The Queen by Suzanna Lynn Page A

dwindling.
“Mother, what is wrong?”
    “We are only allowed a little time away from
afterlife,” she whispered. “It would appear my time is up for
now.”
    “No!” Luana cried. “There is still so much I
need to know. So many things I want to ask you.”
    “Rydel, you must teach her,” Lyra said
weakly. “Teach her how to control her magic. How to use it to
protect herself, to protect her people.”
    Slowly, Lyra sank into the pool and was
gone. Baylin and Rydel held tight to Luana as she cried out,
reaching for her mother. All that remained was the glowing pool
with its surface smooth as ice.
    Baylin pulled Luana into his arms. “It will
be all right.”
    “Luana,” Rydel said. “Faylen and I will
teach you to use your gifts. Lyra wanted you to be able to protect
yourself and defeat your enemy. When Mirstone arrives, they will
wish they had stayed in their castle.”

Chapter Ten

    The previous night’s events took their toll
on Baylin. He hardly slept after he watched King Rydel take Luana
under his wing and start training her. He could hardly believe his
eyes when he watched a tiny ball of light materialize in the palm
of her hand.
    However, there was no time to think on those
things. At present, he sat in the war room discussing the battle
strategies Grasmere could put into play based on the new
information of Kardell being involved in the invasion.
    “General Baltair, what do you have to
report?” asked Baylin.
    “Last night we sent birds to both Ranhold
and Strathen, calling for aid,” said the general. “We should know
soon enough if they are with us.”
    “That’s not good enough,” boomed Baylin.
“Send envoys at once! There is not a moment to waste. They are
either with us or against us; they won’t get the chance to weigh
their options.”
    “Quite right.” General Baltair stood and
bowed. “Your Grace.” He then walked from the room to fulfill
Baylin’s command.
    “What news have we of the troll hordes?”
Baylin asked, pulling out a map. “After the battle in Mirstone,
many were slaughtered. However, I fear we have missed something. A
passage, a path of escape many of them may have taken.”
    “There have been very little sign of trolls
in Grasmere, Your Grace,” said General Cormag. “A few random cases
of small clusters, but nothing to cause concern. I’m certain your
triumph at Mirstone caused their numbers to dwindle. They are no
longer a real danger to us.”
    “We would be naïve to think them not a
threat anymore,” Ferric said. “They are not intelligent creatures,
but they are skilled at hiding. The mountain ranges and forests
have given them plenty of chance to evade us over the years.”
    “Ferric is right,” said another general.
“The battle at Mirstone showed us just how thick their numbers had
become. Was it not just a few months before their invasion when we
thought their numbers were so limited?”
    “With war upon us, we cannot afford the men
to scout out the troll hordes,” said General Cormag. “There is no
proof of the trolls being a threat. What few survived are busy
licking their wounds and scrounging around in rock and dirt for
food. Our forces must concentrate on Mirstone and Kardell.”
    “Perhaps,” Baylin said. “However, if
Mirstone attacks from the west and Kardell from the south, we would
be ripe for the picking should the trolls decide to hit us from the
mountains of the north and forests of the east. We would be
surrounded.
    “What options do we have, Your Grace?” asked
General Cormag.
    “Our duty is to the people. We must make
sure they are safe so we can concentrate our efforts on keeping any
threats that present themselves back,” Baylin said.
    “What are your thoughts?” whispered Ferric,
looking at the map in front of the Prince.
    “The safest place for the people of Grasmere
is inside the castle,” Baylin said.
    “Inside the castle?” called out several of
the other generals.
    “Yes,” Baylin barked. “These