Her chamber door closed with a soft click.

    Footsteps padded on the carpeted floor but she ignored them. She sat with her knees held to her chest in the dark confines of her canopied bed.

    She’d lost track of how many days it had been since Gariel had visited her chamber. Since then she’d nearly depleted her cache of numroot.

    She’d have to order someone to get her more. The peaceful numbness that kept her fears at bay was wearing thin. She licked her lips and tasted the bitterness on her breath.

    The blinds opened with a screech. She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. Daria wouldn’t dare. It had to be that woman.

    “It’s been long enough,” Galoria said. “How much longer do you plan to hide?”

    “I’m not hiding,” she said.

    “Well then, you’ve had us fooled, your Majesty. Everyone will be overjoyed to hear it.”

    She forced herself to crawl to the edge of the bed and pulled back the velvet drape an inch. She squinted against the sudden glare. The bright light made her head pound and she instantly regretted it, but she couldn’t ignore her now.

    Galoria sat on the cushioned widow seat. Her thick platinum hair was bound in a braid and rested over her left shoulder. She was toying with the end of it.

    A long white cloak draped over her right shoulder hid her missing arm. The hilt of a sword poked out through the folds of the cloak.

    On the right side of her face a long scar traced over her cheek and brow, trailing into her scalp. The scar stood out as a pale reminder on her dark skin that this was not a soft woman.

    Galoria studied her with mismatching eyes. The one she could see through, a bright violet, the other gray and blinded by whatever had given her that scar.

    She looked away from Galoria’s gaze.

    A touch of shame bubbled underneath the weakening effect of the numroot. What did she have to feel ashamed about? If she wanted to hole herself up in her room for a week then that’s what she would do. She was queen. Who could tell her otherwise?

    “You have us worried, Majesty,” Galoria said.

    Hearing that from her only deepened her shame. She pushed herself off the edge of the bed and took a seat on Galoria’s left. Galoria stopped toying with her braid to take one of her hands. She felt the rough calluses on Galoria’s palm as she gave her hand a squeeze.

    “It’s getting worse,” she said. “I don’t know what to do. Or what to even think of it.”

    “The visions?”

    She nodded.

    “They’re not real,” Galoria said. “You’re traumatized. That’s all.”

    “No,” she said. “My brothers were in the crowd. They caused the panic.”

    “Perhaps you saw someone who resembled them?”

    “It was them, Galoria. That Dragon didn’t even move to stop my older brother from cutting through its leg. It didn’t see him, despite there not being a cloud in the sky and the sun hovering right above us.”

    Galoria’s worried expression turned wary. “The driver did say there was nothing in the horse’s path…”

    “It was my younger brother,” she said. “Bradyn walked out of the crowd. The horses ran him over. That’s when the driver lost control and the harness broke. But that didn’t stop him. He climbed into the carriage after that.”

    Galoria glanced around the room. “If you keep saying things like that I’m going to start looking over my shoulder from now on.”

    “Not that it would do you any good.”

    Galoria chuckled. They sat in silence for a while until Galoria spoke again. “You never told me what happened that night.”

    “They died.”

    Galoria studied her silently.

    “If what you say is true, it sounds as if they’re trying to reach out to you. And not because they miss you.”

    She ignored the comment and stared out across the room. He cheeks felt hollow and worn, her body weak.

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    “I’ve seen a lot of strange things in my life time,” Galoria said. “Many of them impossible, but that didn’t make them any less real. Let’s say I’m willing to believe you.

    “If the spirits of the dead are here in this world and having an effect on this reality, then you need to find out why. Because I don’t know of any weapon or armor that can protect you from the dead.

    “And one more thing,” Galoria said rising.

    “Stop taking numroot. Your breath reeks of it and it’ll only cloud your mind. A queen needs a clear head and a sound heart. I’ll send in the servants with a bath and fresh food. If you change your mind you’ll find there’s a lot of work to do.”

    She watched Galoria leave. The woman made a good point. It was something she needed to hear and not from anyone else.

    Galoria alone had always been the one who could offer her counsel without making her want to throw someone out a window.

    “You always were a stubborn child.”

    She jumped to her feet. Smoke drifted through the room and a wave of heat washed over her. A figure stepped around the other side of her canopied bed.

    “Father,” she said.

    “Eliza.”

    A lump swelled in her throat. She balled her fists at her sides and forced herself to look. Her father stood tall, hands clasped behind his waist.

    Blood coated his chest from where his throat had been slashed. His clothes were singed and smoke rose from his wide shoulders.

    “You finally acknowledge me,” he said.

    “I thought I was going mad. I think I still might be.”

    He stared at her with pale, glassy eyes.

    “You don’t have the luxury to lose your mind, sweet daughter. Although, I am sorry. It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way.”

    She chuckled nervously. “Are you telling me I wasn’t meant to watch my family slaughtered like sheep? That I’m not supposed to be haunted by them? What a funny thing to say. How comforting.”

    Her father remained silent.

    “Well?” She said. “If I’m really not talking to myself, I could sorely use an explanation.”

    “We need your help, Eliza. That is all.”

    She threw back her head and laughed. Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes.

    “You can’t be serious. Gariel didn’t look as though he wanted my help. I’m fairly certain he wants to kill me.”

    “He is angry at the loss of his life. He had so much he wanted to do. It can’t be helped. Jealousy has found his heart, but he doesn’t want you dead.

    “Eliza, listen to me when I say this. You are the only one with the power needed to do what’s necessary. We are trapped unless you set us free.”

    She looked at him once more, this time in confusion.

    “Necessary? I don’t understand.”

    “You will. I am bound and cannot tell you everything. Not what you can do for us, nor what you can do for this country. You must learn it on your own.”

    “I don’t know if I can.”

    He limped forward and moved his hands out from behind his back. He held up the royal crown and offered it to her.

    “The Sun will show you the way.”

    She took it and held it in the sunlight. Her hands trembled as she studied the way the light bounced off the cut rubies and polished gold. When she looked up her father was gone.

    She sat back down on the window seat and studied the crown in silence until a handful of servants entered her chamber with a tub and buckets of steaming water.

    She took a deep breath and laid the crown on a pillow.

    She still didn’t fully grasp the situation, but one thing was clear to her. She wasn’t hallucinating. Hiding in her chamber wasn’t going to solve a thing. Galoria was right.

    Lucidia needed its queen.

 END OF PART 1 : HOMECOMING