Talon the Black (Dragonwall Series # 1)

Chapter 38 - The Trial

Kastali Dun

Claire's heart raced the moment she heard footsteps outside her cell. She shrank back into the corner. All this time she had waited, furious. Now she no longer wanted to leave the darkness of her familiar cage. An empty hopelessness settled over her, weighing heavily on her shoulders. In everyone's eyes she was already guilty. The Promise wouldn't let her argue otherwise. It trapped the answers, and there was only one person who could free them.

The heavy door creaked open. Guards beckoned her out. She hesitated.

The time had come to face the king.

Glancing once more around her cell, she moved forward in a trancelike state. If the guards noticed her internal struggle, they made no note of it. They led her through the keep at a quick pace. Numb, she hardly noticed the rich sculptures lining the corridors, or the decadent hangings on the walls. She did not admire the ornate architecture with its arched windows and vine-carved doors. Even less attention was paid to the passersby, who stopped to gawk and whisper.

A rough hand found her arm, forcing her to stop. Giant double doors towered above her like menacing trolls, barring her entry. She knew immediately that these led into the king's court. It was a mercy they were closed. Her facade of strength crumbled. She began trembling.

"Can I...can I have a moment?" she croaked, her voice little more than a whisper.

They nodded and stepped away several paces.

She looked down at herself, readjusting her clothes. She'd decided to wear the gown given to her by the Sprites. Compared to her jeans and T-shirt, it was the only suitable clothing for a king's court. She wanted to look her best.

When she looked back up at the doors, a fresh wave of nausea clenched her gut. She put a hand over her stomach, hoping she wouldn't be sick all over the floor.

"I can't do this," she whispered, too low for the guards to hear. She didn't have the fortitude to face the king. She glanced down the corridor. What would happen if she dodged the guards and took off? How far would she make it through the castle before they captured her?

Cyrus?

She wasn't sure why she called to him. He was dead, after all. But some impractical notion hinted at the a shared connection between them. Ever since her flight over Kastali Dun, a part of her had known that Cyrus was with her. She couldn't explain how. All she knew was she needed him now more than ever.

Cyrus, what do I do?

Her question was met with silence. Maybe she was being absurd to expect an estranged voice to answer. But he was her only life-line.

Cyrus, Please! I need you—

I am here.

She gasped. Emotion slammed into her like powerful waves against a rocky shoreline, sending mist and foam high into the air in a tumultuous crash of water. She exhaled and took several gasps of air. Her eyes stung. Was it really him? Was this Cyrus?

I am here. I will always be here.

It had been his voice...all this time? How had she missed that?

Even the best of us can neglect the most obvious signs. Be brave, Claire. You saved me, remember? You are stronger than you know.

She gulped down air. I want to be brave, she said, but I don't feel brave at all.

You are too hard on yourself.

Was she? Perhaps he was right, but at the moment, she felt like a coward. If she could, she would have run away and left this all behind.