“Dana…” My father’s hand reached for me as I rounded the corner of his four-poster bed. His blonde hair was grey with dust.

  “Father, are you alright?” I asked, but as I assessed the situation, I cringed.

  One of the uprights of the bed had collapsed and had my father trapped beneath it. He must have been trying to get out of bed when it fell.

  “I am not hurt, faeling,” he said, “but I cannot lift this infernal log.”

  Dust and sweat smeared his face, and I could tell he had been trying. Silently, I cursed the guards for abandoning their posts.

  “Here,” I knelt beside him in the dust, “let me help.”

  “It won’t budge, Dana. I’ve tried.”

  “It must, Father. We need to get out of here. This attack is the worst it’s ever been.”

  I saw the sadness in his eyes, and my heart bled for him. He was a good king; if they could only see it.

  “Together, then,” he said, bracing his arms against the oaken beam.

  “Together.”

  The trembling around us intensified as we pushed against the pillar. As a piece of ceiling crashed to the floor, dust enveloped us, making us cough in fits, stalling our efforts.

  “It’s no use.”

  I heard defeat in my father’s voice, squeezing my heart. My throat ached as it constricted with all the words I wanted to say to him but that wouldn’t come out now.

  “Again.”

  I didn’t wait for him. Standing, I put all my weight against the beam and started pushing. It was the wrong angle and my father groaned as the wood ground across his leg.

  “Dana, stop. Get out of here before it all comes down. Go.”

  “No, I am not leaving you.” The tears rolled freely now. “I will get you out of here.”

  “The guards are gone, faeling.” His voice was soft now. “It’s too heavy for us to shift. Come back for me when the attack has stopped.”

  I could still feel it ~ the dark magic weaving its evil fingers through our home, rattling its walls. It left a bitter taste at the back of my throat. I pulled a face, and I suddenly knew what to do. I didn’t care what it would cost.

  “No. I am getting you out of here.”

  Determined, I stepped away from my father, and I held out my palm. The blue light was shaky as I wielded it before my father for the first time. His eyes were like saucers as he watched the magic unfold in my hand.

  I ignored his shocked look and concentrated on the bed’s pillar. My hand was warming up now, and the glow became brighter. The magic uncoiled.

  I had almost no control over this foreign magic. It frightened me. I knew not where it came from, or what it was.

  My father’s face was pale in its glow, but I tried not to be distracted by the sight of it. Taking shallow breaths so I didn’t cough in the dusty air, I concentrated harder on this magic than I had ever before.

  This was it. This had to work. My arm shook, but as the light from my palm intensified, the beam rose into the air.

  My father wriggled from beneath it; his bedclothes dirty and torn. The moment he was free, I dropped the wood, unable to keep it aloft any longer. I crumpled in a heap to the floor next to my father, arms around his neck.

  “How did you do that?” he asked, but I shook my head. There was no time for questions now.

  Amid the shaking and rumbling, we staggered to our feet, holding on to each other for support. Out in the wide passage, we kept to the middle, away from the flaking walls.

  “It’s easing.”

  To prove I was right, I veered to the side and put my hand on the wall. Even as I did so, the shaking subsided. An eerie silence settled around us as we stood there, alone in an abandoned palace.

  A smile spread across my face, then froze when I saw the defeat in my father’s eyes. He leaned against the opposite wall, fingers pressed to his temple.

  “Father,” I rushed to his side, “let us seek out your advisers and the councillors. There must be a way to defeat this evil.”

  “It is too late, Dana,” he sighed. “Did anyone see you using that magic?”

  “How can it be too late, Father? Why are the councillors even accusing you of bringing this evil upon us? They don’t stand above you.”

  “They have their reasons. I can’t stop the attacks, so I must pay for them. You know it is the fae way.”

  By the way he avoided my eyes, I thought there was something else he was not telling me.

  “But, Father…”

  “Dana,” he grabbed me by my shoulders, his eyes stern now, “did anyone see you using that magic?”

  “No,” my eyebrows furrowed deeply as I thought about it, “maybe. I ran into one of the servants, and he may have seen my palm glow.”

  “Then, you need to leave, my child.”

  “Father, why? What is going on?”

  Distant footsteps echoed down the passage to our right, and my father pulled me around the corner of a marble pillar.

  “Dana, if the councillors find out you wield a foreign magic, I will not be able to protect you.”

  “But …”

  “Hide, Dana.”

  With a rough push, I got flung over a railing into a flower garden, just as several guards rounded the corner. I spat out a mouthful of dirt.

  Tears spilt from my eyes, but I remained still, hiding, as the footsteps neared and the guards surrounded my father, reading him a missive from the councillors.

  They did not give him an option to speak for himself but asked him to follow them to be judged.

  Once all was silent again, I climbed out of my hiding place and brushed off the dirt from my nightdress. My hands shook, but I stilled their trembling ~ I needed to be strong now.

  With life coming back into the palace, and servants once more scuttling along the corridors, moving about unseen would prove difficult. I had to act quickly.

  Biting back the pain of running over the broken bits of ceiling with my bare feet, I hurried back to my room.

  I only took a moment to wipe the dust and blood away before getting dressed in the most practical of clothes I could find.

  “Ladybug, you are hurt.”

  My sweet-faced handmaiden rushed into my room. I let her dab at my still bleeding arm, and then I hugged her tight.

  “I have to go, Rosalie.”

  Pulling the hood of my green coat far over my head to cover all of my voluminous red hair, I headed back out into the corridors.

  Today had been the worst of the seven attacks over the past couple of weeks. So much had been destroyed. It would take weeks to rebuild.

  Hiding my face within my hood, I followed the scuttling footfalls of the other palace dwellers to the centre court.

  A crowd had gathered here, and I could see my father sitting on a plain chair on the main stage where the summer plays were performed.

  Four councillors stood around him, and my father’s entourage of advisers formed a tight group behind him. I could barely see his face between the swishing red coats of the councillors.

  Guards lined the outside walls of the plaza as it filled with spectators. Captain Jared walked about, keeping order amongst muttering people as they assembled.

  A sour taste settled in my mouth as I found my place among the crowd, trying to blend in.

  “The king stands accused of treason,” proclaimed Councillor William, head of the councillors, efficiently silencing the gathered crowd. “Until such time as he can be cleared of treason, he shall be arrested and removed from office.”

  I expected the crowd to gasp, or moan, but when they nodded and clapped, I swallowed the lump in my throat. Grinding my teeth, I listened.

  “In his absence, his advisers will rule with the council. Unless the king’s innocence can be proven within three months, a new regent will be chosen.”

  A guard stomped onto the stage and asked my father to stand. He obeyed. The small crowd clapped again as the guard led my father away to the cells.

  The councillor spoke again, but I did not stick around to listen. I wanted to get out of the plaza before I was discovered. Stepping around a flowery archway, I slipped behind a trellis of roses.

  It was as good a hiding place as any. Draeguard Palace was full of flowers, even in winter, and the ornate arrangements had always been my favourite hiding places.

  I waited for everything to quieten before daring to go back into the corridors of the palace.

  Although I had been born here and knew the palace intimately, I did not know much about the dungeons. I cursed the lack of knowledge now as I tried to find a safe way there.

  Finally finding a second entrance that did not contain guards sprawled all over the stairs, I climbed down two flights of stone steps into darkness. Opening my palm a fraction, I allowed some of the blue light to escape so I could see.

  An oaken door at the bottom of the steps barred my way to what I hoped were the dungeons, but when I tried the door, it was locked. Frustrated, I pushed against it.

  Tears rolled down my face again.

  Standing there in the soft blue glow of my palm, an idea formed in my mind. Turning towards the door, I aimed my palm at the lock.

  My hand trembled. What if there were guards on the other side? What if I used too much, or too little, magic?

  I closed my eyes and willed the blue magic towards the lock. The wood around it splintered, and the door creaked ajar.

  With wide eyes and a still trembling hand, I reached out and opened the door wider. The room beyond was empty, stone walls and recessed alcoves with metal bars. Even here, there was some damage from the attack.

  “Dana.”

  My father’s whispered voice sounded harsh in my ears, and I suddenly saw his pale fingers reach through the bars of a cell to my left. I hurried to him.

  “My girl, my brave girl.”

  “I am here, Father.”

  “You must leave, Dana. It is not safe for you anymore.”

  He forestalled my protest by putting a finger to my lips.

  “I will be fine.” He gestured behind him, and I glanced into the gloom. “There is a bed and food and water. They will look after me, for now.”

  I swallowed hard, trying to suppress the tears threatening to spill from my eyes. “It’s this Councillor William’s fault.” I pouted.

  “No,” my father shook his head, “William is a good man. Dana, listen to me now. The people may be right, and I may be the cause of all this. When did this strange magic of yours start?”

  “In March. Around the spring equinox.”

  “That’s what I thought. The attacks started shortly after.”

  Balling my hands into fists, I nodded.

  “Don’t be afraid. It is not you causing the attacks. Seek out a woman by the name of Arianna. This is important. She might be able to explain your magic.

  “Who is …”

  A key turning in a lock behind us made us both look up in fright. The key rattled, as if it was stuck.

  “Go, Dana, you cannot be discovered here. You cannot help me if you’re in here with me. May the Goddess be with you.”

  I squeezed his hand as the key rattled again. A furtive glance to the oaken door I had come in told me I would not make it in time without being seen.

  The room before me was bare besides an overturned table and a bucket next to it. Chains hung from the stone walls opposite.

  As the key finally clicked in the cursed lock and the heavy door scraped across the stone floor, I bolted across the room to the right. My heart thundered frantically as I tucked in the flapping ends of my robe, pressing myself flat against a broken stone pillar.

  The jovial talk of the guards stopped as they entered, and they exchanged a few whispered words. I could hear footsteps coming my way.

  “Guard, I need some water,” my father called from his cell.

  “One moment,” the guard answered.

  “I am still the king. You are to treat me with some dignity.”

  “One moment, I said,” the guard repeated.

  The footsteps were closer, now. I inched further around the stone pillar, eyeing the oaken door on the other side of the room. Could I make it?

  If I ran, they would see me. Could I outrun them and then lose them in the palace?

  “Just one cup of water isn’t too much to ask for a king, is it?”

  “Give him some water,” one of the guards said, very close now.

  I could hear one set of footsteps retreat, and then the clink of crockery that the guards must have brought with them.

  The scrape of a leather boot on stone told me the other guard was only another yard, or so, from the stone pillar I hid behind. My heart pounded as I smelled a breath of fresh air around the crumbled rock.

  I explored it with my fingers. A crack. The attack must have damaged this wall.

  Just then, the guard launched himself and sprang around the corner.

  Want to read more of The Fae Prophecy?

  Get it here: My Book

  Resilient

  By

  Toni Cox

  Copyright © 2019 Toni Cox

  Cover design by Adriatica Creations

  Editing by Redwing Productions

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the written permission of the author constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are all used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual events, locales or persons living or dead, are coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Acknowledgments

  A special thanks goes to Sian B. Claven, for allowing me to use her name and book titles in this book. My character reads them, and loves them, as much as I do.

  As always, a big thanks to my editor, Elaina J. Davidson, not just for her great work in editing this book, but also for her enthusiasm for this particular work. This is so different from my fantasy series, I worried she wouldn’t like it. Well, Elaina didn’t like it - she loved it!

  Poppet, thank you for being so very patient. I ordered this cover at the beginning of 2018, and then asked for changes, and a new blurb a month ago. Big loves.

  Thank you, to my husband, Darren Cox, for without his constant supply of cappuccino this book would not have been ready in time. As it is with all my books. (You guys should really try his cappuccino - it is THAT good!)

  And then, thanks to all the Indie authors who have supported me throughout this year. You guys are amazing!

  This book is for my grandmother, Erika, whom I admire her for her courage and resilience

  Preface

  Glossary of terms

  Liefie - My love

  Sawubona - Good morning

  Ninjani - How are you?

  Ngisaphila – I am well

  Ngiyabonga - Thank you

  Veld – Field

  Spook – Ghost

  Spoke – Ghosts

  Gauteng - Province of South Africa

  Plaas meisie - Farm girl

  Sacrifice

  Darkness creeps over the land

  Covering it with sadness

  When I look up

  All I ever loved is gone

  Loneliness envelopes me

  Becomes me

  I grow wings

  Fighting the winds of change

  The tempest rages around me

  Altering everything I know

  In the silence that follows the storm

  My thoughts are the only things I hear

  My strength is what is needed

  It is what they must take

  Sometimes

  Only the ultimate sacrifice is enough

  3

  Chapter 1

  I turn on the TV and switch the channel to BBC News. Since yesterday, two Gorillas in a Chinese zoo have been making headlines.

  … their condition has worsened overnight, and the local veterinarians are doing everything in their power to save the gorillas. Initial blood samples have revealed little, except that the gorillas might be suffering from a common cold.

  I sigh and lift the remote to switch the TV off again when the pretty, blonde presenter’s next words catch my attention.

  With these gorillas making headlines, other zoos in China have come forward, reporting several deaths among the ape population, with not merely gorillas, but also chimpanzees and orangutans affected. Scientists are left speculating as to what could be causing these deaths.

  Leaving the TV on, I head to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee.

  Work had been a nightmare. One of the senior project managers threw a tantrum about a schematic not submitted on time. Luckily, it wasn’t one of the projects I was working on. I enjoy working at Murray & Roberts, but sometimes the people there can be real assholes. Five o’clock could have come earlier today.

  Carrying my coffee, I make my way back to the lounge. The news has moved on to a subway bombing in France. I snort, cynical about the fact they reported about the gorillas before the deaths on the train. Bored with the news, I scroll through Facebook on my phone as I sip my brew. My feed is full of stories about the apes. I frown, wondering why everyone is going ape-shit about this.

  Apparently, in some small village in China, an orangutan broke free of its enclosure and ran amok within the village, killing three people, before it was captured. It died a day later of the same mysterious illness the news reported on earlier.

  I jump when the phone suddenly rings in my hands. It’s my mother, and I swipe to answer it.

 

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