Rozati GoDh's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

Rozati reached for the spinning gate. Before his hand touched the ring, the winged cat sprang off the rug and hissed at the door. Its fur stood straight. It paced the floor, ears flat, eyes fixed on the castle entrance. Weyala went still. "Something followed you through the snow," she said. "It's here." The outer doors shook. Frost crept across the stone floor from the gap beneath them. Rozati backed toward the gate. The cold bit through his boots. The doors burst inward, and the blizzard poured through. A red beast crouched in the doorway. It was small, furred, with wide green eyes and a slit for a nose. When it grinned, Rozati saw long pointed teeth. It stepped inside without fear. "The heir," it said, voice high and sharp. "They sent me to test your blood. A false king dies here. A true one earns his throne." It drew a thin blade from its belt and lunged. Rozati dove behind the gold-trimmed chair. The blade split the wood where his head had been. He had no weapon. Weyala shouted his name and threw the soup pot. The beast ducked it easily and turned back to him, grinning wider. "You claim a throne," it said. "Then bleed for it." It sprang onto the chair. Rozati pressed his palm flat against the spinning gate. He did not know if it would answer. He only knew the beast meant the ring was the one thing it feared. Blue and violet light flared under his hand. Cold rushed from the ring, far colder than the storm. The floor cracked. Ice spread in white veins across the hall. Something rose through the ice. A great serpent uncoiled from the splitting floor, scales like frost, horns of gold, eyes of cut diamond. A green mist dripped from its claws and ate the stone where it fell. The ice basilisk turned its head toward the red beast and loomed over it. The beast froze. Its grin fell away. "Bloodline confirmed," it whispered. It lowered the blade and dropped to one knee. "The test ends. You passed." Then it fixed its green eyes on Rozati. "But I was not the only one they sent. The others will not kneel." The basilisk sank back into the floor. The ice drew inward and closed. The hall was quiet again, the broken doors swinging in the wind. Rozati lowered his shaking hand. The gate still spun behind him, patient. "Who sent you?" he asked. The red beast rose. "Those who hold Mosscrown Keep," it said. "They knew you would come. They do not want the throne opened." It slipped toward the ruined doors. "Close the gate behind you, heir. By morning, they will know I failed." Rozati spoke with a growl, “I need you to stay and walk with me to provide back up as I walk into the tests that lie ahead.” Weyala spoke, “Will you walk with your new king?”