The City of Arches: Sitnalta Series Book 3

By Alisse Lee Goldenberg

The City of Arches is the third book in the Sitnalta Series of a epic fantasy story of magic, wizards, evil kings, betrayal, romance, war, and redemption.

The City of Arches picks up a short time after the ending of The Kingdom Thief as Sitnalta explores her regained home and discovers a letter in which her mother proclaims her love

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pandamoon Publishing
• Release date: Apr 19, 2017
• ISBN: 9781945502439

Alisse Lee Goldenberg

ALISSE LEE GOLDENBERG holds a bachelor of education and a fine arts degree; she has studied fantasy and folklore since she was a child. Alisse lives in Toronto, Canada, with her husband, Brian; their triplets, Joseph, Phillip, and Hailey. She is the award winning author of The Sitnalta Series and The Dybbuk Scrolls. Please feel free to visit her at www.alisseleegoldenberg.com

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Pandamoon Books

The City of Arches

By

Alisse Lee Goldenberg

© 2016 by Alisse Lee Goldenberg

This book is a work of creative fiction that uses actual publicly known events, situations, and locations as background for the storyline with fictional embellishments as creative license allows. Although the publisher has made every effort to ensure the grammatical integrity of this book was correct at press time, the publisher does not assume and hereby disclaims any liability to any party for any loss, damage, or disruption caused by errors or omissions, whether such errors or omissions result from negligence, accident, or any other cause. At Pandamoon, we take great pride in producing quality works that accurately reflect the voice of the author. All the words are the author’s alone.

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Pandamoon Publishing. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

www.pandamoonpublishing.com

Jacket design and illustrations © Pandamoon Publishing

Art Direction by Don Kramer: Pandamoon Publishing

Illustrations by Fletcher Kinnear: Pandamoon Publishing

Editing by Zara Kramer, Rachel Schoenbauer, and Kathy Davidson: Pandamoon Publishing

Pandamoon Publishing and the portrayal of a panda and a moon are registered trademarks of Pandamoon Publishing.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC

Edition: 1, ver. 1.00

ISBN 13: 978-1-945502-43-9

Dedication

As always, for my children.

And this one is also for Ryan: Thank you for inspiring Learsi.

The City of Arches

Prologue

Princess Sitnalta looked out the window and sighed. For the third day in a row, it was raining. She could hear it pounding relentlessly against the roof of the castle and it was as if each drop was mocking her as she sat cooped up inside. She desperately wanted to be outside. She felt as if she’d been trapped indoors for ages and was beyond bored. Normally she would have gone against Queen Aud’s request that she stay inside, but the rain was coming down so strongly, and was so cold, that she had to concede that, just this once, the queen had a point.

Sitnalta sighed and irritably pushed her peacock blue hair out of her face. She had already read every book she could think of and had been kicked out of the kitchen twice for bothering the cooks and other kitchen staff. She had written Prince Navor several letters and had read the last one he had written her so many times that she had committed his words to heart. She wished that he were there with her. At least together, they would find some way to chase away the tedium of her situation. Sitnalta smiled to herself as she thought of the prince and rose to go in search of something to do.

The princess found herself wandering the castle, not knowing or caring where she was headed. She knew her way around her home better than some of the servants who had been there far longer, and she just felt like walking. King Gerald and Queen Aud were entertaining some of Colonodona’s noble families in the dining hall. She had been invited, but the prospect of being forced to put on her best clothes, having her hair all done up in some fancy style, and spending hours making polite conversation with people she barely knew delighted her even less than aimlessly wandering her home.

Sitnalta soon found herself standing in front of the door to a room. She knew each and every room in the castle. As a child, she had forever been evading Aud, and she knew the best places to hide from protective nursemaids and angry parents. She remembered this room well: it had always held an air of mystery to it. She could recall its dust-covered trunks of papers, boxes of unworn jewels, and armoires of old dresses. The first, and only, time she had gone in there, she had been awed by the trunks and mountains of mysterious items that seemed to have no owner. She had begun fantasizing about who could have worn the gowns, whose head had been adorned by the tiaras. She had gone over to the nearest trunk and had been about to open it, expecting to find some magnificent treasure hidden within, when Aud had found her and yanked her away, her face pale as she quickly pulled the door shut behind them once more. When Sitnalta had returned to explore it further, she had found the door securely bolted shut.

Sitnalta had thought about that day over and over again as time passed by. Aud had told her to stay out of the room, informing her that she would tell her about what was there some other time. That time had never come. Yet now, as Sitnalta stood regarding the lock before her, she felt her heart beating strongly in her breast. Sitnalta pulled a long pin from her hair, held it in her hand, and knelt before the door. It took some time, and she felt the prickles of tension creeping up her spine, certain she would be caught and chastised for her behaviour. But eventually, she heard the dull click of the lock snapping open and she pushed the door to the room wide. She cringed as she heard the hinges creak, whining from years of disuse. The princess looked around, ensuring that no one had heard the noise as she slipped into the room and closed the door behind her.

Everything was exactly as she remembered it: the piles of trunks, the jewellery boxes, the stacks of papers. She smiled to herself as she breathed in the musty air, picking her way carefully towards one of the nearest trunks and kneeling before it. She settled in, determined to unravel the mystery of whose belongings these were.

Sitnalta had already begun fantasizing over the possibility of discovering a lost princess or queen whose life story lay in these gowns and trinkets. She felt excited as she snapped open the clasps. Pulling the lid open, Sitnalta peered inside. Though she had been expecting gold and jewels, she was not disappointed by the box’s contents. Sitnalta found herself pulling out a long, brown cloak. She unfolded it, spreading the coarse cloth across her lap. It had several tears in it, mended with red thread. The cloak was held together with a heavy bronze clasp. She wondered who would save such a tattered item of clothing. She fingered the clasp, pondering its significance. It certainly wasn’t valuable. Its owner must have saved it for sentimental reasons.

Sitnalta carefully put the cloak aside and looked into the trunk to see what else there was. She pulled out a pair of brown leather breeches, a green tunic, and a wickedly sharp silver dagger. She frowned as she looked at these items, wondering what they were doing in a room filled with gowns and jewels, then grinned as she saw a stack of parchment held together with wide red ribbons. For her, this was real treasure. Words held real meaning. Words could tell a story, and through the lines on these pages, she would learn whose things these were.

She picked up the stack, untied the ribbon, and unfolded the top piece of parchment. Sitnalta realized she was looking at a long letter. It had not been sealed and she furrowed her brow in thought, coming to the conclusion that it had never been sent. Who would write such a long letter and not send it? This made no sense for someone to take the time to commit so much to so many pages and leave it unsaid. She knew that she had to find out what had happened and why the letter was never sent.

Holding the letter, Sitnalta moved to the corner of the room and made herself comfortable, the rainy day forgotten. She would solve this mystery no matter how long it took. She scanned the first few lines under the greeting, taking in the delicate cursive of the unfamiliar handwriting, before going back to the top of the page to start at the beginning. Her eyes went wide as she saw who the letter was addressed to:

My dearest Kralc,

Sitnalta’s mind filled with hundreds of questions. She remembered the wizard and his thunderous moods. Her last meeting with him had ended cordially, but it had nearly resulted in disaster for those she cared about. For anyone to address him as dearest boggled the mind. She briefly thought that there might be another with that name, but a quick read of the next few lines mentioned the use of magic, and she quickly dismissed that idea. She looked at the next few pages, and saw that they contained the details of a story.

Sitnalta saw the name City of Arches written further down the page. Seeing the mention of that place caused her pulse to quicken. Someone had actually known what had happened there and had written about it to the wizard. She wondered who that could be and, without a second thought, she flipped to the last page of the letter. Her mouth went dry, and her heart hammered loudly in her chest as she read the signature at the bottom of the page:

Do not forget me. I remain always yours,

Learsi

Sitnalta held the letter in shaking hands, feeling the room spin around her. Her mother had been the writer. She felt goose bumps crawl up her arms as the papers fell from her fingers. She looked around her, feeling an irrational certainty that Kralc himself would appear and rip the letter from her, but she quashed that thought as soon as it had formed. She picked the letter up once more and drew a steadying breath. She looked down at the first page and began to read…

Chapter One ― The Lost Princess

Learsi crouched in the alley between the buildings. Her breath came out in wisps, fogging the air around her. She reached up and tucked an errant strand of her long blue hair beneath the brown fabric of her hooded cloak. Her purple eyes scanned the street, looking around to see if anyone was watching her. She was starving. She hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days. Her bare feet were freezing against the stone of the streets, and her dress was stained and torn. But her cloak kept out most of the chill, and she was grateful for its reassuring weight upon her shoulders. She was tired, and the fatigue plus the hunger made her nerves over what she was doing all that much worse. She focused on keeping her hands from trembling. She had been living on the streets for more months than she cared to count. Some days, the kindness of strangers kept her safe, warm, and fed. On occasion, some good samaritan would offer her shelter for the night; a safe place in a barn, or a bed by the hearth. Learsi spent other nights shivering in the dark, looking for shelter among barrels, behind other people’s homes, or hiding in stables—anywhere she would not be noticed, or chased away. Tonight looked to be shaping up to be one of those kinds of nights, and she grimaced thinking about sleeping out in the cold.

Learsi looked out into the street, searching for the right person. Too many people walking by looked too alert, too aware of the world. She knew that to go after any one of them would only lead to certain disaster. She had quickly learned who was safe and who was dangerous. Then she spotted him. One man was walking, his head tilted down, his attention focused solely on the book in his hands. She smiled to herself and slowly crept out from the shadows. She swallowed down any feeling of guilt and focused solely on her own survival.

Learsi followed the man as he walked down the street. She kept a close enough distance to keep him in view, but not close enough to be detected by him. She waited until he stopped walking and stood loitering under the sign of a nearby tavern with an air of nonchalance as he thumbed through the pages of the book in his hands. She inched closer to him, subtly making her way closer until she was standing right beside him, as he reclined against the tavern’s outer wall. He still read his book, acting oblivious to her presence. Learsi smiled to herself as she regarded her mark. He was tall and thin, wearing dark green velvet robes. It was clear that he was someone well-off and important. She slowly inched closer, her bare feet making no sound as they skimmed across the ground. She saw the tell-tale bulge of a money purse through his robe, and she reached out her hand. Through the fabric of his robe, she subtly unhooked the purse and let it drop. She leaned back, satisfied that her task was done.

The man stepped forward, leaving the purse on the ground. As Learsi stepped forward to retrieve it, he turned, pinning her in place with icy grey eyes.

Is this what royalty has come to in this town? he asked.

Learsi froze, her eyes wide with fear. What of it? she responded, a sharp edge to her voice. She saw such knowledge and power in those eyes. She realized that it would do no good to protest. She lifted the purse and handed it out to him. You dropped this.

If by ‘dropped’, you mean that you attempted to steal it, then yes, I did.

How dare you! Learsi snapped. She felt panic beginning to rise, and fought hard to keep it from showing. She glanced about, feeling slightly grateful that no one was watching their exchange.

I knew you were following me, he said. I’ve known from the instant you crept out from that alley. I merely wondered what you were going to do.

Learsi crossed her arms over her chest. And?

And I can see that you are headed down a dangerous path.

And what are you going to do about it? Learsi asked. It’s not as if anyone is jumping out of the woodwork to try and help me.

His eyes softened as he looked at her. "What if I offered to help you?"

At what price? she asked. I’ve long since learned that everything comes at a price.

Let’s just say that it’s something I owe your parents.

Her eyes narrowed. My parents are dead. No one helped them, and no one is going to help me.

And if I promised that there was a chance I could get them back for you?

Learsi looked at him as if he were crazy. That’s impossible, she said.

I’m working on a way, he insisted. Just enter the tavern with me. I will buy you a proper meal. Or at least the closest thing to a proper meal that this establishment can provide.

She weighed her options. If she went with him, she would at least get herself fed. If she stayed out in the street, she’d stay hungry. There was the chance that this man was insane, but she’d be surrounded by the other patrons of the tavern. They’d see if he tried anything.

Can I at least ask who you are? she said.

He nodded. I am called Kralc, he responded.

Learsi’s jaw dropped as she processed the name. He motioned for her to follow, and, swallowing any misgiving she may have had, she did.

* * *

Learsi sat in the tavern, trying to eat the meal before her as politely as possible, but her hunger was making it an unthinkable task. She was shovelling the stew into her mouth at a speed that many would not think possible. She wasn’t even aware of how it tasted. All she cared about was that it was hot and it was filling. She could feel the wizard watching her, but he was not attempting to speak to her as she ate. He hadn’t ordered anything but wine for himself, and he had barely sipped at it. Instead, he seemed content to let Learsi do the eating for the both of them.

Well? Learsi asked after she had sopped up the last of the gravy from her dish.

Well, what? Kralc asked.

Learsi clamped down on the feeling of irritation that his question had brought out. You brought me in here, bought me a meal, and then said nothing. What I want to know is why.

Why? Kralc asked. He leaned his elbows on the table and pressed forward, steepling his fingers together. My dear, I have spent so much time looking for you. I have spent years looking for one such as yourself. As a line went, it usually got him exactly what he wanted. I want to give you everything that you deserve. I want you to have your birthright back.

Learsi snorted in disbelief. My birthright? What do you know of that?

Kralc smiled at her. There was no kindness in the expression. If you take your hood down and let me see that hair of yours…

Learsi looked around her. No one in the tavern was paying any attention to them. Yet, all the same, she felt that she couldn’t risk it. All it would take was one person seeing her and recognizing her. You know very well why I can’t do that, she hissed.

I do, he said. He regarded her with his cold, grey eyes. He could see her fear, though she managed to hide it well. He admired her courage. Come with me, Kralc said. I have a room above this place. We can talk there in private. I give you my word that I will tell you everything.

Learsi gripped the table’s edge with sweaty hands. She didn’t want to be alone with this man. Every fibre of her being was screaming at her to run far and run fast. However, if he was who he claimed he was, he just might be able to help her. This was the first time in a very long time that anyone claimed to be a true ally of hers. She did not really believe that he could bring her parents back for her, yet she had heard of the wizard Kralc, and she had heard of the formidable power he had at his disposal. If anybody could do as he claimed, it was him. She grabbed her tankard of ale off the table and drank it down.

I will go with you, she said.

Kralc nodded and held out his hand. My lady.

On shaking legs, Learsi followed him out of the room and up the stairs. Every instinct she had was screaming at her to turn around and get out of there. Yet she pressed on. She surreptitiously reached under her cloak and felt through her skirt. There, strapped to her thigh, was her dagger. She always carried it with her, but had never had to use it before. She usually found that the threat of its existence was enough to deter anyone from trying anything against her.

Kralc arrived at the door to a room a little way down a cramped hallway. He pulled out a heavy brass key and unlocked the door. He then turned to Learsi. Follow me, he said, meeting her eyes, and pushing the door