Page 22 of King of Fire and Scales

Thalia took a sip of her coffee and was overcome by the full-bodied flavor.

“My goodness,” she said, bringing a hand to her chest.

“Exquisite, isn’t it? Nearly as exquisite as you.”

A deep rosy blush spread to her cheeks, then to her neck. Thalia knew her pale complexion didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“Oh, Drake…” she trilled.

A fiery flirtation had erupted between them, causing Thalia’s heart to skip a few beats. But they were intruded upon by an academic-looking elderly man.

“Excuse me, My King, but the war council awaits.”

A man likely around Thalia’s father’s age stood hunched over beneath the threshold of the kitchen and private dining room. Sun poured brutally over his haggard expression, highlighting skin and bones that had been savagely grated by time. Deep grooves ran along his forehead like steep valleys while the cliff of his sallow cheeks seemed to pool inward.

Cloudy puffs of wispy white hair floated around his head like dust while the eyes glared with muted light. Thalia thought of a child stuck in a well, striking his final, desperate matchstick.

The king grumbled, then met Thalia’s eye. He had a tiredness about him that the Creation Sorceress yearned to subdue.

“Duty waits.” He rose reluctantly, then motioned at the waif-like man waiting in the wings. “Thalia, this is Pyralis Mastons. He is the royal scholar of the Mountain Kingdom. Anything you long to know about my kingdom, Pyralis will know.”

Pyralis shook his head daintily and addressed Thalia with a mouth that looked void of teeth.

“How rude of me! Yes, as our wonderful king said, I can tell you it all, sweet girl. Ancient lore, culture, dragon heritage. All of it. May I keep you company while our king attends his gathering?”

Thalia gazed up at Drake for approval, and he swept his hand over the dining room, still with that reluctant, solemn stare.

“There are guards at every corner, in every room, within every wing, dear Thalia. Pyralis can show you all of the ancient texts we have stocked in the royal library. I do believe there is an entire section on magic and witchcraft.”

Thalia felt herself brighten. She rose from the chair, and before moving toward the royal scholar, gave the king an awkward bow.

“Thank you, My King. I look forward to seeing you soon."

He smirked with pride, swept his cloak from the back of the chair, and whisked away into the castle.

“Shall we?” Pyralis asked.

Thalia was certainly reassured of her safety as they sauntered the halls, catching the eyes of solid, armor-clad soldiers.

The sage elderly scholar led Thalia toward the library at a glacial pace. The cloak he wore was the shade of a gravestone, shrouding a body that was likely slender underneath.

“So, tell me, dear one,” he began, a small titter to his voice. “You must be eager to drink in all of the knowledge of this peculiar land that you find yourself in, no? I can answer anything you may be curious about.”

Thalia was a little fraught about correcting such a sensitive-looking man but knew that the truth would be excavated at some point. She divulged to him as they passed several guards.

“I am intrigued by these lands, but I must say I am primarily interested in learning about the skills of witchcraft. Particularly the ones that pertain to healing. My father is not well.”

The gray sickly hues of Pyralis’s expression disappeared for a moment.

“My word, that is something. I have heard such rumors about you, that you lack interest in your fate as Creation Sorceress. Is this true?”

Thalia didn’t want to seem like she was gossiping on her first day in the castle, but she didn’t have much else to speak of. She wasn’t even sure that with the pace Pyralis was gliding along they would arrive at the famed library this year.

“Yes, you are correct. I do not have any dreams of obtaining such a title. My only interest in traveling so far across the Wildwoods is to help my father become healthy and young again.”

Pyralis had his head turned toward her as they leisurely walked, then unhurriedly rotated it back toward the maroon runner they trailed upon. His smile had not lost its luster since they’d spoken about Thalia being the Creation Sorceress.

“Perhaps…” he said, swallowing dryly. Then he muttered quietly as if incanting to himself. “Perhaps you do not see the larger picture yet. Come, I will show you everything you need to know about the history of the Creation Sorceresses. Once you see what is possible, there is no way you will be capable of denying your destiny.”

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