Dhara's life was turned upside down once before, and she had recovered nicely from it, thank you very much.
Then the king dies, which is enough cause for worry, and the reason for all the past upheaval in her life walks in through the front door wit...
Dhara resisted the urge to bow as she stared at the cold, smiling face of Queen Edna of Sansia.
"Hello, Dhara Torner."
Her voice was like creamy liqueur flowing on ice cubes.
"Your Majesty," Dhara said, keeping her eyes fixed on the queen and her men. "To what do I owe this visit?"
"Ah, darling girl, shouldn't we talk inside your lovely home, where it is cool and quiet?"
"Dhara."
The smile didn't falter. "Well, why ever not?"
"You are here in secret. That leads me to assume that you don't want anyone to know you are here; you aren't here for good reasons, and there's a possibility that you'll kill me if I don't agree with whatever poisonous thing you have come to say."
Queen Edna laughed. "So clever! But I wouldn't expect any less from the first-born daughter of Julius and Clara Torner. No, nothing less," she daintily wiped tears from her eyes. She glanced at Owl, who gave her a death stare in return. The queen shrugged.
"I've come to take you with me to the palace. I have need of your...skill set."
"Tell me what you need, and I'll have it done and sent to you in the capital."
"No, no, that won't do. You see, I don't just need your knowledge or technical know-how: I need your blood."
Dhara blinked at her forthrightness. Queen Edna stared back earnestly, a hint of madness in her eyes. Her perfectly curled honey-colored hair glinted in the sun, a gold circlet gleaming on her forehead.
"Why?"
Queen Edna shrugged. "You are Creator-blessed. Life magic flows strongly through your veins. You try to hide it, to dampen it, but I know. We all know. Why do you think your family fought so hard against my marriage into the royal family?"
Dhara shifted her stance a little, making sure her feet didn't go to sleep from standing still too long. She needed to be able to move quickly at the first sign of trouble.
"My family fought yours because you love Darkness. Your very existence is profanity against all that is dear to The Creator. You say I am Creator-blessed? Of course I am: all creatures of the light are. You say you need my blood, but it can't be as simple as that. So, I'll ask again: why are you here?"
The queen cocked her head, black eyes taking Dhara in. She knew she didn't look threatening in any way, with her curly black hair pulled in a stylish messy bun atop her head, and her camisole tucked into linen pants. And she was clutching a broom in her bare feet.
"The High Seer once told me that the daughter of my enemy possesses a great power that could help me in my...plans, or could devastate me completely. She said, alone, you are strong, but when you join with your fated, you will be invincible."
"Prophecies are open to interpretation," Dhara shrugged. "I can't possibly be your only enemy's daughter."
"Deny it all you want, Dhara: the prophecy was about you. So I came to see if I could sway you to my side, or if I would have to destroy you."
Dhara gave her a hard look, her gaze flicking briefly to the five men behind the queen.
"You have my answer."
Queen Edna's smile was full of malice.
"I will enjoy telling your parents of your death."
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Malachi unsheathed his sword and sliced off the leafy satyr's arm before he could touch the prince. Prince Lucius stumbled backward, eyes wide in shock, but not fear, Malachi noted. The satyr fell off its perch and jumped up, rushing towards the prince with one arm outstretched. Malachi attacked, reducing the animated bush to broken twigs and scattered leaves.
"What was that about?" Malachi wondered aloud. The prince came to stand beside him, looking off into the distance.
"I think my mother is up to no good," he said calmly, right fist clenching and unclenching. Malachi looked down at the dark-haired boy.
"You know something about this," he stated. The prince nodded, then turned around, beckoning to Malachi.
"Come. We need to leave this place."
Malachi started to follow when a strange feeling bloomed in his chest. It felt like... He stopped. Dhara. She was in trouble.
Prince Lucius turned to look at him. "I know. Mother is with her right now, which can't be a good thing. Let us go!"
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The queen's men tried to climb the steps. The first two got to the third step when a shockwave blew them back, almost throwing them into the swirling portal. Queen Edna looked highly amused.
"Who knew that The Creator's children use defensive magic!"
Dhara rolled her eyes and brushed her broom left three times, casting another spell. The next two soldiers were electrocuted. They fell, steam curling from their prone bodies, as the last man stepped forward. He stopped at the bottom step and thrust his arms forward. He started a chant and began to move his hands in beautiful, sweeping motions, as though conducting a choir.
Dhara's eyes widened in surprise. She turned to the queen.
"Necromancy?"
The queen shrugged. "I will have you and your magic, dear. Dead or, well, dead," and with that, she turned and walked back to her portal, which closed after her. The four men were recovering and getting to their feet. The undead spell the necromancer was chanting was lengthy and precise. It couldn't be stopped once begun, and the only way to erase the spell was to kill the caster.
Kill. Dhara swallowed.
The other men got to their feet, circling the porch. Their job was to kill her to make sure the undead spell took hold immediately. If not, the spell would be cast, and hangover her like Damocles' sword until she died, then reanimate her corpse.
She had to get away from her porch to stop the caster. That would leave her open to attack from the other goons.
Dhara looked at Owl, who looked back at her, unblinking. She nodded.
