The Dark Prince

Chapter 1

Chapter 1The same night in the parallel world of Earth…

The night was dark and lonely, and it was late.

Val Kingsley was sitting at his computer composing his next novel, but he couldn’t seem to get into it. He was distracted by the sounds of the carnival close-by. It was the First Night Celebration of the week-long Winter Carnival at Saranac Lake, and he could hear the sounds of music, laughter, and screams in the distance. But it was when he heard something that sounded like a shot that he became concerned. He knew that it could have been the crack of a whip, or even a firecracker. He’d heard sounds like this before. Guns and whips were often used in the animal trainer acts. He’d seen it himself. It didn’t hurt them. It was just a way of keeping the animals in line. But the sounds continued into the night and were haunting as they echoed through the trees. As the night grew darker, what was happy laughter before seemed to turn to wild screams, and the music from the rides began to sound like a band of maniacal musicians. Val knew he was just having a bout with his nerves, but suddenly in the midst of all the noise rose one tormented cry that sounded high and frightened.

It made him wonder if an animal had escaped, and he continued to listen, but when he heard nothing more, he decided to go to bed. When he was about to climb the stairs, he heard a loud thud at his front door. The sound jolted him, and he looked down at his watch, noticing the late hour.

Who could it be at this time of night? He wondered.

He didn’t like the idea of receiving visitors so late, and he was a little hesitant as he turned and went to the front door. Before opening it, he looked through the curtained glass panel but didn’t see anyone.

“Who is it?” he called out.

He stood still, listening for the voice of a friend or a stranded traveler who needed help, but he heard nothing. Not even the wind. It made him wonder if perhaps a bird had lost its way in the dark. Since he lived in a rural area, many times he saw animals in his yard. Deer, squirrels, and even raccoons. Once he even saw a bear. It seemed that on the nights when the moon was full, the animal kingdom went a little crazy. Opening the door all the way, he saw that the night was bright, but there were no birds in the sky, no animals, nothing. And then as he stepped out to get a better look, he stumbled on something and looked down to see a man crumpled up at his doorstep. He crouched down to see what was wrong with him and noticed the blood. In the dark he couldn’t tell how bad his wound was and needed to get him inside so he could help him. He struggled as he pulled him to a standing position, just barely managing to drape him over his body and drag him along. He moved slowly, but he finally made it to the winding staircase with the man’s heavy body bearing down on him. At last, as his hand covered the cold metal of the antiquated knob, he turned it ever so gently and pushed it open. He was immediately greeted with the familiar musty smell and the close quarters, and after a few grunts and groans, he managed to get the stranger on the bed.

He’d wondered many times why he had chosen the tower room. He had other bedrooms, even a couch in his living room which would have been easier, but the man was bleeding and was very disheveled and muddy. Besides, he was a stranger, and Val’s intuition told him to take the stranger to the tower room. A place under lock and key. A place away from the rest of the house. A place where any damage he might do would be manageable. The room was round, and the walls were thick and made mostly of stone. It had one large window that looked out over the highway to the wooded area across the way. There was no way out of the room except by the stairs, and it had loose boards that squeaked. Right now, the stranger needed his wound attended and then rest. As Val gathered up the things he needed, he noticed how cool it was in the room and reminded himself that the central heat and air didn’t come up this far. That meant he would need a fire.

As he worked on the man’s wound, his gaze strayed toward his face that seemed full of shadows in the dimly lit room. His hair was thick and dark, and it was spread out on the pillow in a curtain of loose waves. His build looked virile and strong as he lay on his back with his arms splayed out and nothing but the remnants of old clothes covering his body. It looked like he had traveled far. His chest was muscled and glowed with what seemed like a golden heat in the dim light. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his body that must stand well over six feet.

When he was finally finished cleaning his wound, he put the things away and then stepped over to the fireplace and got some logs out of the bin. He crouched down in front of it, moving very quietly as he took the logs and laid them inside with a few balls of wadded up newspaper. He then struck a match, and in no time at all, the fire had spread and engulfed the logs, making the small, chilled, mysterious room suddenly snug and comfortable.

He looked around when he heard movement and saw the man staring at him.

“Who are you?” the man asked with a suspicious tone to his voice.

Val stared at his strong, body for a moment, and then his gaze moved upward to his face. “I’m Val Kingsley. You must be chilled. I thought I’d make a fire for you.”

“Where am I?” the man asked, looking around curiously.

“You’re at my home just short of Lake Saranac. I found you on my doorstep, so I brought you up here.”

The man looked down at his wound. “What’s this?”

“You were bleeding. I cleaned it and put a bandage on it. I didn’t call a doctor because it’s rather hard to get a doctor out here at this time of night. Besides, it didn’t look that serious. There wasn’t much blood. It looks like a bullet just seared your skin.”

“A bullet?” the man said, a frown on his face as if he were trying to remember what had happened to him.

“Don’t worry. It’s just a scratch.” Val watched the man as he looked around the room with eyes that cut and jumped from one wall to another until they slowly came back to Val. “So who are you, and where do you come from?” Val asked.

“I…” He hesitated. “I can’t seem to remember,” the stranger said.

Val didn’t want to question him, so he watched him for a moment. The man moved like a predator as he sat up on the side of the bed, his long hair hanging down past his shoulders, and a light beard shadowing his face. Val discerned a mysterious aura that seemed to surround the man. His eyes were unsettled, almost animal-like as they continued to shift around. “So, what happened?” Val asked. “Were you being chased? Do you know who shot you? Did you lose your way in the dark?”

The man looked back at Val, his gaze dark and defensive, but he said nothing.

“Okay, look, do you have any identification on you?”

The man began feeling around on himself, digging in one pocket and then another until he suddenly seemed to remember something, reached up to his neck, and found a chain. He pulled it out, and saw a medallion with a crown trapped inside a thicket of briars and two swirling initials, SC. “Now I remember. I am Savanne.”

Val took it out of his hands and looked at it. “How do you get Savanne from this?”

“It’s my identification.”

“A crown and briars?”

“This medallion was given to me at my birth. My mother slipped it around my neck the moment I was born, and I’ve been wearing it ever since.”

“The briars. They look as if they are trying to overcome the crown. What does it mean?”

“It is a prophetic message, but I’m not sure what it means. The SC means Savanne of Casmir.”

“It seems odd that you would remember that, but you don’t remember anything else.”

“Ever since I found myself here, in this…world, my memory comes and goes. But I do know about the medallion. I mean, Cinderella had her glass slipper, Snow White had her poisoned apple, and I…I have this.”

Val looked down at the medallion he was holding, and then up at the stranger. “I don’t understand. These were people in fairy tales. What do they have to do with you?”

“I don’t know what they were to you, but to me they were people that lived in my world.”

“And your world is…?”

“Casmir.”

“Casmir,” Val repeated. “That sounds like an Indian name. What part of India are you from?”

“I do not know this…India as you call it. I come from Casmir. It is part of the Sinio Islands in the Unknown Ocean at the End of the World.”

Val just looked at the stranger, wondering if he was off his rocker. “Whatever,” Val finally mumbled.

“But it’s true. All of it.”

“Yes, well, good to know you…Savanne. As I said earlier, I’m Val Kingsley.”

“I heard you,” Savanne said grimly.

“By the way…the crown there. Does that mean you’re royalty?”

“I was…am. A prince and heir to the throne.”

As Val’s eyes raked over his body, he could almost see beyond his ragged clothes to a garment that included crowns, sashes, and buckles. With this thought still in mind, he looked at Savanne, and with a curious gleam in his eyes, he asked, “So, where is your kingdom…Savanne? Where do you reign? Is it this…Casmir you mentioned?”

“Yes,” Savanne said shortly.

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“And I had never heard of your world until…”

“You keep calling this place a…world. What the hell are you talking about?”

“You think I’m lying?”

“I don’t know, damn it. But I’ve lived in this country all my life and have even traveled extensively. If there’s a place called Casmir anywhere on this planet, I’ve never heard of it.”

“Who said it was on this planet?”

“Oh, I see,” Val said sarcastically. “You’re one of those little green men, are you?”

Savanne, clearly insulted, stood up slowly, his face dark and angry. “You will not insult me again,” he whispered threateningly. “Just because I’m a little different from the other people in this…this…world of yours doesn’t mean I’m not as good. I am a prince, and if we were in my world, I could have you flogged within an inch of your life.”

Slowly, Val stood and faced Savanne, their gazes meeting in confrontation. They didn’t blink or look away, but each one followed the other as a silent war was waged between them.

It certainly did seem as if this man had lived his life in command. He walked like royalty, talked like royalty, and had a lofty way about him. Still, for all his confidence and self-assurance he tried to assert, Val could tell that underneath it all he was lost, alone, and afraid. That was when he knew that this man, royalty or not, was just trying to put up a brave front. Hell, maybe he was a king, a prince, or the president of some country he’d never heard of. He was ready to believe he came from a place called Casmir until he began spouting off words like “Unknown Ocean” and “End of the World.” Still, he didn’t seem crazy—or did he? He only knew one thing for certain. Until he knew just what this man’s story really was, one thought lingered in the back of Val’s mind.

Who the hell have I just brought in off my doorstep?