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    The Starlight Blade: An Allerleirauh Novella: The Twin Kingdoms, #4
    The Starlight Blade: An Allerleirauh Novella: The Twin Kingdoms, #4
    The Starlight Blade: An Allerleirauh Novella: The Twin Kingdoms, #4
    Ebook163 pages2 hoursThe Twin Kingdoms

    The Starlight Blade: An Allerleirauh Novella: The Twin Kingdoms, #4

    By Nancy O'Toole

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    The Warrior Princess

    Viola Verdis would do anything to protect her family. But what can she can do against The Mage King—an ancient enemy who hides in the shadows and uses others as pawns? With the royal family scattered for their own protection, it falls to Viola to protect her father, King Valient. But The Mage King's latest weapon has plenty of tricks up her sleeve.

    An Assassin in Disguise

    Rue regrets joining The Mage King in his quest to sacrifice the royal family. And now, his magic burns in her chest, tying her to his will. By day, she disguises herself as a kitchen maid, masked by her cloak of many furs. By night, she plans King Valient's demise, armed with the weapons of her late mother, Kelvia's most notorious assassin. Only one person stands in her way, the king's ever-present and infuriatingly beautiful daughter, Viola. Viola draws Rue in like no one has ever done before. But following her heart is impossible when she knows what she must do.

    Spill royal blood, or die.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherNancy O'Toole
    Release dateFeb 2, 2022
    ISBN9798215287033
    The Starlight Blade: An Allerleirauh Novella: The Twin Kingdoms, #4
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      Book preview

      The Starlight Blade - Nancy O'Toole

      The Starlight Blade

      An Allerleirauh Novella

      Nancy O'Toole

      image-placeholder

      Midnight Tide Publishing

      Copyright © [Year of First Publication] by [Author or Pen Name]

      All rights reserved.

      No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

      Contents

      1. The Dead

      2. The Trees

      3. The Kitchen Maid

      4. The Daughter

      5. The Bag

      6. The Sunlight Daggers

      7. The Feast

      8. The Doorway

      9. The Apology

      10. The Archer

      11. The Moonlight Shield

      12. The Hand

      13. The Map

      14. The Kitchen

      15. The Unexpected Letter

      16. The Ladder

      17. The Tears

      18. The Mercy

      19. The Ball

      20. The Dance

      21. The Confession

      22. The Retreat

      23. The Starlight Blade

      24. The Promise

      25. The Gateway

      Acknowledgments

      Also by Nancy O’Toole

      More by Midnight Tide Publishing

      1

      The Dead

      Viola

      I had no reason to fear the dead. At least, not the long-dead.

      A chill came over me as I stepped inside the catacombs, a narrow room dug into the side of the mountain. Sarcophagi lined the center of the space. The names and dates had been worn down by time, the bodies set to rest hundreds of years before, their accompanying souls already reborn.

      That was the way of it. Life and death progressed in an ever-moving cycle. Once you died, your body was returned to your place of birth, allowing your soul to be reborn. If there was a long delay between one’s passing and the burial, the spirits of the dead could appear in the waking world. But there was no reason for the long-dead to rejoin the living.

      At least, until The Mage King changed everything, the bastard.

      Viola? Is this what you wanted me to look at?

      The speaker—whose voice carried a crisp, clear Hijanni accent—was a good friend of mine. She stood at the farthest sarcophagus. Its stone slab lay cracked on the floor.

      Mari’s appearance didn’t match her surroundings, her fine outfit and jewelry a bizarre choice for any kind of outdoor excursion. But having known Mari for a decade now, I knew this was toned down for her. She wore trousers, not a gown, and her jewelry, while still gold, was relegated to a pair of stud earrings and a couple of bangles. A casual look for Mari, but a far cry from the more rugged garb I had selected, which had more in common with the soldiers that waited for us outside.

      If a stranger were to meet us on the road and hear that one of us was a princess, they’d likely make the wrong choice. Of course, Mari’s rank was plenty impressive too.

      I gathered myself and crossed the room of the dead.

      Mari leaned over the sarcophagus and pointed to a long vertical line of symbols carved on the inside.

      This? Her golden, hawklike eyes met my green ones.

      Was it that obvious?

      I’ve seen symbols just like this scattered all over the ruins near my father’s house. Ruins that predate all Hijanni record keeping, written in an alphabet seemingly completely disconnected from the current or previous version of the Hijanni language. She raised her dark eyebrows. It sticks out.

      I couldn’t help it. I chuckled. Mari had always been pretty sharp.

      I’m going to take a logical leap and assume that because we’re hundreds of miles away from any Hijanni ruins and in a tomb that predates any relationship between Hijan and Verida, you suspect that this has something to do with the fair folk?

      I nodded. The fair folk were a new concept, and not just to Mari, but humanity as a whole. Thousands of years before, the fair folk had covered the world, at least until the magically dependent race had overdrawn from the supply of power that naturally had existed in nature, ignoring all the warning signs until it was too damn late. As a result, each member of the fair folk had fallen into an endless, deathlike sleep known as The Nightmare.

      All except one.

      I’ll need to compare them against my notes to be sure, Mari said, rummaging around in her satchel. Of course, I can’t exactly read this language, which begs the question.

      Oh?

      Why did you ask me?

      I blinked. Uh…well, I thought about your story about the ruins, and—

      Let me clarify. You suspected that this was rooted in the fair folk. And yet you asked me when you just happen to know a living, breathing member of the folk who could confirm all this.

      I scowled. "Well, if I had known that it was going to bother you—"

      Oh, don’t you get prickly with me! It’s clear that you’re not exactly Aria’s biggest fan.

      I…why, that’s ridiculous!

      Uh-huh.

      Mari reached into her satchel and pulled out a piece of paper and charcoal. She leaned forward into the sarcophagus.

      Listen, she said. I don’t blame you for asking for a second opinion. You have a man who wants to murder you and your entire family and some woman shows up completely out of the blue with a mysterious connection to his past? I’d be cautious. But it doesn’t change the fact that you don’t exactly seem to like her all that much, beyond that.

      What makes you say that?

      You mean besides the fact that you always reach for one of those knives when I mention her name?

      I froze and looked down to find my right hand resting on one of the long twin daggers I wore at my hip.

      I see what you’re talking about. I said with a wince, forcing my hand to rest at my side.

      Well, if you ever decide you want to talk about it, you just let me know. Mari pulled back, a rubbing of the strange symbols in her hands. Anyway, I don’t want you to think that I’m not thankful. This could potentially be game-changing for Hijan. Most people assume that the ruins are cursed, the symbols left behind by The Silence. If I could prove that it’s connected to a genuine ancient civilization, this could open us up to a whole new world of research.

      Research that you could be a part of.

      Precisely.

      Now I see why you’d agree to traverse the countryside with a woman with a target on her back.

      She looked up and grinned at me. Oh, that just gives me an excuse to travel with so many handsome young men.

      Yeah, can’t relate there.

      More for me!

      For a moment, I paused to look around the catacombs.

      You know, I said. It’s a bit strange.

      Hmmm?

      From what Aria said, the folk turn to silver leaves after they die. I saw it happen to Lyric in Kelvia. And it’s not like they bury those.

      Mari pulled back, a troubled expression on her face. So why would folk writing turn up in an empty grave?

      I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, a shout came from outside. The two of us exchanged a glance, then rushed to the door.

      Only to find our guards under attack by the forest around them.

      2

      The Trees

      Viola

      Golems!

      The word escaped from my lips in a rush of breath. It wouldn’t be the first time that Elegy or his followers had used them. In fact, molding creatures from plants and giving them life through magic was starting to become a regular thing.

      But they had never been this big.

      They stood at least twenty feet high, their bodies made from twisted tree trunks instead of twigs and branches. And there was less of an effort to make them look human. No approximation of facial features or clothing. The lack of the latter made it easier to make out the glowing orb of power stuck in their chests. I watched in horror as a guard took cover behind a gathering of greenery, only to have a tree turn around and grab at him. He darted out of the way in time, but only just.

      I turned to Mari.

      Go back inside, I said. And close the door behind you.

      All alone? Her eyes went wide, previous confidence vanished. Viola, you know I can’t fight!

      Which is why I’ll send one of my handsome men to protect you, I promise.

      She hesitated, but only for a moment, then took a step back into the doorway, muscles straining as she dragged the heavy door shut behind her. I swallowed. Elegy’s golems were damn strong. If a door like that could be closed by someone (even with effort) at Mari’s level, it would be no match for them. But at least it would separate us.

      And the safest thing for Mari was to be as far away from me as possible.

      After all, I was their target.

      Princess! a voice cried out.

      I reached to my sides and drew out two long metal daggers. They fit comfortably in my hands, their familiar weight giving me confidence.

      Enough to charge into the fray.

      I dodged around one of the golems, knowing that my curly red hair signaled my identity like a bullseye. As I made my way through, I watched a guard tumble to the ground, his musket skittering from his hands. Behind him, a golem raised a massive foot, almost as long as the man was tall. It prepared to stomp. I reared back with a dagger in my right hand.

      Only someone else got to him first.

      Bang!

      The magic in the creature’s chest exploded in a burst of light the second the musket ball made impact. The golem, just like its smaller counterparts, instantly fell apart in a pile of branches.

      Of course, now those branches were the size of tree trunks.

      Azir! I hollered as I raced across the green, sheathing one of my daggers so I could reach down and help up the fallen guard. He was a young man, only a couple years older than my own twenty-five years and had the brown skin and golden eyes that indicated Hijanni heritage, but when he opened his mouth, his voice, like mine, was a pure Verdian drawl.

      Your Highness, he said, coming to his feet. The diplomat, she—

      My response was cut off by the blast of musket fire. We both winced automatically, my heart leaping to my chest. For a second, I was transported back to Castle Verdia, my former home. Smoke filled my lungs. My ears rang with the screams of men and the blast of musket fire. I looked for a weapon, desperate to do something, anything, to save my home.

      Which now, years later, still stood like a corpse of its former self.

      Princess! Azir!

      The familiar voice was enough to snap me to attention. The speaker, a solidly built gray-haired man dressed in a green uniform, stood perched atop a massive stone. He gripped a musket in his hands.

      By The Father, Azir muttered. In his sixties and still the best damn shot in the whole army.

      Honor guard, I was tempted to correct, but now wasn’t the time. Azir and I jogged across the expanse and ducked behind the gathering of rocks.

      That wasn’t smart, soldier, Jeffrey said, reaching down for another freshly loaded gun. He passed the spent one to a shorter man who began loading it, his fingers moving swiftly.

      The Princess— Azir began.

      Can take care of herself, which you well know.

      What about the diplomat? Azir looked to me, concern plain on his face. I remembered how I promised Mari I would send someone to protect her.

      In the catacombs, I said. Maybe—

      They’re leaving the place be, Jeffrey said.

      Then we should plan a retreat!

      Damn difficult when there’s a whole other wave of them between Everroot and us. Azir swore.

      I blinked and

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