Xendus grunts his agreement.
“What’s a manticore?” The word is familiar, but I’m not certain why. I pick a pink daisy that reminds me of Rosomon.
“Manticores are extinct,” Surath says. “They were winged creatures with the face of a man, the body of a lion, and a tail that stings like a scorpion.”
I nod. That does sound like the images of Othrix. The castle comes into crisper view ahead of us, and I frown. Where there should be our family’s banners flying, there are banners paying tribute to Othrix. Has the klericy taken over my grandfather’s kingdom? Did they take overallthe Seven Kingdoms? Is that why Roule and the others said, Kingdom of Light in the singular?
I have so many questions, but I must be careful in asking them. Nothing since we crossed back through the veil has felt right, but if anyone knows how to tiptoe carefully through a sticky situation, it’s me.
As we get closer to the castle, several rows of guards take formation, blocking the gate. If they know it’s me coming, why are there so many guards?
“When we arrive,” I tell Surath and Xendus, “let me do all the talking. In fact, say nothing to anyone. And I need to meet with the King alone.”
“So, we’re to be left in the dark,” Surath snaps.
I turn toward her and offer a commiserating smile. “I’ll ensure the three of us have time alone to converse.”
When we’re about twenty handspans away from the wall of guards, a man I recognize steps through them. Percyval has been my father’s valet for as long as I can remember, and I’m puzzled as to why he was the one sent to greet me.
“Your Highness,” he says. “Three moon cycles ago, we received word from the dragon camp that you were dead.”
“I trust that you’re happy to learn that I’m not.” I wink.
His face remains expressionless. “TheKingwill be happy. We will request the audience you seek, but first, I must arrange accommodations for you and your—friends? The female will be housed?—”
“Thank you, Percyval.” I cut him off. “My friends, Xander and Sarah, are married and require a single bed chamber.” I know this request might sound strange. Few married couples share a bed outside performing their marital duties. But if they have a private room together, it will be easier for the three of us to parlay there. My chambers will no doubt have more servants and security.
Percyval’s eyebrows rise, but he says, “Of course, Your Highness.”
As we cross the courtyard, I take note of many more changes since I was last here. There are many new shrines to Othrix,some in place of ancestral statues that had been there for centuries, and groups of klericks are milling about the courtyard, eyeing us and whispering to each other.
One of them strides toward Percyval. “These men reek of Darkness,” he says. “They must not be allowed in the castle.”
“This is Prince Tynan.” Percyval glances over his shoulder toward me, a mixture of fear and suspicion in his eyes.
I stride confidently forward. “Is there a problem?”
The klerick’s eyes narrow. “You and your companions reek of the Darkness.”
I shrug as if his accusation is nothing. “My friend Xander and I are dragon riders, and dragons are known to have Darkness.” I glare at him as if annoyed. I consider adding that we were recently on the other side of the veil. If word of my disappearance and presumed death traveled here, perhaps he already knows that. But if not, I don’t want to share more than I need to.
The klerick takes a step back. “We will be watching you.”
Anger bubbles inside me at his insolence, but I keep it trapped in my chest. Until I can better assess the situation, it’s best to err on the side of caution. “As a prince, I am often observed.”
The klerick frowns, but I quickly turn away as if he’s of no consequence. Surath and Xendus come up behind me.
Percyval goes ahead of us, and as we finish crossing the main courtyard, he turns toward a group of footmen who are following him like newly hatched ducklings chasing their mother. He murmurs a few words I don’t hear, and several of them scatter, running toward various entrances into the castle.
“Come,” Percyval says. “I’ll see that you and your guests are bathed and properly attired for dinner.”
CHAPTER 18
Tynan
The suit of clothes the footmen brought me fit well enough, but they feel strange on my body. The fabric is rough. The style is very odd too—not like normal Khotori attire, and especially not like clothes worn by a member of the royal family. I expected fur-trimmed velvet, something with at least some gold piping, but these garments are modestly cut and barely adorned.
The only embellishments are my family’s crest, and the ensign of Othrix, both embroidered high on my chest.
