Page 117 of A Kingdom Restored

“Do not lose hope, Heath,” Reka said softly.

Heath looked up, startled. Lose hope about what? They’d achieved their ends, against all the odds. Percival was free of the dungeons, and the triple kingdoms were safe from the dragons. What was left to fear?

Reka’s knowing smile said that he saw straight through Heath’s apparent nonchalance.

“Your bond with her is strong,” the dragon said evenly. “With a strength that almost tastes of magic.” He shook his head. “There is a reason you recognized the power on the attackers when I did not. You are more intimately familiar with that signature of magic than probably anyone else in existence, outside of the merpeople themselves. Your connection to Merletta has given you a link to her kind that no other human can boast. The strength of your ability to follow her in farsight is remarkable for one so early in learning the craft. I have even suspected from some of your words that you may have been able to see her memories in your dreams, as dragons can construct their own.”

Stunned, Heath said nothing.

“My point is,” Reka went on, “I do not believe that simple realities such as distance and form will be powerful enough to break that connection, or permanently separate you.”

“Thanks, Reka,” Heath said softly. From where he was standing, distance and form seemed fairly substantial barriers, but he appreciated the sentiment behind his friend’s words.

With a nod, Reka took to the air in pursuit of his father, leaving the group of humans standing in the wintry courtyard.

Chapter Thirty-Four

The first snow fell only days later, and Heath greeted it without any great enthusiasm. He used to be able to see the magic in winter, but now his body longed for the humid warmth of a very different climate.

He kept a regular eye on Merletta as he went about life over the following couple of weeks. She was very much occupied with the affairs of the triple kingdoms, and Heath was reassured to see that she was no longer vulnerable and exposed. Her friends were usually with her, and she seemed to have guards shadowing her most of the time.

All a natural lead up to commencing her training to one day take on the role of Record Master.

His breakthrough on the island didn’t fade—Heath felt much more in control of his magic than he ever had before, and it presented no challenge for him to follow Merletta while still focusing on his true surroundings. The Record Master’s surviving guard had been arrested in Arinton, and had since faced sentence for his part in the plot against Valoria. Not that it had done much to mollify the king regarding the prisoner’s escape, from what Heath had seen.

But life went on. Preparations for the Winter Solstice Festival were in full swing, and although Heath could muster no excitement, he undertook any task asked of him without complaint.

When he was called to the castle to meet with the king a week before the festival, however, he found himself reluctant to perform the requested feat.

“Be honest,” Lachlan said calmly. “I only agreed to this on the basis that you would be entirely free to speak your mind, without consequences.”

Heath looked from the prince to the king, wondering how to phrase it. His father shifted beside him—the duke had been with him when he’d received the king’s summons, and had casually announced his intention to accompany his son.

“Firstly, I don’t actually know whether Rekavidur has the ability to heal your hand,” Heath said. “He probably doesn’t know himself. He’s still a young dragon, and much of his power hasn’t yet been tested.”

The king waited, clearly grasping that there was more to come.

“My other concern is…” Heath hesitated, then sighed. There was no point beating about the bush. “He doesn’t have an overly high opinion of you, Your Majesty,” he said frankly. “I’m sure you’ll conclude that I’ve disparaged you to him, but in actual fact, he’s drawn his own conclusions.” He glanced at Lachlan. “Perhaps as you took the attack against your son more to heart than Lachlan did himself, as my friend, Rekavidur had a stronger reaction to the restrictions against me as a power-wielder—not to mention the public penalty I received—even than I did.”

The king still said nothing, his expression grave but not angry as Heath had half-expected. He almost looked regretful. Heath didn’t know what had passed between Lachlan and his father in the weeks since the Record Master’s death—he had most fastidiously resisted using his farsight to find out—but the changes in the king, although subtle, were noticeable. It seemed Lachlan had spoken the truth when he hinted at his father having learned something from his own errors. Much as he would have liked a true apology from the king, he realized it was unlikely. It was a comfort to think that in his new confidence, Lachlan had most likely spoken to his father about the events much more frankly in private than he ever would in public.

The door to the small receiving room opened, and Heath looked up to see his grandmother entering, little Jacqueline perched on her hip.

He blinked in surprise at the sight of his infant niece, even more confused when Laura came into the room behind her grandmother, Germain in her arms.

“I apologize for my delay in responding to your invitation, Matlock,” said the elderly princess pleasantly. “I had Laura and her children visiting with me.”

“And I rudely invited myself along,” Laura said brightly. In spite of her cheerful words, she cast Heath a look of concern, and he could feel her magic probing the mood of the group.

He understood—she must have heard that he had been summoned as well as their grandmother, and come to make sure belated punishment wasn’t being meted out for his actions. Unless he was mistaken, it was the same reason his father had tagged along.

He gave her a reassuring smile, and she came to stand beside him. The king repeated his request to his aunt, the plea making him sound more vulnerable than Heath had ever heard him. He had no doubt that had the injury been to himself, King Matlock would not have been willing to go to these lengths. But for his son, it seemed he was.

The elderly princess considered for a long moment before responding.

“I have wondered if you would make this request,” she said softly. She let out a sigh. “But I don’t have an encouraging answer for you.”

The king frowned. “But surely your dragon friend, Elddreki, is capable. Didn’t he heal your mother of a potentially fatal wound?”

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