Heir of Amber and Fire by Rachanee Lumayno (non fiction books to read TXT) 📗

I hadn’t realized how afraid I was until I had seen my hand shaking while trying to do the spell. I thought it was a trick of the dim light in the hallway, but once I lit the lamp on the bedside table, I saw that my hand looked different. In fact, my whole arm looked different. My normally olive-toned skin had deepened a few shades, and my skin seemed to have a deep golden metallic sheen to it. There was a faint pattern on my arms, too, but I couldn’t quite make it out.

I unpinned my hair, shaking it loose so it fell around my shoulders. Grabbing a fistful of hair to examine, I saw that my dark hair had golden streaks running through it again. But that couldn’t be right. When I combed through my hair this morning, it was as solid black as it had always been.

Mentally I ran through my options. I could leave tonight, but that would leave me without a place to sleep. Besides, I had already paid for the room. Since I didn’t know the prince’s plans, I didn’t know what time he intended on leaving the next day. But since he was going home to Rothschan, which was about a three days’ ride from Calia, it seemed safe to assume that he and his valet would want to travel at first light. Fortunately I wasn’t going as far; Orchwell was only about a half day’s walk away from where I was currently staying. I decided to wake before sunrise and get back on the road. Hopefully I would be well away from the inn before the prince woke up and started his journey again.

Now that I had a plan in mind, I felt a lot calmer. I unlocked the trunk and fished out my spell book. After an hour or so of study, I put the book down on the bedside table, trimmed the lamp and went to sleep.

I was awakened by the sound of someone trying to get into my room.

Chapter Twelve

I SAT UP IN BED, TOO scared to make a noise. I wasn’t sure how long I had been sleeping, but the moon spilled through the window across the room and created a pool of light just by the door.

A key turned partway in the lock, then stopped, unable to move further. The handle of the door rattled. I reached out and felt around the bedside table, wondering if I could use the lamp as a weapon.

“Why won’t this stupid door unlock? Why won’t my key work?” The voice, although a little muffled by the door, was unmistakably that of Prince Anders.

I slipped out of bed and grabbed the base of the lamp, holding it close to my chest.

The door handle rattled again. “Where’s the innkeeper? This door is broken. Why won’t it unlock?” The prince’s voice was louder now, and slightly slurred.

Footsteps came hastily up the stairs. “Here, Your Grace,” I heard the valet say smoothly. “Let me bring your to your room. I’m afraid that’s not the right one.”

“But it is!” Prince Anders was definitely drunk. “I counted the doors. One. Two.... One.”

There was a thump as something heavy fell against my door. I almost felt bad for the valet.

“Come now, Your Grace,” the valet said. He sounded a bit labored, like he was carrying something — well, someone — heavy. “Just a few steps more.”

I heard some slow, uneven steps as Prince Anders and his valet made their way a few paces beyond my room. The door to the room next to mine opened and shut. After a few moments, I heard snoring coming from that direction.

The door of the prince’s room opened and closed again, and I heard the valet’s footsteps as he passed by my room to his, which must have been the first one at the top of the stairs.

“Idiot,” I heard him mutter. “Rothschan’s well to be rid of him. Heaven help Calia.” The valet’s door opened and shut, and then all was quiet in the hallway once again.

I put the lamp back down on the bedside table and climbed back into bed. While my heart was still racing, I was also proud of how well my lock spell had worked.

I slept fitfully until it was time to get up and leave in earnest. Prince Anders was still snoring loudly in the room next door, which eased my mind about potentially running into him. I hoped the valet was still abed, knowing that the two of them wouldn’t be getting an early start with his master in that state.

I carefully made my way downstairs, where the innkeeper was just building up the fire in the hearth, preparing for his own busy day. He unlocked the door for me and I started down the road toward Orchwell. The stars were gone from the sky and there was a faint orange glow at the horizon when I left.

About an hour later, the sun had risen and I was well on my way to Orchwell. There was no chance now of seeing Prince Anders; he would be taking a different road from the inn since Rothschan lay to the west, and I was headed straight south.

When the sun was almost directly overhead, I noticed there was more traffic on the road. I quickened my step, knowing I was close to my destination. Less than an hour later, and I was there: Orchwell, the Land of Seekers.

Chapter Thirteen

EACH OF THE REALMS in the Gifted Lands has its own unique properties. Calia, for example, produces some of the finest magicians in the world, something that its ruler, King Hendon, barely tolerated. I had always assumed it was because he originally hailed from Rothschan, a land known for its military prowess. The people of Rothschan had a distrust of anything mystical — if it wasn’t logical and easily understood, then it was dangerous and to be avoided. An alliance between