Chapter: Disclosures in the Dark: 7 of ?

Author: Sam

Series: A Deeper Magic

Last Chapter: DG's group watch an image of how Ahamo came to the O.Z. and met Lavender. Ambrose goes to surgery.

xxx

Twitching open the curtain, she looked out over the cracked landscape with large, vibrant blue eyes. One moon hung low on the horizon, a perfect glowing orb in a tapestry of flashing diamonds far above the onyx-dark spires of the tower. A sigh shuddered through her, and DG let the curtain fall back into place. She turned to face the others in the large sitting room.

Impatience laced her throaty voice as she addressed the others sitting there. "Why is it taking so long? They've been in there for hours." A frown crossed her features and she stepped away from the window, voice firming. "I should be in there. I can help."

"No, DG," her father's deeper voice stopped her. "They can handle this."

"We're stronger together," DG shook her head, dark hair swinging around her upper arms.

Lavender added her voice to her husband's. "But your control is too sporadic, My Darling." The silver-haired queen rose gracefully and walked to her daughter. Slipping an arm around DG's shoulders, she said "no one has yet attempted to replace a removed brain, DG. The medicos specifically asked for limited external contaminants, including people and their . . ."

"Natural germs," Ahamo put in with a wide, gentle smile. "One viewer, one magical practitioner, and the scientific-medical staff only." He gestured casually to the fur-robed, brown-haired boy sleeping in a nearby chair. "They refused Raw's request to let Kalm in, as well."

A sigh shuddered through DG's body as she briefly leaned into her mother. A moment later the young woman straightened and turned to meet her mother's kind violet eyes. "Right. So I'm a liability to Glitch." Her frown mirrored her bitter tone.

"DG," Ahamo said, regret reflected in his voice. "I didn't mean you specifically . . ."

Several sets of footsteps on the wide marble floor of the hall drew their attention. All three turned expectantly, anxiety for their friend palpable in the air.

A single guard sprinted in, breathless with his run and his message. "There's been a . . ." belatedly gathering himself in the presence of the royal family, he bowed hastily. "There's a . . ."

The entrance of three other men interrupted whatever his message might have been. All three men stood fit and tall with differently shaded blond hair and wearing various worker's clothing. One younger man sported a kilt, one a sword, and the last, older man a fedora and long duster. This third man stepped forward and his calm, deep voice seemed to bring a sense of security with it.

"Hello, Princess."

"Cain!" DG's gasp held as much relief as distress as she practically ran across the room and into the startled embrace of her one time protector. "You heard . . ." she breathed into his shoulder, arms slipping around his waist as she buried her face in his collar, letting her fears temporarily slide away.

He wrapped his arms around the younger woman in an instinctively protective gesture. It had been weeks since he'd seen any of his questing companions, but Wyatt had never been very good at showing his emotions, and the only indication of any now was the relief in his crystal blue eyes. "Yeah," he rumbled, looking straight at the queen. "I heard. We didn't know if the rumors got this far."

"Rumors?" Lavender frowned, ignoring the fact that a former blacksmith and body guard still held one of the royal family in close embrace. She apparently understood what it was to miss a faithful friend and loyal companion.

DG lifted her face and brushed away her tears. "Rumors?" she echoed her mother, finally pulling away at the stiff posture of the former Tin Man, though only slightly. "What rumors?" she looked up at the man who'd been the voice of reason in her mad journey not even a month before.

Understanding flashed through Wyatt's eyes. "You haven't heard." He gently disentangled himself from DG and stepped closer to her parents. Removing his hat in a gesture of respect, he said "there's talk of shifting support away from you to a new ruler."

"A new ruler?" Ahamo stiffened. "Who? DG?"

"Far from it, Sir," Jeb Cain spoke up, stepping closer, one hand firmly on his hilt to prevent his sword rattling. He rarely wore the badge of leadership he'd been presented by the rebellion but the unspoken symbol marked the eighteen annual old man an equal to the reportedly fair-minded rulers; thus, his opinions and ideas would in all probability be listened to. After all, his resistance fighters had aided in the destruction of the witch, enabling the Gale family to retake their generations-old throne.

Ahamo turned to Jeb and smiled at him. "Please, all of you sit. Catch your breath." The royal consort, husband to the queen, gestured to the array of comfortably cushioned chairs. With only a nod, Ahamo apparently gave an order to the young guard, who in turn hurried to bring fresh water and sweet biscuits forward for the travelers.

The three sat, and DG moved to the chair closest to Wyatt. He'd been her second friend in the O.Z. and her truest, next to Glitch. Simply having him nearby, despite his news, brought a small amount of solace to the worried young woman.

Lavender and Ahamo sat, hands linked, and the queen stiffened her back in an unconscious gesture of control. Her voice barely registered her concern as she said, "I am Lavender. This is Ahamo." Forgoing titles brought the messengers onto a more equal footing, much as Jeb's sword of office did. "The boy sleeping there is called Kalm. I believe you are familiar with my younger daughter, Dorothy?"

"I am Jeb Cain and this is Dylan. This is Wyatt Cain, formerly a Tin Man." Jeb turned to Wyatt in deference of his connections rather than claiming rank officially. The older man had more right to expect to be listened to: he had saved DG's life numerous times.

Wyatt sat forward, looking the queen straight in the eyes, not informing his son he was well-known to the royal family already. His former station as bodyguard in the esteemed Mystic Man's Tin Men had clearly prepared him for addressing powerful political figures, as well. "The people believe the princess is not who she claims." As always, Wyatt led with a direct statement; he had never been a subtle man.

He had their full attention, though DG felt a swell of indignation followed by a small amount of fear deep in her core. "But I helped save them!"

Turning his attention to the younger woman, Wyatt nodded once. "And they honor you for that." He ran his hat brim through his hands, shaking his head at the guard's second attempt at offering refreshments, though the third messenger, Dylan, took water with apparent gratitude. Wyatt added, "they are aware of . . ."

Dylan finally spoke up, interrupting after his sip of water. "They want to love you for your bravery, your sacrifice, and your loyalty. But . . ." his voice dropped to a lower, warning note, "they recall your death fifteen annuals ago. They think you're an imposter, Your Highness." He had apparently not forgotten that he sat with the ruling family.

DG turned worried blue eyes on the resistance fighter, noting the kilt that marked him as one of Jeb's Eastern Fighters. "So, why would they hold that against my mother? She's still here." DG assumed that out of the entire family, Azkadellia would have been the least supported since her violent possession-fueled coup a few years previously.

Jeb interjected, "it's common belief that the queen," he nodded his head respectfully to the lady, "couldn't have her magic anymore or the witch wouldn't have been able to take control."

A fierce frown showed DG's dislike of that public knowledge. "Ahamo's still here . . . or do they believe he's a thief still?" Lavender had, after all, spread the tale of her husband's greed to protect him while he went into hiding.

"Actually, no," Jeb shook his head, finally turning to study the young woman who had apparently found a way to tap his normally withdrawn father's emotions. Jeb's thoughts remained hidden behind his own stone-like demeanor, a son very much in the image of the man who'd raised him. "They feel the theft charge was a misunderstanding. But he's not from the O.Z.," Jeb clarified. "The people don't feel they can fully trust him."

Standing suddenly, DG's mouth worked in silent indignation. The steady hand of Wyatt Cain pulling her back to her chair stopped her tirade before it could begin.

"And they see Azkadellia as a victim of the witch," her former bodyguard reported. "They think she's too weak to protect them if someone attacks in the future."

"And so, they look for a new, stronger protector they feel they can trust." Lavender summed up the threat in a calm manner, a small sigh the only indication of her fierce worry.

"Who?" DG turned to Wyatt, pulling her hand from his with a frustrated frown. She wondered why she'd left it there in the first place . . . like a child needing comfort or some such. "Do they even have someone picked out? The Mystic Man is dead, and I can't think of anyone else who's magic would be strong enough." She turned to look over Jeb then Dylan. "Or who'd be trusted enough."

"Leona."

"Princess Leona."

Lavender and Dylan spoke simultaneously then glanced at one another as Jeb broke in, running one hand roughly through his dark blond hair.

"Yes, Princess Leona is the name we've heard. As soon as Dylan brought us the news, we knew it was a serious threat so brought it to you." He leaned forward, hand falling to grip his knee. "The people don't seem too worried that she abdicated in favor of Princess Azkadellia. They think she's the only one able to help them."

Dylan sipped his water again and added "they're frightened."

Ahamo and Lavender shared an incomprehensible look then turned to Dylan. Ahamo's voice remained calm, though his habitual amusement had fled. "And what does Leona say? Will she try for the throne?"

The young messenger shook his head, platinum hair plastered wetly to his head with drying sweat resembling an odd helmet. "No one seems to know for sure . . . at least I haven't heard. None of our scouts have said as much."

Silence descended over the small group as they absorbed the implications. The sound of Kalm whimpering in his sleep drew the queen's attention and she rose to go to the boy. The others watched as the woman pulled the young Viewer into a gentle embrace, quieting him as he woke from dark dreams.

Finally, DG asked "who's Princess Leona? I think I've heard her name."

"Your mother's cousin," Ahamo supplied. "She was there when I arrived."

"Right," DG pointed at the husky older man. "The video. The one with the knife."

Her father nodded as Lavender guided a tired-looking Kalm to sit with the group.

"We need to talk to her . . . to find out her plans," Lavender said. She turned serious eyes on their visitors. "We need to see if she's even a part of this idea."

"Where does she live?" DG asked then backtracked to question "wait . . . wouldn't the witch have killed her, too?"

"No," assured Lavender and Dylan, again as one.

Ahamo stood. "No, she went further west to the grasslands." He offered a hand to his wife. "We can talk to her and find out what she plans, but we need to go quickly." His urgency inferred concern over just who else might approach the erstwhile princess.

DG frowned; it seemed she did that often now that she had become involved in politics. "What aren't you telling me? I have a right to know." Instinctively she turned to Wyatt as if he might explain like so many times on their previous quest.

Wyatt shook his head, but Lavender clarified "Marresura . . . she's a collector of magic . . ."

The name meant nothing to DG, but Wyatt's reaction let her know this woman could be a truly viable threat. His back stiffened, his crystal-blue eyes narrowed, and his hands clenched on the armrests of his chair. "I thought she'd been killed," he said, tone balancing between concern and, oddly enough, anger.

Ahamo shook his head. "No. In fact, when Azkadellia was first possessed, we thought it might be Marresura. She's been obsessed with Az before."

With a soft clearing of his throat, Dylan drew the attention. "However, there are still some Long Coats who would like to get their power back. It's possible they could try to manipulate Leona." He flushed slightly. "She's never been known for her . . . ah . . . sharp wits?" The former resistance fighter lowered his eyes after the royal insult.

Lavender nodded in surprising acquiescence. "That is another possibility. What was the name of their leader? Zero?" She frowned in remembrance of the former youthful bodyguard from Az's childhood. "As the Long Coats aren't known for their gentle techniques we have all the more reason to hurry." Finally she took her husband's outstretched hand and allowed him to assist her in rising. "DG, you cannot come with us," she commanded gently before the young woman could offer. "Azkadellia will need your help if something happens while we're away."

"But . . ." DG didn't get to finish her protest as her father agreed.

"And," the royal consort turned to Wyatt Cain, "we need to ask if you'll take up your Tin Man duties once again to protect DG during this."

Jeb frowned but didn't deny that his father was perhaps the best choice as a royal guardian . . . especially for the most headstrong in a family of independent thinkers.

Wyatt seemed to stiffen and DG jumped in. "I don't need protection." She immediately contradicted this claim by saying "I have an entire regiment of guards." She gestured to the nearby royal guard as emphasis, hoping to spare Wyatt from what seemed to be a disagreeable task for him. He'd been surly almost their entire former quest while protecting her and had disappeared as soon as his obligations had ended.

Her mother cupped her face. "But none of them know what Marresura looked like. Officer Cain has met her."

Surprise lit DG's features and she turned to Wyatt. "You have?"

xxx

Dark brown hair wound tightly in a crisp bun on the top of her head, the hazel-eyed woman in the form-fitting brown dress and shaper stopped at the entrance to the large, well trodden courtyard. Crossing her arms over her ample chest, she glared down her nose at the gathering youths in their common wear.

Carefully, the fifteen annual old with the dark blond hair and slate gray eyes slipped past the woman and strode over to the edge of the group. He stopped next to a sturdy boy with light blond hair and almost electric light blue eyes dressed in worn worker's clothes. "Hello, I'm . . ."

The woman called loudly, interrupting the teen, "Zero, do not worry about your obligations. I am sure Private Randu will fill in nicely with the princess in your absence." Her face twisted into a smile of malice.

The teen called Zero didn't turn, merely stiffening, a fierce frown crossing his face.

The lighter-haired Wyatt Cain glanced past their newest member to the woman behind, no emotion showing in his crystal blue eyes. "I'm Wyatt Cain. Who's that?"

Zero sighed and flipped his hair from his grey eyes. "Her name is Marresura, the Royal Magical Tutor." He dropped his tone and mumbled, "my mother."

Wyatt looked from the woman to the teen and back again. Finally, he settled his attention on the other youth. "My father thought I should have another choice aside from blacksmith," he offered the un-asked-for explanation for his presence in the Youth Training Regiment.

With a slight smile, apparently glad of the change in subject, still trying to ignore his watchful parent, Zero said, "my father was in the Royal Army and I'm going to join when I'm old enough."

With a nod, Wyatt turned his attention to the front of the milling young men. He'd never been one to make friends quickly, but he thought he might like the eager wanna-be soldier. Glancing briefly at the still watchful woman, Wyatt suppressed a shudder at the fairly malevolent vibes washing from her. He could like the son, but Wyatt thought he could never come to like the mother: there was something . . . off about her.

"Yes," Wyatt sighed, pushing away that first in a series of meetings. "I'd rather it be the Long Coats. I can handle Zero." He stood and offered his hand to Ahamo. "I'll do it."

Too surprised to stop the deal, DG watched as the pair shook hands.

Her mother gently pushed Kalm to DG's side. "We'll travel light and write back as soon as we have news." The older couple quickly embraced their daughter and left the room without a backward glance for their visitors or further hint at their emotions. The guard ran after them.

Once the footsteps faded, DG shook herself and turned to Wyatt, instinctively stepping a bit closer to the confused Kalm. "And now what do we do?"

Jeb took the lead at once, cutting off his father. "The three of us will keep watch here and find out any more about who's plotting and what to expect."

Dylan nodded in agreement.

Wyatt sighed and glanced over the small group. He said nothing, however, as he moved to look out the tower window over the broken landscape and the low hanging moon. His silence only reinforced DG's worry.

xxx

A long time passed while Wyatt Cain studied the view from the tower window. Jeb and Dylan had taken seats once more and quietly discussed plans for security of Central City and those currently in the Western Tower. DG stood by the door, one arm around a very sleepy looking Kalm. A feeling of unease permeated the room.

Finally, Wyatt turned his head and studied DG. Seeing her worried expression something seemed to click in his memory, and he asked "when we came you said I'd heard something. What was it?"

Startled by the sudden question, DG looked up, blinking vibrant blue eyes. "Oh! Uh . . . Glitch. I thought you were here because of Glitch's surgery."

Crystal blue eyes widening, Wyatt turned fully, frowning. "Surgery?"

"He's getting his brain put back in," DG's voice mirrored her anxiety and she reached out to pat Kalm's arm.

A soft noise from the hall drew all attention; Jeb and Dylan rose to their feet. Azkadellia, looking drained and barely awake, walked in followed by Raw, appearing equally exhausted. As DG reached a hand out to touch her sister's arm, Az smiled gently.

"He's sleeping in recovery now." The older woman looked at the younger. "They aren't certain if his synapses will completely connect, but there is hope. His neurological responses are encouraging so far."

Raw spoke in his gruff voice. "Sleep now." He reached out to grip Kalm's shoulder, pulling the boy to his side then turning and guiding him from the room.

Holding up her hand, not questioning the presence of the three men, Az said, "Please come, DG. I'll need help. I'm exhausted. He can be visited in the morning, not before."

DG opened her mouth, but Wyatt cut her off. "Go ahead, Princess. I'll stay up. I'll get you if anything happens." He nodded to his son and Dylan, as well. "You two, find rooms. We'll discuss strategy with the princesses tomorrow."

With an answering nod, promising herself to explain about Glitch in the morning, DG obeyed Wyatt's order because it made sense; his orders always made sense. Fortunately, her sister never asked why Wyatt Cain had returned or what happened to their parents. The younger sister didn't feel like explaining anything right then. Her hand shot up to cover a yawn and she ended in a sigh.

Wyatt was right. It was time for bed.

xxx

Continued in Chapter Eight: Living through History