A Time of Darkness (The Circle of Talia) Read Free

For the sake of The Circle, Avruellen, and all of Talia, you need to be grateful you’ve been pardoned. I want you to get up and promise me you won’t murder another dragon.”
    Bronwyn hesitated. While she struggled to accept what Agmunsten said, hearing her aunt’s name was like a slap in the face. Avruellen would not forgive her if she gave up, no matter the reason. And where was her aunt? Was she okay? She stood gingerly, taking a moment to regain her balance. She looked at Agmunsten. “I promise I won’t murder any other dragons. I’m so sorry.” She cast her eyes down.
    “It’s okay, child, but remember: I’ll be watching you. If Drakon or Sinjenasta asks you to do anything else, check with me first.”
    Bronwyn nodded and let Agmunsten lead her out of the cell. When she saw that the door to Sinjenasta’s cell stood open, she asked where he was.
    “I don’t know. I’m hoping he’s talking to the Master of War.” Agmunsten stood beside Bronwyn to see the empty cell for himself. He hadn’t expected Bertholimous would have elicited Sinjenasta’s promise so soon. The head realmist twirled the end of his beard between graceful fingers and hoped nothing was amiss.
    Still tired from days of trying to heal Arcon, he turned slowly and walked towards the stairs that led to the upper levels of Vellonia. “Follow me, Bronwyn. We’re going to see the King of the Dragons.”
    Bronwyn was glad Agmunsten took his time. It allowed her to observe the grandeur of the intermountain castle and distracted her from depressing thoughts.  Rich furnishings, placed at intervals, adorned the halls, but the beauty came from the natural surroundings. Polished stone contrasted with rough. Thin veins of gold slashed a glittery path across the walls, and Bronwyn was reminded of the shimmering skin of the sacred lake. Where she expected to see low, constricting ceilings, there were soaring domes where hundreds of candles burnt in small nooks carved out by the dragons.
    Agmunsten stopped, eyes widening. Bronwyn bumped into his back. “Oops. Sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. Is this where the king is?” The young realmist couldn’t see any doors and wondered if the king hid behind an invisible door that operated by power from the Second Realm.
    “No, dear. Something’s happened. The king will have to wait.” When Agmunsten moved this time, it was with the haste of an eager young man.

Chapter 3
     
    Agmunsten bustled in the open door, and Bronwyn hung back. She took a hesitant step into the room to see Agmunsten already sitting on a chair by the bed, his hands placed on another man’s head; white hair poked out between his fingers. Bronwyn felt a sense of familiarity as she studied the patient. Her musings were interrupted when she realized someone else was in the room.
    She turned to see a young man, about her age, staring back at her. A rat sat on his shoulder. Even though she knew she had never seen him before, she was drawn to him. There was something whispering that she knew him. Her blood vibrated in her veins, telling her it was obvious if she just looked. She had a flash of a hulking dragon towering over him, its mouth big enough to eat him in one bite. Bronwyn shuddered. It was the same dragon from her nightmares—the ones that left her screaming out for Avruellen. She blinked, and it was gone.
    A raspy voice, barely louder than a whisper, spoke. “Ah, Bronwyn, meet Blayke. He’s my apprentice. And the little fellow is Fang.” He paused for a breath. “Do you recognize me, child?”
    Brownyn turned to see Agmunsten’s hands relaxed in his lap. The other man, the one who had spoken, leaned back into his pillows, but his eyes shone with the brilliance of the symbols of the Second Realm.
    Her mouth made an O, and she thrust her chin forward. “You’re Arcon! I remember now … from the meeting of The Circle.” For the first time in many days, her forehead was crease -free, her worries forgotten for a