Page 5 of To Catch a Prince

So, he’d taken both and made Norda hishome.

Vincent was given three hundred men to guard it; this was a job Rhey had entrusted to him because he knew just how seriously Vincent tookit.

He’d seen villages pillaged, castles burned, and foreign dragons descending upon them. He’d never see it again if it could behelped.

Occasionally, Rhey called him to Telenar and made him take a break away from his post; when he didn’t, Vincent remained here, in the high tower on guard, arms folded behind his back, eyes fixed on the other side of theirwall.

Thirty years, he’d protected the opening, yet he was as vigilant now as he had been on the firstday.

Today felt different, although Vincent couldn’t tell how, exactly; it was perhaps too quiet. No animal, no sound, nothing troubled the darkening winter day. There wasn’t so much as an eagle in sight. His eyesnarrowed.

“Kross,” he called, his voice thundering across thefortress.

His best man appeared within minutes. Kross was his foreman, and his wings, when need be. Proud as they were, dragons did not like to be ridden, yet the dominant, humongous creature let Vincent fly on his back inbattle.

In his human form, the man was large, bulky, with a head almost entirely covered in red hair; a long beard and hair plaited down his back. Like Vincent, he was a half-breed, rather than a pure dragon; his father had been abear.

Some said his mixed heritage was the reason why Vincent didn’t shift. When they uttered their nonsense within Kross’ hearing range, the gentle giant towered over them and glowered until they squirmed. Such was hisloyalty.

“You’re heading the patrol outsidetonight?”

His memory rarely failed him but he asked, nonetheless. His man replied, “Aye, with four other guards, in a couple of hours, through tomidnight.”

“Make that five,” Vincent replied. “I’ll be in theparty.”

Kross lifted a surprised brow. Vincent liked surveying the lands from highground.

“Sir?”

“Just a feeling,” he said. He might have left it at that if he’d been speaking to anyone else. As he trusted Kross, he added, “There’s something in the air, I can almost tasteit.”

He was young, for one of his kind, but his three hundred years of experience had taught him to trust his instincts. Particularly those he couldn’texplain.

“I’ll post another dozen guards, then,” his foremanannounced.

At first,Vincent felt almost embarrassed with his unfounded dread, but as the afternoon darkened, close to dusk, the men he walked with grew tense, shifty and startled by their ownsteps.

“Magics,” Grojn whispered. “By my scales, I sense magics aroundus.”

This shouldn’t have been such alarming news; dragons could perform elemental spells - fire and air were their natural friends, of course, but some of their kind had an affinity with earth, and even water, sometimes. They also had plenty of allies with magics about them. Yet, they were all on their guard, mistrusting the power they felt. An ally wouldn’t have hid in the darkness, creeping around them the way this mage was. Vincent knew more than most about all magics and he recognized the feel of the spells aroundthem.

Long ago,when he’d been young and easily impressed, he’d had the good fortune meet the cold and mysterious elf prince of Endar, Argon. The prince was born with more gifts in his pinky finger than a thousand mages; he was what they called an Aether-bornSorcerer.

Aether was an element of the immaterial world, a force of goodness. Being in the presence of an Aether-born was a blessing Vincent would never forget. But then, as children often did, he’d asked the first intrusive question that came to mind: “What does Shadow feel like,Prince?”

For Shadow was Aether’s opposite, the power of evil that balanced the world. He’d read that anyone infused with Aether was born with just as muchShadow.

“Vincent!” his father had groaned, apologetic. “Sorry, friend. Children could start wars with their unruly tongues, if we letthem.”

“If we let them,” Argon hadreplied.

The elf then crouched to be at eye level withVincent.

“I sense courage about you, fire-breather,” he said. “Let’s see howmuch.”

Argon, dressed in red and gold as a member of the court of Endar, had light, almost luminous, skin and hair black as night. If anyone had asked, Vincent would have said that the elf radiated an otherworld energy, something pure, raw, butgood.

Then, the elf smiled. It was not a friendly sort of smile at all - no, this one was malicious, downright cruel. Like a coat that could be removed at will, he shed all his goodness, his benevolence, revealing something dark and hollow underneath. Vincent noticed how blue his eyes really were - a cold blue, piercing him down to hisbones.

---