving between the trees, scanning left and right for a meal.

  “Ralibar, stop!” she commanded. “Not now!” she yelled, annoyed at his ravenous appetite.

  But Ralibar, as usual, ignored her. He swerved in and out of the trees until he focused on a target, opened his great jaws, and snatched up a huge red deer.

  Gwendolyn turned, hating to watch.

  Ralibar lifted it in its jaws, then flew back up into the air, carrying the animal, protesting in its mouth, until he threw back his head and swallowed it.

  Ralibar then set his sights back on the ground, and Gwen had a sinking feeling he was going to plummet again.

  “Ralibar, NO!” she screamed.

  He again ignored her. This time he set his sights on a lake, King’s Lake, his favorite. He never missed an opportunity to skim it.

  Ralibar dove low, Gwen clutching him, and as he neared it, he opened his mouth and breathed a wall of flame.

  The flames singed the water, steam rising off it, and as the water bubbled and heated up, scores of fish suddenly leapt out of it, into the air, trying to escape from the boiling waters. As they leapt, Ralibar was there, waiting, jaws open. He swallowed entire schools of fish, flopping in his great jaws, some of them falling back into the water, as he gulped the rest down.

  Mycoples flew beside them, but she did not bother eating. Perhaps because she was female, she did not seem to have Ralibar’s appetite. Luckily, at least, Ralibar did not eat any humans.

  A horn sounded in the distance, and Gwen was finally able to wrestle Ralibar away, and they all circled back around to see knights in armor holding lances and lining up on the far courtyard.

  “The tournament begins!” Thorn yelled to her. “I must not be late!”

  Gwen nodded and they all flew back towards King’s Court. The day’s tournaments and festivities were beginning, and she knew that also meant that people would be lining up to petition her. It was time to begin the daily business of ruling her kingdom. As always, it came too soon.

  They both flew over King’s Court, the dragons flew together for a moment, and Thor reached out and took Gwen’s hand, leaned over and kissed it. Then they forked, each going their own way, Thor to the fields and Gwen to her castle. It was time for the day to begin.

  *

  Thor, in full armor, charged on his horse, galloping at full speed, his lance held out before him and his face plate down as he charged for his opponent. Charging him was a warrior from a land he’d never heard of, across the sea, wearing brown armor, a helmet with a long and pointed nose, his armor a strange combination of male and plate. His lance had strange markings, too, and as he aimed it for Thor’s chest, his lance longer, Thor concentrated with all his might, focusing on how best to defeat his opponent. Thor tuned in, tried to sense the vibrations of the ground beneath him; he felt the slight tremors, and he slowed things down his mind, until he felt the feelings of the horses, the weight of the riders, the angle of the lance. He sensed his opponent’s intentions. From his appearance, he appeared to be aiming high—yet Thor’s instinct told him he was going to aim low.

  At the last moment, Thor adjusted accordingly, trusting his instincts, aiming his lance high, and dodging to the side. Thor’s lance impacted his opponent’s shoulder, knocking him back off his horse and sending him crashing to the ground in a great clang of metal.

  There came a cheer from the crowd as his opponent rolled, bruised but unhurt.

  Thor circled around, taking in the adulation from the huge crowd that lined up to watch the royal jousts, then jumped from his horse, made sure his opponent was okay, and extended a hand. The crowd cheered in approval as he did.

  “I’ve never been defeated in battle,” the knight said. “Much less by someone younger than myself, or with a shorter lance. Well won!”

  They clasped forearms, and they each led their horses by the reigns to the side of the grounds, making room for the next joust.

  Thor was beginning to feel his muscles stiffening; it had been hours of jo
usting, a growing crowd lined up far and wide to watch the highlight of the day’s festivities. As Thor reached the side, Kendrick took his place, racing down the jousting lane and facing off against a knight whose armor came from a place Thor did not recognize.

  The two charged, and Kendrick took out the soldier, to the cheers of the crowd. Thor cheered loudest of all.

  Thor was elated to be here, on this day of the Summer Solstice, fighting with these great warriors, finally feeling as if he were one of them. For the first time, he no longer felt like an outsider.

  Thor wanted to win on his own terms, as a regular warrior, with skills that matched others; he did not want to draw on his magical powers to influence his fight. So far, he had succeeded. While most of his friends had fallen, Thor had managed to make it to the final rounds of jousting, in the running with Kendrick, Erec, Conven, Elden, Reece, O’Connor, Brandt and Atme, along with several foreign knights. There were not many jousts left in the day.

  A horn sounded and Thor watched a distant jousting lane and saw O’Connor charge against an opponent twice his size, from the southern province of the Ring; O’Connor missed his mark, and the opponent struck O’Connor in the gut, knocking him backwards off his horse. The crowd grunted and groaned as O’Connor hit the ground hard.

  He lay there for a moment, and Thor worried if he was okay; but then O’Connor rose slowly to his feet and walked off. The crowd cheered for him. He was done with the tournament, but at least he was unhurt.

  In the lane beside Thor, knights from distant lands charged each other. They met with a great battle cry, lances aimed high, and one screamed as a lance broke and a splinter pierced him through the throat. The crowd jeered, as it was a dirty move for the knight to strike so close to the throat, and dubiously legal.

  The crowd groaned, horrified, as the knight fell off his horse, to the ground, writhing. Attendants rushed over to help him, to try to stop the bleeding, but within moments, he was dead.