The Rise of the Dawnstar (The Avalonia Chronicles #2)

Chapter 2 - Briarwood Castle

A hush fell over the usually rowdy room, and no one moved.

The tavern was too crowded for us to use magic and fight our way out—somebody might get hurt, and Rafe knew that. It was just my luck I would get caught and dragged back to the Summer Palace before I got halfway to Illiador.

But it wasn't me they had come for. They didn't seem to know who we were.

The guards moved forward and surrounded Marcus, pulling back his hood and holding swords to his throat. Marcus didn't move, but his shrewd, dark eyes darted back and forth between them.

The captain of the town guards walked into the crowded room. A chill wind followed as he slammed the tavern door.

"Is this him, Captain?" the guard holding Marcus asked his superior. His uniform was a dull blue, and mud stains speckled the front of his tunic.

"I believe it is," said the captain, a sly grin spreading across his pockmarked face. He strode over to Marcus, a plain sword held loosely in his beefy hand. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Marcus Gold, Brandor's most infamous black market trader." His voice boomed across the hushed room as he pushed his straggly brown hair out of his face. He eyed Marcus warily, a cat playing with his prey. "You and your dirty magical items don't belong in my town. You should be more careful of the people you work with. Looks like your last customer didn't mind squealing your whereabouts in the torture chamber."

I winced at the word torture, but Marcus's expression remained unclear as to what he was thinking. The tavern customers shuffled backward, huddling against the walls and trying to stay out of harm's way. Many of them moved toward the door, but the guards did not let them leave.

Marcus looked the captain straight in the eye. "You have the wrong man."

"Oh, I don't think so." The captain's eyes gleamed almost manically. "There have been bodies turning up dead all over town, and you were seen leaving one of the murder scenes."

My heart beat so loudly I was afraid everyone would hear it.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," said Marcus calmly.

"Should we take him to the dungeons, sir?" asked one guard.

The captain nodded, his face hard. "Take him, I will deal with him personally."

As the guards started pulling Marcus toward the door, a gaunt man, who had been sitting at the table next to us, came and stood in front of the captain. He wrung his hands and shifted from side to side as he spoke.

"I saw them, my lord," he said, pointing at us and addressing the captain in a simpering voice. "They were all whispering together in a corner."

"Were they?" said the captain. His muddy boots clomped on the wooden floor as he walked toward us.

I tensed, and my magic flared to life.

Rafe moved slightly, pulling me up to his side and putting his arm around my waist. "Not yet," he whispered. He knew me too well.

I had learned to control my powers to a certain degree—it was a struggle to restrain myself, but I managed to push my magic back down.

The captain came to stand before us as he eyed me suspiciously. His rancid breath made me feel like gagging. His informant scurried behind him.

"What is your connection to the Brandorian spy?" the captain asked Rafe. It was obvious he didn't recognize the crown prince with his hood drawn over his head.

Rafe spoke calmly. "I have never seen him before. We just met him, he wanted directions."

"Liar!" spat the little informant. "I saw them huddled together. They are his accomplices, my lord captain."