Talon the Black (Dragonwall Series # 1)

Chapter 10 - A Welcome Distraction

Kastali Dun

Saffra was taken before the king, albeit after a good deal of arguing with his guards. It only fueled her agitation.

"Your coming troubles me." The king tossed his quill on the desk, abandoning his task to gaze at her. Braziers cast dancing light around his study and long shadows over his scars. The balcony doors were thrown open much the same as they usually were, admitting the soft sea breeze beyond.

"Your Grace," she said, licking her lips. "I...I apologize for disturbing you. I know your burdens are great." She glanced down where his quill lay discarded. A role of parchment stretched across the desk's surface. Good gods! Had he been working all night? She clenched her robe more tightly about her chest.

"My burdens are indeed great, Lady Saffra. And it seems you wish to bring me another."

She offered him a weak nod. It wasn't as if she asked for her visions—as if this was her fault. Images rushed back to her. Cyrus falling. The sickening crunch of his body slamming into the ground. She winced, reliving it. Her body trembled in response.

"Gods above!" King Talon rushed to his feet and retrieved a cloak from the corner of his study. He threw it about her shoulders, guiding her to the extra chair at his desk. "What have you seen?"

"Cyrus, Your Grace." The words were a weak whisper. "I saw Cyrus."

"You saw him!" The king's eyes widened a measure before he regained composure. "He is alive then?"

"I...do not know. I think..." She faltered.

King Talon loved his Shields. They were brothers to him, his only family.

"I see." His face fell. She had not come to bring him hope. "Tell me what you saw. It is not wise to worry me."

She exhaled. "Cyrus is gravely injured, Your Grace, perhaps dead..."

King Talon's chair slid out from behind him, skidding across the floor as he stood. "What did you see? How do you know this?" He ran a hand through his mangy hair, smoothing the thick tufts aside. She swallowed against the dryness of her throat, trying to ignore her racing heart. "Well?"

"I tried Scrying, Your Grace."

The scars on his face turned silvery-white. "And?"

"I hope what I saw isn't true." But it was. The gods wouldn't have shown her otherwise. She proceeded to describe her vision exactly as she saw it, starting with Cyrus, moving through each scene she witnessed before ending with the thief's red eyes.

King Talon ignored every part except for what concerned Cyrus. She could not fault him for it. "After Cyrus fell, did he live? Did he survive?"

She shut her eyes, unable to bear his fear. A tear slid down her cheeks. "I cannot say, Your Grace."

"He must be alive!" he insisted. "I would have felt his death. I would have known."

"You are certain?" she asked, opening her eyes to find his. Silver with little flecks of gold. The only beautiful facet of an otherwise ruined face.

"I am certain."

She blew out the breath she'd been holding. One small mercy. "Your Grace..." She hesitated. "There is something else."

"Have you not subjected me to enough?" Another tear broke free. She tried to clench the king's cloak more tightly about her shoulders, to hide her trembling. King Talon reclaimed his chair. He slumped down in a very unkingly-like manner. "Very well. Out with it."