Igniting A Flame {Kingdoms #1}

Fifty-One

"This is it," Cesca breathed, circling a stout, towering tree.

Lukas coughed, shaking his fixated trance as he stumbled over to the glorious tree. "Yes, it is quite large."

"No, no." Furiously digging up soil, Cesca flitted from root to root. "Do you remember that nursery rhyme? When bountiful life falls weak to the...Er, I forgot the rest. You know, the ancient tree where bodies are buried and dark fairies collect them to dispose in a ritualistic way. Quite dark for a children's tale."

"Cesca, what are you talking about?"

"The tree, Lukas! A tunnel connects the dark fairies underground so they may complete their tasks. The mystic vibrations of this tree speak to me, ancient and wise. The tale must be true then, don't you think? And what better place to hide a wicked king than a tunnel spoken in fables?"

"You're basing our enemy's whereabouts on a children's tale?" Lukas scoffed, raising a brow as he watched the frantic woman covered in muck. For a moment, he questioned what beauty he saw in this utterly insane person.

Tearing apart thin, sprawled roots shrouding a strange object, Cesca bellowed a pleasant scream. Lukas's teasing grin faded as he stood poised atop the rubble of soil, iron thatch peeking from the dirt.

"Holy gods," he breathed. "You beautiful genius! How..."

Lukas noticed Cesca's wan expression, shaky and fearful, for his face wandered to a similar representation. He suddenly felt weak, paper thin, as his knees trembled. He tried to keep his posture steady, frightened by what creatures may be alerted if he rumbled the ground. It all seemed far too real, far too close. Lukas glided his hands beneath the cloak concealing his weapons, to the phantom pocket where that menacing stone once lied, as if it were the answer to his problems—as if its lethal power would save him.

"I'll grab the others," Cesca stuttered, "Somehow."

Watching as she dashed into the distance, Lukas hadn't felt alone for that lingering sense of dread shadowed him like a shroud of unrelenting terror. That evanescent moment of euphoria vanished; his heart racing with something other than lust. He glared at the thatch, dangerously gleaming in the sunlight, apprehensively. He found his hands desperately searching for something to do, picking at the strings of his cloak, running through his hair.

Lukas grasped the topaz ring shielded in his pocket, clutching to it like a child to its mother in a crowd. That was what he was doing, really. Holding onto the memory of what he lost, her sweet voice singing through the forest; echoing. Those illusive dreams ringing in his head, a king and his mother. He grazed the bewitching swirls of orange in the topaz jewel, that same pattern and ring mimicked in a dream he had once. And before that, another dream of his father encountering the king with seething ire. There was more to this story, more to uncover about his previous king, more lies.

Moments later, Lukas's entire court returned to him pacing furiously back and forth. Arvin, arms crossed and suspicious, studied the thatch whilst Yevvi glanced to Lukas in silent inquiry. Raising his brows as if to say, are you all right? Lukas forced a nod, feigning strength despite the shiver down his spine. Taking his monstrous hatchet and swinging it in one hefty swipe, Arvin split the lock holding the thatch together and heaved it upwards. A dim string of lanterns spiralled into unknown depths, a staircase into certain danger.

"A nursery rhyme, really?" Arvin scowled, turning to Cesca. "Well, let's go."

"Wait," Lukas jumped forward, staring intently at the depths. "Let me go first."