The Bearstruck chimera that had once been the Questing Knight Gawain slumped over to stand behind the Forgotten King. He kept dropping to all fours, then standing up on his hind legs, clearly fighting the urge to go feral in his new, horrible form.
The king reached out and patted his head. “There, you see, Bear? Isn’t that better? You’re wondering why you fought all those years against your true nature. But your king understands, and your king forgives.” He turned to Treffen and Emerald. “Indeed, all are welcome to join the army of the true king.”
“My father is the true king. You’re just a goat in a basement.”
His hairy brows scowled. “You forget yourself, Princess.” His face resumed its normally placid expression. “But no matter. The Consul knows my worth. Even through the long years of imprisonment in this . . . basement . . . I have proven myself superior to the rulers above ground. And my Midnight Queen has also seen the value of the Shadow King.”
It took Treffen a moment to realize the goat-creature was referring to himself. Shadow King indeed. Emerald is right. He’s nothing down here. But . . . a queen? Treffen searched his memory. The Betrayer had intended to marry the daughter of King Felspar. She realized his evil in time and refused him, thus setting off the war which resulted in his long incarceration. Has he forced some girl to marry him down here? Treffen shuddered at the thought.
The king looked down the hall to the final lit point of the star-shaped room. “The world has forgotten me,” he said, almost to himself. “They speak of me as legend, as myth. They threaten their children in my name, saying, ‘Behave, or the Shadow King will get you.’”
“That’s not what we call you,” Emerald interrupted.
He rounded on her, stalking up to stand right in front of her. “It matters not one small bit what you call me, Princess.” He turned the title into a curse. “For soon I shall be free. The Consul and the Midnight Queen have promised that Crystalia Castle shall be mine, putting right a thousand years of wrong. All the subjects of Crystalia shall bow to me and to the Midnight Queen.” His lips curled into a small smile. “Well, nearly all. You, my dear, will never bow before my throne.”
“Darned right I won’t.” Emerald was as upright as she could be, forced to her knees by the chimeras at her sides.
He doesn’t mean you’re too proud. He means you’ll be dead. Treffen wouldn’t say it aloud. He suspected Emerald had misunderstood on purpose.
The king bounced on the balls of his feet, which were barely visible under his robe. “And in moments, it will all be over. All this”—he indicated the dark, damp chamber—” will be but a chapter in the storied history of the Shadow King.” He looked like a child with a birthday present, just waiting to unwrap the shiny paper. “So very long I have waited for this moment. So very long.”
Emerald drew a breath to speak, but Treffen hissed at her to be still. The whole time the king had been speaking, Treffen had been working on his bonds. The way he’d held his wrists when the chimeras had tied him left a bit of slack when he pressed his arms together. It was a very old trick, but one the chimeras hadn’t known or hadn’t cared about. Inch by inch, he’d worked them down until his hands had slipped free. Now he held the ropes wrapped around his hands, giving the illusion that he was still tied. A glance over at Emerald showed she’d done the same thing. Thank you, Master Birch. For both of us.
The king was still talking. “Of the five seals that once held me captive, only one remains. The houses of the rebellious Knights have all fallen. Now only the power of the crystal crown holds me in this wretched place. And when your blood spills,” he said to Emerald, “that final seal will shatter. And the world will learn why they should never have forgotten my name.”
The king reached for Emerald, and Treffen lunged forward, but his captors held him fast.
“And what shall be your token, Princess?” The king knocked Emerald’s hat onto the floor and kicked it out of the way.
“You’ll pay for that,” she muttered, audible only to Treffen.
He searched in her wild green curls but came up empty handed. “No crown, Princess? No tiara?”
“I’m not really a tiara kind of girl,” she said, eyes narrow.
“No, my dear, I can see that you’re not.” His eyes lit on the jewel she wore at her throat, a large faceted emerald on a chain. “But I believe that will do.” He reached for the jewel, and quick as a cat, Emerald sank her teeth into the Betrayer’s hand.
Blood welled up in the wound as the king ripped his hand from Emerald’s mouth. He scowled at the princess. “I have lived for centuries. You think a few teeth marks will slow me down?”
The king held out his hand, and Treffen watched with horror as the wound closed up before his eyes, blood drying into powder and falling away into dust motes.
“I am immortal. I am forever.” He reached forward again and yanked the chain from Emerald’s neck. “And you . . .” He smiled. “You are not.”
Treffen gritted his teeth. It’s now or never. his bow, his machete, and Emerald’s rifle . . . in the far corner of the room. Here goes nothing.
Treffen feinted backward, confusing his captors for a moment, then lunged forward again, flinging the ropes onto the floor. He made a grab for the Forgotten King, who had turned to the side as he reached into his robe pocket for the knife. Treffen leapt onto the king’s back, tackling him away from Emerald.
The king disappeared from underneath him, popping up three steps behind him. Treffen flopped to the floor, rapping his chin on the stones. The chimeras made a dive, grabbing him by the arms and hauling him back in line next to Emerald.
“Oh, little elf, your training is incomplete.” The king chuckled. “Perhaps the eldest of your kind remember the powers I once controlled. But I’ve been down here a very long time with nothing to do but practice. You’ve already seen some of my new tricks. And now you’ve seen another.” He disappeared again and popped up right behind Treffen, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “Who knows what else I’ve learned?”
He strode back around in front of his kneeling captives. “And so, little elf, I offer you the chance to join the army of the Shadow King. You’re a crafty fellow, and quick.” He nodded at the ropes Treffen had slipped. “The Shadow King will accept your vow of allegiance. You are a child of the Deeproot Tree. You understand lumber. I would give you the great honor of leading my axmen into the grove and directing their blades to fell the loathsome old thing. I will even give you some of the wood to make your very own bow. No other elf has ever had such a thing.”
Treffen’s stomach churned. Fell the Deeproot Tree? He swallowed bile at the thought of Her majestic trunk crashing to the ground in a riot of axes.
“I would rather die than see Her fall,” he whispered.
The king shrugged. “So be it.” He turned to Gawain, who slouched in the corner, grumbling low.
“Bear, prove your loyalty. Kill the elf.”