The Night Queen's Curse: A Sinzar Chronicles Novel (The Sinzar Chronicles), page 1
The Night Queen’s Curse
The Sinzar Chronicles
Niro J Hayle
The Night Queen’s Curse
A Sinzar Chronicles Novel
Copyright © 2022 by Niro J Hayle
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
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This book is a work of fiction. All the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Contents
Prologue
Part I
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Part II
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Part III
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Acknowledgments
Also by Niro J Hayle
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Prologue
“Guard your mortal heart well, Diana.
Do not trust the people of Sinzar.”
The Fae Prince’s advice rings in my mind.
But alas, I am the fool who fell in love with the moon.
Part I
Merle
Chapter One
The TV is buzzing with the broadcast of the countdown to the new year. Thousands of people have gathered over at the Thames, waiting for the chimes from the Big Ben.
Society dictates that the opening to a brand-new year should be welcomed with a blast. This year is extra special than the rest because it’s the start of a new millennium. I chose to celebrate quietly at home, as always.
I smile a little, remembering an old 70s sci-fi movie I watched yesterday with Lily. People back then thought humans in the year 2000 would be exploring the universe with high tech airships and flying cars. People of the past were so optimistic for us.
The chatter from the coffeemaker interrupts my thoughts. I hop from the comfy couch and rush to the kitchen. Lily got me this machine last year for my birthday. The satisfying aroma of the grounded coffee bean is enough to keep me awake tonight. I sip my warm drink and listen to the two reporters discussing the theories of what the new era may bring.
Some people say the world will end this year, while others claim it will be twelve years from now, like the Mayans predicted. My thoughts this evening are not that morbid. New Year’s Eve is always a good time to reflect on myself. I have achieved little financially and most of last year’s resolution have not been met. Hopefully, I have grown a little wiser with more experience. I like the idea of a fresh start. A new beginning as our Earth embarks on another journey around the sun.
I settle on the window ledge, wondering if the fireworks are visible from our apartment. The moon decides not to grace the Earth with its presence tonight. It gives me a chance to look at my lucky star at the leftmost corner of the heavens.
There it is.
Twinkling in the night sky, infinite and eternal. I know its glimmer so well. Sometimes it feels like the star knows me too, calling me by my name in my dreams. I feel slightly less alone in its company tonight.
The clock hits twelve, and the crowd on the TV cheers. Nothing changes in the air. I smile to myself and continue flipping through my book.
There are three more novels to go. I plan to finish the entire series tonight. One of my resolutions is to finish my stack of unread books before buying a new one.
An ache snakes down my calf from my position on the sofa, but I barely care. I turn to the last page with dissatisfaction.
Huh? That can’t be it.
Bridget Thompson rarely leaves her books on a cliff hanger. I pull my long blonde hair into a braid.
It’s almost 2am and Lily still hasn’t returned from the New Year’s party at her friend’s house.
Tomorrow holds another endless series of chores that need to be completed. I will have to pick up the milk from the grocer for Lily. She has a big presentation for her research. Busy as it is, I love my mundane daily routine and the life we have built in London.
My heart swells with pride, looking at a picture of Lily receiving the Blackthorne’s Excellence award.
Lily will be completing her bachelor’s degree soon. Which one, I’m not sure.
My little sister, the child prodigy.
I look at her goals stuck to the vision board. Her route in life is so well planned. She is studying under the legendary Chancellor Professor Griffith himself. The man is a scientist, philanthropist, and a national hero in Merle. I couldn’t be more proud of Lily.
Her study table, however, is a chaotic mess. I tidy the clutter of parchments and texts. Lily will flip tomorrow. She always says there is a method to her madness.
Found it.
Elizabeth Parker of Blackthorne University.
I grab my coat and sneak Lily’s student card into my pocket.
The apartment door closes with a forceful tug from me. We need to have the hinges fixed soon. Or maybe not. Lily and I won’t be staying in London for much longer. The thought brings a sudden despair to my heart. I check twice to make sure that I've locked the door.
Cold wind assaults me the moment I step into the open. I know it’s probably nuts trying to walk to Professor Griffith’s house in this dark hour, but there are questions that need answering.
Will Eloise and Eric get married? Will the Earl return from the war?
I must have the sequel to the ‘The Earl and I’.
It’s a miracle that Lily’s favorite professor is just as insanely addicted to books as she is. Griffith has generously allowed us access to his own personal library.
Blackthorne campus ground is still filled with students and scholars, even at night. I admire them as I walk by the pavilion. These are the people who have dedicated their life to the pursuit of knowledge. People like Lily.
Thanks to my sister, I am here too. Able to roam London freely. If it were up to Papa and his mistress, I would still be locked in that asylum in Merle. I hold the copy of Bridget Thompson’s novel in my hand. It will be all right.
A dark figure steps into my path. My heartbeat quickens. Moments like this make me abhor the gift I have. Please, not tonight. Don’t let me see them tonight.
“Hello beautiful,” the man says with a slight hiccup. I let out a breath of relief. It’s just a drunkard.
I ignore him and walk the other way.
“Hey, I’m talking to you. Stop,” he orders.
This guy can’t take a hint, can he? I wrap my coat around me stiffly and pick up my pace. The man steps into my path.
“Wait, a minute. I know you.” His eyes shine with recognition. “Lily Parker. It’s me, Derek.”
He knows Lily? I suppose this guy could be one of my sister’s classmates or something.
“You have the wrong person,” I say.
“Come on, Lily. You never reply to any of my texts,” he says.
I can see why.
“Like I said, I don’t know you,” I reaffirm and leave him.
“Don’t be like that. You’re such a heartbreaker, Lily,” he croons.
Gods, his breath stinks.
The man grabs me by the waist. I shudder at the contact with disgust. A cruel smile curves his lips. Perhaps that reaction is exactly what this piece of shit wants. I try to pull away, but his grip tightens.
“I am going to count down to three and you’re going to remove your hand,” I tell him calmly.
“Remove my hand or what?” he laughs. Derek’s hand slides down lower.
Another man is approaching us from behind me.
One threat at a time, I sigh.
The count is up.
I kick ‘Derek’ in the shin. He doesn’t have time to yelp in pain before I slam him to the ground.
The Ta
I whirl towards my next opponent.
“Woah, easy there.” He raises up his hand in surrender.
It isn’t his black leather armoured clothing that catches my eye first, or even that strange long, white hair, which is neatly braid around a dark crown. It’s the man’s amethyst eyes that hold me in a trance. Tonight, I finally understood what it is like to have my breath taken away.
It’s a sweet and painful way to die.
“I thought you needed my help,” the silver-haired man says. “I guess I was wrong.”
I’m still too rattled from being handled by Derek to talk to another guy. My eyes fall on the fallen man, lying unconsciously on the ground. I hope it is just because of the liquor running through his system instead of what I did.
The stranger kneels beside Derek to touch his hand.
“This man still has a pulse,” he says. “But he will wake up in the morning with one hell of a headache.”
I exhale a breath of relief. The lamppost shines dimly, barely illuminating the area. No one is passing through this shady, sodden part. Derek might get mugged or run over by a bicycle or something.
“I think we should put him out of harm’s way. Will you help me?” I ask him.
The stranger stares at me for a long moment, puzzled by my request. Well, if he isn’t going to help me, I guess I’ll have to drag Derek by myself. Before I can crouch to pull my assailant, the man gets to him first.
“Please, let me do it,” he says, lifting Derek off the ground easily. He roughly carries the drunkard with one hand and dumps him beneath a tree on the sidewalk like a sack of potatoes.
I’m not sure if this guy is doing it on purpose, but I can’t help feeling a slight satisfaction. Derek deserves it for laying his hand on me.
“I’m Amaris.” The man bows.
Back in my home country in Merle, we don’t tell our names to strangers out of superstitions for the wicked fae.
Of course, it’s ridiculous to believe in such things. This man has just help me move a body.
“Diana,” I say simply.
I look at the lavish embroidery on his cloak. That has to be the most exquisite fabric I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Are you on your way home from a New Year’s party?”
Amaris raises a handsome eyebrow.
“Your clothing… Is it some kind of cosplay?” I ask again. I wouldn’t know what fantasy books or sci fi series are trending. Lily is the one who fancies those things. I am more of a historical romance reader.
“Yes, I came from a party,” he says, running his hand through the silver strands. It looks like real hair to me. Perhaps he bleached it to look the part. I marvel at the lengths that these fanatics will go to bring their favorite character to life.
“So, what are you supposed to be? A king or some kind of knight?” I swallow nervously as my eyes falls on the long sword on his waist.
Calm down.
It has to be a fake.
“A prince actually,” Amaris answers briefly. His lips curl into a smile, as if laughing at an inside joke.
“You’re planning to go down this route by yourself?” He arches an eyebrow.
“Yeah…” I drawl.
“I’m headed down this path too. May I walk with you?”
It’s chivalrous of ‘Prince’ Amaris to offer, but I barely know him. I realize now I traded Derek for the company of another man who might not have the best intentions at heart.
With his strange sense of fashion, Amaris could be a bigger perv than the guy lying unconscious on the ground. If I had known so many weirdos would be prowling the streets, I wouldn’t have left the apartment.
As handsome as this guy may be, my sense of self-preservation kicks in. “That’s all right. I can handle myself,” I say firmly.
“Oh, I know. It’s me who needs the protection,” Amaris replies with a half-smile. My heart does a slight flip at the sight.
“If it makes you uncomfortable, then I’ll take the lead and go first.” He turns to leave.
Amaris doesn’t insist on accompanying me. I must admit, this makes me feel less threatened. I watch him walk ahead of me, the black velvet cloak whirling behind him. I contemplate the risk of strolling down the dark pathway with a stranger.
If worse comes to worst, I have the pepper spray.
But the man has a sword.
A fake sword, I remind myself.
Derek snores loudly in his sleep. Even the sound of that startles me. Maybe I’m just a bit jumpy tonight. I shouldn’t let fear get in the way of me reading that ending. I wait until Amaris is at least ten steps further before following him down the road.
Acres of woods surround Professor Griffith’s mansion. We stroll down the glittering gravel path in silence. True to his words, Amaris keeps himself away from me.
Something flickers in the trees. Perhaps Derek had chased me here for a second round.
Good. I can try the new Krav Maga technique Elijah taught me.
I realized the thing in the dark is crawling on all fours. My heartbeat quickens. It’s not a person. Fear galvanizes my feet to the ground as the creature reveals itself from the bushes just several yards away from me.
A bear.
Gods help me. It’s a freaking black bear.
How can there be a bear in the middle of the city? My mind fumbles for ideas for what to do in a bear encounter. I recall reading something about playing dead or climbing a tree.
The animal draws nearer, standing on its hind legs. By Gods, the bear is taller than me.
This is it.
I’m gonna die here mauled by a bear. All because I went out in the middle of the night to find an erotic romance book. It doesn’t sound like a bad way to go but poor Lily.
“Don’t move.”
I shiver from the warm breath on my ears. Amaris is right behind me.
He steps between me and the giant bear. Is he planning to fight the animal with his sword replica?
“Come back here. It’s dangerous,” I whisper to the man. Amaris halts and turns to me. His lips twitch with amusement again.
“Don’t worry, Diana,” he says, walking straight towards the bear.
Does he have a death wish?
The creature growls at Amaris, flashing rows of sharp teeth. This is no ordinary bear. It sprints towards the man faster than I can blink my eyes.
A strange feeling pervades the night. The air suddenly becomes heavy and dense. It almost makes breathing difficult.
The bear freezes. It lowers its head to the ground like a terrified dog. Amaris approaches it without fear. He kneels on the ground to touch the black bear’s muzzle.
This man is crazy.
But the animal remains unmoving. I can hear the soft whine coming from the beast. It almost sounds like an actual human cry.
“Go,” Amaris sighs, tapping the bear on its back.
The creature whimpers and runs away with its tail between its legs.
“It’s alright now,” Amaris says, striding towards me in his glorious armor.
“How can there be a bear in the middle of the street?” I tremble. Being this close to him, I have to arch my neck to meet his gaze.
“It’s just a dog,” the man reassures me.
What?
“I am not blind. It was definitely a bear,” I argue. I know what I saw.
“Believe me that thing is nothing more than a dog, running scared to its master,” he says.
Well Amaris is the one who got a close look at the creature. I have seen people walk the park with their Dobermans and Great Danes before. Perhaps that was just a lost pup earlier. It’s nearly 3am and I’m probably drowsy. I’m starting to wonder if that book is worth it.
