Fool's Gold: a Fantasy Romance (Daughter of Fortune Book 2) Read online

  Fool’s Gold

  A Daughter of Fortune, Book 2

  Domino Taylor

  Vivienne Savage

  Lady Raven Press

  Fool’s Gold

  By Domino Taylor writing as Vivienne Savage

  All material contained herein is Copyright © Vivienne Savage 2019. All rights reserved.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your preferred e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  Contents

  1. A Home that Dragons Built

  2. The Golden Rule

  3. A Thousand Emerald Stars

  4. Control

  5. Hidden Legacies

  6. More than a Job

  7. Truth and Lies

  8. A Friend in Need

  9. Magnificence Personified

  10. The Soul of Avarae

  11. Honorable Intentions

  12. More than a Metaphor

  13. Gadgets and Gremlins

  14. A Light Dimmed

  15. Dragonsbane

  16. All Things Come in Time

  17. Forgiveness is Divine

  18. Trust Earned

  19. Home Sweet Home

  20. The Last Rite

  21. Obligations Unmet

  22. Endeavors in the Dark

  23. Sacrifice

  24. Wraith of Vengeance

  25. Hunter Becomes Hunted

  26. Merciless

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  1

  A Home that Dragons Built

  Two days after meeting the Opal Destiny at sea, the Noble Sword reached Valanya, Ilyria’s royal city. They dropped anchor during the afternoon, when the port was alive with activity and shipments were arriving from allied kingdoms.

  There was energy in the air, an excitement thrumming below deck from the two dozen thieves preparing to start their lives anew. The air smelled fresh and clean; green, unlike the sandy dunes, and there was no whale oil odor. Elves didn’t hunt them, believing the practice barbaric and refusing to support the murder of such intelligent creatures. All nations, save Saudonia, had joined their accord promising to leave them at peace.

  From the bow, Rosalia watched horses gallop across a black sand beach, their lustrous manes glossy white streamers floating in the wind behind them.

  It took an hour for the bustle to quiet down, for the sailors to conclude their work, and for Captain Elurin to meet with the Port Authority and verify Queen Morwen had permitted the mooring of a Saudonian naval ship. Afterward, his healers carried the injured thieves away from the Noble Sword using sturdy bamboo litters with clean linen stretched between them.

  Xavier stepped up beside her. “They’ll be fine. Elvish healers are some of the best physicians across the eleven kingdoms.”

  “I know.” She crossed her arms and watched the procession of healers vanish into the busy city. “What happens now?”

  “Well, we find places to house everyone else. Elurin had a couple runners dash out into the city to acquire inn rooms. Remind them that there’s to be no stealing or working their craft until you’ve spoken with Nemuria and they’re officially members of the guild.”

  “Right.”

  “As for us, you’ll meet Queen Morwen in the morning to receive formal acceptance into the city. Afterward you’ll meet Grandmaster Nemuria to be inducted into the Thieves Guild. Both were adamant that you have the chance to stretch your legs away from the ship before I brought you to them. They’re practical women.”

  “Thank the gods.”

  Rosalia left Xavier on the main deck while she gathered together the rest of the able-bodied thieves and delivered a final warning, lacing her pleas for good behavior with threats of bodily harm, which Luca and Soraya echoed.

  “If anyone fucks this up for the rest of us, I’ll strangle you with your own guts,” the former enforcer said, while Soraya stood beside him with her arms crossed against her chest, features stern and unforgiving.

  And then the worst was over, the hard part done and behind them as sailors were assigned groups of thieves to deliver to safe houses and taverns, given sanctuary for the evening until their leader—at some point, Rosalia had become their honorary leader, despite her objections—was able to provide a proper dwelling for them.

  Damn. One more responsibility on her exhausted shoulders.

  Xavier removed his pocket watch and glanced inside. “We have plenty of time for a tour of Valanya before darkness settles. The city is most impressive under the light of day. More spectacular at night, I daresay, but I’ll save that until tomorrow night.”

  “From what I can see, it would be impressive under any light, at any time of the day. Are those wild horses?” she asked, gesturing toward the small herd grazing at the edge of the beach where black sand met green plant life.

  “Yes, and Queen Morwen forbids anyone to remove them.”

  Unlike Enimura, which had been carved out of a mountain, the elvish city had been constructed at the edge of a verdant coastal forest.

  Aside from paintings and illustrations, Rosalia had never known so much green could exist in one place. She wandered beside him in awe as their path from the docks and warehouses looped into the markets. The roads were paved with dark cobblestones and alive with mobile stalls. She passed a roadside shop peddling hand-painted silks and paused to admire a beauty with a hundred little butterflies.

  “How much is it?” Rosalia asked.

  “Six lyras,” the elvish merchant said. She removed the scarf from where it hung and draped it over Rosalia’s hair, tucking the ends around her throat with a few deft folds. A hint of perfume clung to the fabric. It smelled like...life. Life and sunlight.

  Rosalia glanced at Xavier. He smiled at her and said, “That’s one ducat, three argen in your coin.”

  “Oh.” It was also one ducat, three argen more than she had on her person. One ducat, three argen more than she had to her name now that her bank accounts had likely been seized by the crown.

  Rosalia removed the scarf and returned it to the shopkeeper. “Thank you. Perhaps another day.”

  When she turned away to leave, the elf darted after them, rushed words spoken in broken Saudonian. “I let go for two lyras. Two very good price, no?”

  Still two lyras more than Rosalia had. She sighed.

  Xavier spoke to her in Elvish, and after an exchange of words, the woman nodded to them both and returned to her stall.

  “What did you say to her?” Rosalia asked.

  “I said you were a visitor new to Ilyria and unfamiliar with our ways. I also promised you’d return once you were able to haggle worth a damn.”

  “Oh.”

  Their path traveled into the upper markets where the stalls thinned and became shops with storefronts constructed from silver and charcoal-hued bricks. At the edge of the shopping district, the road wrapped around a fountain dedicated to an elvish goddess, though she didn’t recognize which one. The white marble glittered beneath the sun, like it had been covered by a blanket of stars.

  Rosalia could have stood there forever admiring its beauty.

/>   “The bank is to our left. It’s the building with the gold bricks.” While they walked, Xavier gestured with a hand, indicating each place of interest as they took the left path and headed into the pleasure district. There, he showed her restaurants and places of history and beauty, their museum, their galleries, and their playhouses.

  “Where do the elves live?” she asked, unable to wait any longer.

  Xavier chuckled. “Eager to see where you’ll be plying your trade?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I suppose I shouldn’t keep your devious mind from staking out your claim.”

  There was no inch of Valanya lacking paved roads, no buildings with broken doors or shattered windows. Enimura had been an arid place of dry soil and dusty streets. Here, grass and plant life bordered roads and walkways while flowerpots hung from awnings and overflowed with exotic beauties. The residences were a mix of tenement buildings made from stone and small cottages large enough to house a single family.

  “What do you think of my homeland?” Xavier asked, guiding her to the city gates where a pair of stoic guards stood watch, each armed with a pair of swords. The wall surrounding the city had been erected from black stone, and another pair of elvish soldiers walked the narrow ridge atop it armed with bows.

  “Good day, Master Bane. Welcome back to Valanya,” said the guard on the left. The other nodded in respect.

  “Thank you. Pleasant day to you both as well.”

  “Where are we going?” Rosalia asked.

  “My home is beyond the city. We’ll have to fly to get there, and I prefer not to transform within the city gates if I can help it.” He flashed her a toothy grin. “The little ones become too excited whenever I make an appearance.”

  They walked for a while longer down a lane winding between trees abundant with colorful violet and blue leaves and tiny, bell-shaped flowers. Xavier stopped to disrobe while she smelled them. She took care to avoid even a glance in his direction because she thought if she dared to admire the sight of more than his bare chest, her legs would dissolve into jelly.

  “Ready for your flight?” His voice had deepened, huskier and rougher than when he was in his two-legged body.

  Rosalia turned to gaze up at him, the dragon all gold and bronze beneath the sunlight, sunbeams refracting a rainbow gleam over his tough dragon skin. His eyes remained as green as the lush carpet of grass beneath the trees.

  After she climbed astride him, legs on either side of the spot between his back and lower neck, Xavier took off with a running start. When he snapped both wings out and thrust back, the movement propelled him into the air.

  They climbed in altitude within seconds, and the city became a distant shape beneath them. Then it was fields of endless beauty speckled with shades of violet, red, and blue. Mountains the color of rust rose from the ground like the bones of the world reaching for the cloud-filled sky. Even those were covered in trees.

  “This is amazing!” Rosalia cried, clutching the loose, leathery skin at the base of his neck. He was warm, his flesh supple beneath her hands like the softest suede.

  “Hold on tight.”

  Instinct guided her flat against him. She squeezed with her legs, and within a breath of his warning, Xavier dipped in altitude for a dizzying descent. Elation hummed through her despite the wind whipping her hair and the incredible distance from the ground.

  Nothing had ever been greater. No petty theft, no grand burglary. Nothing could compare, and she would have gladly abandoned all other methods of travel to forever sit astride a dragon.

  The ride ended too soon. He landed in a green meadow bordered by trees at the base of a mountain, a sparkling lake adjacent. The water ran clear and reflected the blue sky above them, late afternoon sunlight shimmering over the tranquil surface.

  Xavier approached the mountain. He glanced back at her over his left shoulder, above a folded wing. “Now that you’ve toured the countryside...welcome to my home.”

  Xavier placed his claw against the uneven and scarred mountainside. The tip of each talon sank into natural indents in the stone, and then the rock shuddered. Bits of dust and debris stirred as it rolled, uncovering a hidden entrance.

  Rosalia gasped. “What kind of enchantment was that?”

  “Dwarven stonecraft and a bit of clockwork.”

  The door rumbled back into place behind them with a tap of his tail against an enormous lever inside. Activated by his movement, a dozen enchanted torches flickered to life and glowed brightly, casting shadows down the narrow corridor.

  This had been his mother and father’s hoard, his childhood home. It wasn’t as grand as the lair in Enimura built by his grandfather, but it was a comfortable place where he’d lived for many years after the loss of both parents.

  If not for Dahlia bringing him the mirror in a desperate moment of need, he might have been content to live here forever.

  Rosalia slid down from his back to the floor, eyes growing large as she took in the opalescent gleam of the polished stone walls and the luminous crystal growths protruding from the ceiling like natural chandeliers of light. “Every time I think nothing could ever be more beautiful than the last thing you’ve shown me, you prove me wrong and unveil some new mystery or delight. Beautiful doesn’t describe this place...”

  “I was raised here, and I still don’t think beautiful is an apt description. Now, are you ready to see how I found my way to Ilyria so quickly?”

  Her eyes lit, gaze pinned on him and burning with curiosity. She’d been surprisingly patient about him crossing to another continent in record time. “Yes.”

  “Then follow me. My mother was a grand enchantress of the translocative arts, so as a hobby she made relocation panes.”

  At her gasp, he couldn’t help but grin. Few mages were able to master the arts of teleportation, unable to move a simple object from their hand to a table a few feet away, let alone create a lasting charm capable of transporting them hundreds of miles away.

  “As a hobby?”

  Xavier guided her into the translocation chamber. He couldn’t fit inside while in his current body, but he could gesture with a claw, coaxing her into the middle of a circular room with ten oval mirrors set in gilded frames. They each displayed a different landscape, from mountains with fierce blizzard winds, to a misty forest where the ferns swayed beneath a subtle drizzle. “Yes. These are her life’s work.”

  “This is how you traveled so quickly to Ilyria.”

  He nodded and gestured with a claw to the pane that led to his private study. The mirror had been covered with a sheet, and somehow escaped her explorations. Of all the other things she’d investigated while living as his guest, he was surprised she’d let it go without notice.

  “How does it work?”

  “Give me a moment to change. It’ll be easier to explain if I’m in the room with you.”

  “You are. Technically.”

  He chuckled. “One claw and my nose. Anyway. Give me a second.”

  Xavier left the corridor and took his elven form halfway to the bedchamber, where he tugged on trousers and a tunic before rejoining her in his bare feet. By the time he returned, Rosalia had taken a seat on the floor in the center of the room.

  “The sound is mesmerizing,” she murmured.

  “It is.”

  Each mirror gave off the subtle hum of magic given audible form. And there was also noise slipping through them. The rhythmic patter of rain against soil and leaves joined the howling of the blizzard winds, creating a symphony of nature joined by the hoot of an owl in a dark forest.

  He sat beside her with his elbows against his thighs as they watched a grazing herd of kokabu from Nairubia. The antlered, four-legged creatures stood amidst knee-high grass and remained oblivious to their observers while pulling leaves from the trees with their orange tongues.

  “Are the animals on the other side unable to see us? What happens if an explorer or some adventurer passes by?”

  He smiled. “With exception
to the pane in my study, they don’t exist in this plane of reality and are held in a sort of magical stasis. Unless you know their location and are attuned to them as I am, you could never find them.”

  “Which is why you don’t have bunnies and squirrels dashing through the glass.”

  Xavier leaned forward and reached out with his left hand. “Exactly.”

  “What if they could see the panes?”

  “They couldn’t cross over even if they could perceive the mirrors. You must activate the pane with a stroke of magic,” he explained, skimming his finger over the edge of the rainy forest scene. The surface rippled like liquid silver and briefly distorted before popping into crystalline focus again when his fingers lifted away. “And once you do that, you’re able to cross through to the other side.”

  Her face fell. “I don’t know how to do magic. I’m not a mage.”

  “All djinn and their direct offspring have magic.”

  Rosalia shook her head. “Not like yours. I would know if I did. I’ve lived my entire life without casting a single spell.”

  “Such happens when the gifted lack a teacher. We’ll remedy that.”

  Her gazed darted from the mirror to his face. She stared, wonder in her expression and such naked, open longing that he fought the urge to gather her in his arms again. “You’ll teach me?”

  “Yes,” he vowed, the intensity of his own voice startling him. He’d do whatever he could to teach her the arcane arts.

  “I’d... I’d like that.”