The dwarf threw more gold on him. Everywhere it touched, it melted against Greed, slowly encasing the creature within.
“That which gives you power also binds you.”
“You fool. Release me. You will die too,” Greed begged.
“I’ve fought you countless times in my lifetime. Now, I will guard you in my death.” The dwarf gave one last rattling breath as the heat became too much for even him to bear.
“Rumple!” Greed screamed as he sunk deeper. “I will escape. This can’t hold me forever.”
“No,” Rumple wheezed. He crawled onto the throne, pulling his axe across his lap. He leaned back as the chair slowly sank into a pool of molten gold, adding to the gilded prison that would confine this demon. “It just needs to hold you long enough. Until another can take up my mantle. And there will be another like me. One who will fight you and defeat you when I could not. I promise.”
Greed’s voice rose in a pitiful wail, echoing against the walls, “No-o-o.”
The mountain quaked in response, collapsing inward, burying them both in a chamber of gold before it settled.
CHAPTER ONE
“Rhea, it’s time,” Mother said, her face grim as she inspected my trunk. She latched the strap, then tested the strength of the worn leather. “There’s no use waiting any longer. To delay could mean great travesty.” She gave it a last tug, resting her hand on my luggage that was strapped to the back of the waiting transport.
“The magic mirror has gone silent before. Maybe it’s having another temper tantrum,” I said numbly, referring to the mirror that hung in our sitting room that we used to spy on the neighboring kingdoms.
Mother’s piercing eyes left little room for argument. Now that the cruel sorcerer Allemar was gone, there was only one name that was still whispered in fear on the breath of children. And it was my mother’s name—Lorelai Eville. To the world, Lady Eville was one of the most feared sorceresses: cruel and unforgiving. To me, she was my adoptive mother. One who had taken pity on the golden-haired child left on her doorstep. She had raised me and my sisters to be powerful, fearless, and coldhearted like her. With me, she succeeded at two of the three. My heart was more lukewarm than frozen, and I let my head do the thinking more than my heart.
“Not like this,” Mother said firmly. “The mirror was created in Kiln, a gift from my father before he died. It’s my link to my home. It can always see home.” Her eyes fluttered. She was doing everything she could to hide her pain. “Something is wrong there. Something powerful has taken up residence in the kingdom and is blocking my scrying. You need to find out what it is and eliminate it.”
“Eliminate it. It sounds like you already know what it is?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. I dare not speak it out loud until I know more.”
“What about sending Honor?” I asked, referring to my sister who spent more time roaming the country with Lorn, our Elven friend. She was on her way to becoming a master spy and hunter.
“This isn’t a job for Honor. You were always supposed to go to Kiln. Your magic will be stronger there, unlike here.” She opened the door to the transport wagon waiting outside our home.
I balked. My magic was a joke. I was the bookworm. I excelled at alchemy, potions, and forging charms. Magic that had proven outcomes for correct steps. Magic that could be taught. I wasn’t born with talent, or magical gifts like my sisters. Gifts that were passed down from their talented lineage that always led back to a powerful ancestral tree. My tree was barren, the sparse fruit just adequate. Which made me feel lacking in this powerful family of sorcerers. My very normal parents, Nell and Martin Free, were millers, and with the loss of their workshop to debt collectors, they were relocating to another kingdom when I was a baby. They died before ever reaching Sion. I appeared in a handbasket on Lorelai’s stoop, bearing nothing but a necklace with a silver charm made from a rare ore found in the Ragnar Mountains.
I grasped the charm for comfort as a soft note rang out. A note only I could hear. I cast a look at the brown padded bench seat inside the transport, the inter-kingdom carriage. Currently, there were no passengers, but that didn’t mean we wouldn’t pick up any on the way to Kiln. The driver, with his oversized hat, seemed oblivious to our conversation. He’d probably had witnessed hundreds of goodbyes just like this.
Lady Eville backed away to stand by the front stoop. Our home, an old guard tower, with an added main house and workshop, loomed high, casting a shadow over the front yard. With all of my sisters gone, spread out across the seven kingdoms, it seemed too spacious and lonely. Is this how the villagers saw our tower? Foreboding and dark? Most gave us a wide birth after my sister, Meri, killed one of the mayor’s sons in self-defense. We avoided town at all costs, and so its people shunned us. Now our home was no longer filled with my sisters’ laughter as they cast spells and curses over each other. It was filled with silence and sorrow.
Maybe it was better that I was leaving.
“You know what you need to do,” Lady Eville said. It wasn’t a question.
I nodded, swallowing thickly. As I stepped onto the wobbly ledge and slid onto the bench seat, the transport door closed behind me. Turning, I leaned out the window to gaze at my mother. Her lips pinched together, and I saw the barest hint of a tremble, but she cut it off. Her raven black hair was pulled back into a bun, and I noticed the slightest streaks of silver. How long had those been there? She buried her hands in her apron pocket and looked north toward the direction I would be travelling.
“You could come with?” I whispered. “Visit your old home.”
Her eyes narrowed, and her breath hitched. She shook her head. “No, I won’t go back there. There are too many memories. But Eville Manor still stands. I’ve seen to that. You can find refuge there while you plan your next steps.”
Lady Eville was born in Kiln. Her house was quite wealthy, and she had been engaged to the Prince of Sion, but when her family lost their fortune, the prince spurned her. They were not treated well at the high court, and her father died in her arms after suffering a heart attack. She had retreated to this remote location to heal her bitter and broken heart while diligently watching over the seven kingdoms. Some women healed a broken heart by investing their time and energy into a new hobby: gardening, sewing, quilting. Our adoptive mother healed by raising and training seven powerful daughters, each of us specializing in the magical arts. It was a deadly weapon that could defend or cause harm, dependent on our moods. We were pointed like a compass of power and revenge to wherever our mother wanted us to go.
And for me, my compass pointed north to the Kingdom of Kiln. High in the snowy mountains, filled with goblins, dwarves, and gold. Something dark was brewing in the kingdom. Her magic mirror told her so, and she waited as long as she dared. It was time to send me in her stead to hunt out the problem . . . and do a little digging while I was there.
“Rhea, when you get there, seek out Grimkeep.” She pressed a piece of paper into my palm, his name written in her handwriting. “He is the only one I trust. Speak not about your intentions. Do you understand? It’s been too long since I’ve returned. I do not know the political climate of the kingdom since the mirror has gone dark. But at one time, King Goddrick was a kind ruler.” The slightest pink rose in her cheeks as she spoke of him. She reached up to brush a strand of my honey-brown hair behind my ear. Then her gentle touch became firmer as she rubbed at the soot marring my cheek left behind from my earlier project. “Really, Rheanon, you couldn’t keep yourself clean for even one day,” she chastised. “They’re going to think you're a dwarf with how dirty you always are.”