Page 13 of A Warrior's Heart
I let them have their fun at my expense. I suspected it would be one of the last lighthearted moments for a very long time.
Theron wiggled in my arms, and I set him back down. He plopped to his butt and moved the toy horse along the wooden floor.
“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting,” Lorcan said to Nereus.
Nereus dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “It’s an honor to be in your presence, my prince. I am called Nereus. I’m a soldier in your father’s army.”
“No need to bow,” Lorcan said. “You may rise.”
The soldier stood but kept his eyes downcast. Like me, his very existence was to serve the royal bloodline. That respect was ingrained in him.
A tussle of silver hair moved from the corner of my eye, and then Theron was beside Nereus, staring up at him with big green eyes.
“Well, hello,” Nereus said to the toddler, kneeling back down.
Theron placed a hand on Nereus’ face and stared at him a moment before flashing a toothy grin. Then he ran over to Eva, showing her his toy.
“He does that to everyone new he meets,” Lorcan said, staring after his son. A tic started in his jaw.
“Something worries you,” I said.
Lorcan met my gaze, and I’d never seen him look so tired. “Many things worry me, old friend.” He nodded toward the table. “Come. Let’s sit and talk. Tell me what’s happened in Avalontis since I’ve been gone.”
Chapter Four
Troy
A reunion of friends. A joyous occasion that warmed my heart despite my fear of being in the surface world. Once the tea was made, we sat around the table and reminisced of the old days while also telling each other what had happened since our last visit.
Alek returned home after a while and greeted us with surprise, closely followed by excitement.
It was still somewhat of a shock to see him since the Black Hallows battle. He had been killed that night and his body had been possessed by the dark mage, Hamon. Alek’s soul had found the body of a fallen warrior from Avalontis named Theron and taken it over—which was who they’d named their son after. Instead of black hair and blue eyes, he now had dark blond hair and brown eyes.
The connection between him and Lorcan remained the same, however. If not stronger.
When Fletcher and Kellan arrived later that evening, there were smiles and excited claps on the backs as everyone greeted each other. But then the mood grew somber.
“You all wonder why we’re here,” Malik spoke, the flames from the fire in the hearth causing shadows to flicker across his face. “I regret to say that the visit comes from duty and not from pleasure.” He looked at Lorcan. “Your father has bestowed a quest upon me.”
“What type of quest?” Lorcan asked, holding his son in his arms. Theron played with Lorcan’s hair, oblivious to the heavy discussion around him.
“King James is in search of a weapon,” Malik answered, his brow drawn tight. The light caught his orange eyes and made them glow brighter. “If this weapon falls into his hands, it could mean absolute devastation among our kind. My mission is to locate the weapon before he does.”
That much I knew… yet I still didn’t know the significance of the weapon. What made it so powerful?
“What I say must stay between us,” Malik continued, moving his gaze among everyone. “The weapon has the power to kill a god. It’s the lost trident of Poseidon.”
Lorcan paled. “My grandfather’s trident? But it hasn’t been seen in many centuries.”
“I know.” Malik nodded. “The trident is said to have disappeared upon Poseidon’s death. Hidden itself.”
“So, King James hopes to find the trident?” Lorcan asked. “For what purpose? It’s a weapon of the sea.”
A chill shot down my spine. “Think about it, Lor. The trident has the power to kill a god. With it, James will be able to defeat King Triton and control both the land and sea. He’ll finally get what he’s been after for years.”
Reif glared at the floor, and Eva gaped. Nereus looked just as stunned. Malik hadn’t told any of them the truth until now, and it made me feel better at having been kept in the dark about it as well.
Fletcher pressed his hands together and lifted them to his chin, an image of deep contemplation. “I’m familiar with several myths surrounding the trident. Some believe it to be hidden in ice up north, while other tales say it sunk to the depths of the sea, awaiting the return of its master.”
