Angst Box Set 2

by David Pedersen

  “Wh..what?” Ranson stuttered.

  “Have you ever tried to make it a safe place for wielders?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “So you blindly accept things as they are rather than enforcing tough changes,” Wilfred said. “And now you’re on the run?”

  “Not exactly,” Ranson said, tugging at his collar. “Mika convinced me that we need to be here. He worries for his cousin’s safety. He’s always felt very strongly about her.”

  Royalty, Wilfred thought, rolling his eyes. “I appreciate your concern, but Angst has convinced me that she’s safe until he returns.”

  “Maybe,” Ranson said, caution in his voice. “My son is worried that the spell may not last if Angst is delayed.”

  “A fair concern,” Wilfred allowed. “What are you suggesting?”

  “Mika merely wants to stand guard and maybe study the spell,” Ranson said. “He would like to find a backup plan.”

  His first thought was to say no with a side of no and two more helpings of no, but it would solve a problem. Angst had requested that wielders help guard Princess Victoria, and they had, but they would soon be leaving to fight the Fulk’han. Others had offered to help, but they were too young or had passive abilities. If the princess was harmed because the wielder guarding couldn’t do more than summon up a vat of chocolate pudding, Wilfred would get the sharp end of a foci. Despite his reservations, and he had many, Mika could supposedly manipulate time.

  “Do you think your son could make the time-shield-whatever-it-is last longer?” Wilfred asked hopefully.

  “I can ask him to try,” Ranson offered.

  Maybe, sometimes, things actually do work out. The thought gave Wilfred the tiniest bit of hope. Not only could he protect Unsel against the Fulk’han zealots, he could do Angst’s bidding and maybe even help save his queen. Not to mention, it was unlikely that Mika could do much anyway—he was a kid, and Angst was Al’eyrn with two giant magic swords. What could possibly go wrong?

  “Under guard,” Wilfred said. “Someone will always be there to watch.”

  “Of course,” Ranson said with a nod. “Thank you.”

  “As for your other concerns, I believe I understand now,” Wilfred said with a deep breath. “You fear that people will turn on the wielders if we let them use their magics freely.”

  “Precisely,” Ranson said. “We can’t treat them like normal people. It’s too dangerous for everyone.”

  “Sire,” his assistant said. “It’s time.”

  “Good,” Wilfred said, smiling at her. “Ranson, come with me. I need to show you something.”

  Wilfred could hear Lord Ranson’s crisp steps from behind as he rushed forward, insistent on staying a shoulder’s width in front of the man with much longer legs. He turned sharply on his heel, and Ranson scrambled to keep up. There was no way he would let the man lead, especially when Ranson had no clue where they were heading, on so many levels.

  He stopped abruptly before a wide, wooden door.

  “What is this?” Ranson asked.

  “Hope,” Wilfred replied, the door creaking loudly as he swung it open.

  A dozen soldiers stood in a smallish hall that led directly outside. Each of them wore steel armor with shiny plate that covered their chests. Chainmail dangled below the plate, covering full bellies or tight stomachs. The armor was like Angst’s, and every one of the wielders wore a red cloak that hid their very unarmored backsides.

  “Wilfred,” Andec said with a smile as he approached.

  “Thank you for coming together so quickly,” Wilfred said, shaking the man’s hand. “It was a lot for us to ask.”

  “Anything for our queen,” Andec replied with a nod.

  “This is Lord Ranson,” Wilfred said.

  “A pleasure, my lord,” Andec said, bowing his head.

  Ranson bowed his head graciously, but said nothing.

  “What did you decide, Andec?” Wilfred asked.

  “We’re splitting into groups of three,” he replied. “Each party will consist of at least one wielder who can attack, and another who can defend. We will make our stand at the four towns nearest the highway. “

  “And you’re all aware that the Fulk’han can regenerate?” Wilfred asked.

  “Hopefully they can’t regenerate without heads!” Tanden called out. The middle-aged bookkeeper cupped his hands together as if choking someone’s throat.

  Wilfred laughed with them, grateful for the confidence, hoping Tanden was right.

  “Is everything set right, my lord?” a young woman asked. She couldn’t have been older than sixteen, with dark caramel skin and large bright eyes full of life.

  “I ratified Rookshire as a city this morning, Amay, which means I get to start collecting taxes tomorrow,” Wilfred said to laughter and a little back-patting. “It should’ve been done sooner.”

  “You would make a good king,” Andec said proudly.

  “Victoria will make a better queen,” Wilfred said. “It’s time for a wielder to take the throne.”

  They cheered, and Wilfred’s chest filled with pride. He knew this was their future, and was excited to be part of it. Though not everyone seemed enthusiastic. One stood apart, buckling her boots for the umpteenth time. She was a striking forty-something with sharp features and long hair black as night.

  “Nikkola?” Wilfred asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I heard that Kala is with Angst. Why are you here?”

  “My daughter went with Angst to be a hero,” she said, her face taut as if holding back tears. “I would be doing her a disservice if I didn’t do the same. And, I want a safe Unsel for when she comes home.”

  “You’ll both come home safe,” Wilfred said. “I believe it.”

  Her mouth smiled at the sentiment, but her eyes bespoke pain and anger.

  “Kala?” Ranson asked, frowning in confusion.

  “I think my daughter snuck onto Angst’s caravan,” Nikkola said. “She wanted to go on an adventure, to be a hero. I don’t think they had time to return her and save the princess. Kala is too young to be out there. She will only be thirteen in a few months.”

  “Oh...well I’m sure Kala will return home safely,” Ranson said, his voice smooth but his eyes squinting with worry. “I hear she is in good hands.”

  “The best,” Heather said.

  Wilfred hadn’t seen her. She’d been facing away from them, kneeling before a pale, curly headed boy, who Wilfred hoped with all his heart was older than fifteen. The boy’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes filled with pride, as if ready to take on the Fulk’han by himself. Heather finished clasping the red cloak and ruffled his hair before standing.

  “Heather,” Wilfred said, his eyes dancing around the room. “Please tell me you aren’t going with. Please.”

  It took a moment to gather his wits and realize that Heather wasn’t wearing armor. She wore a brown leather corset that was very flattering, and a dark tapered skirt that hung over her black riding boots. The forest green traveling cloak was almost hidden by the full mass of brown curls that teased a few grays, which draped over her shoulders. She looked radiant, and everyone stood at attention as she approached Wilfred. She smiled broadly, and the room practically glowed with encouragement and bravery.

  “Who...who is this woman?” Ranson asked, slack jawed.

  “Angst’s wife,” Wilfred said over his shoulder.

  “Oh,” Ranson said, standing up straight. He bowed slightly. “My lady.”

  “Lord Ranson,” she said with a gentle bow of her head. “No, Wilfred, I’m not going with.”

  “Good,” he said in relief, sweat pouring from his hairline. “I worried for the enemy.”

  “Well said,” she replied with a coy smile. “My children come before Unsel, always.”

  “Of course,” Wilfred replied sternly. “I was just surprised to see you. Are the twins okay?”

  “They are wonderful,” she replied, gushing with happiness. The entire room seemed elated,
which wasn’t a surprise since she never completely controlled her ability to sway other’s emotions with her own. “And safe. I have an entire city more than happy to protect them. Isn’t it wonderful that Rookshire is a city, Lord Ranson?”

  Every eye in the room turned on Ranson. The older man choked down a fit of coughing that lasted too long to be fake.

  “It should’ve been done months ago, my lady,” Ranson rasped, looking slightly defeated.

  “You are too kind,” Heather said. “Thank you for your support.”

  Ranson nodded graciously.

  “Our zyn’ight are ready, Wilfred the Wise,” Heather said.

  “What?” Ranson asked in more than a whisper. “These aren’t knights! These are children, women, old men...what am I seeing?”

  “You are seeing patriots and heroes, Lord Ranson. Wielders giving their lives to protect the people of Unsel,” Wilfred said. “The Fulk’han are already at the border, and these are the heroes who will save us.”

  Nordruaut

  The air was so fresh, it was practically intoxicating. Rose had been stuck in the room with the very ripe princess for far too long. Not only did she want out to breathe, she really needed a break to think. A lot about Alloria didn’t sit right. She’d appeared out of nowhere with half a foci, and instructions to kill them. In a matter of hours, the princess’s mood had changed from cornered animal to flirty waitress. It was unnatural, as if someone else controlled the puppet. Or she was just a crazy bitch.

  “Thank you for letting me go outside,” Alloria said with an innocent smile.

  “You aren’t a prisoner,” Dallow said. “Well, actually, we all are.”

  “You’re sweet.” She giggled and brushed his cheek with her hand. “And cute.”

  Dallow smiled like a child given candy, blushing furiously. He adjusted the memndus stone on his temple, Rose could only imagine what he was focusing on.

  “Where do you bathe?” Alloria asked.

  “In the creek,” Rose said, struggling to keep hatred from her words. “It’s cold, really cold, but that’s all we’ve got.”

  “Oh, okay,” Alloria said. Without warning, she wiggled out of her corset and tossed it to the ground. Before anyone could object, she squirmed out of her tight leather riding pants. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Nope,” Hector said, wiping his mouth.

  Dallow shook his head, but said nothing.

  Alloria’s hips swayed hither and to, her walk mesmerizing even Rose. She deftly hid the long triangular dagger in front of her thigh. Goosebumps rose on the young woman’s pale skin as she went ankle deep into the clear water with a high-pitched, “oooh.” When she was waist deep, she turned around and shivered, the chilled water making her goosebumps, and everything else perky, quite visible. “You’re right. It really is cold.”

  Rose smacked Dallow in the back of the head.

  “What?” he asked.

  “She’s sixteen,” Rose admonished quietly.

  “I’m not sure I believe you,” Hector replied, turning away as slowly as humanly possible.

  “Right,” Dallow said with a stiff nod, staring off into nothing.

  Rose took the memndus stone from his temple.

  “Hey,” Dallow said defensively, grasping at the air. “I can’t see.”

  “Good,” Rose replied.

  “This water feels wonderful,” Alloria said. “I could probably stay in here forever.”

  “Good plan,” Rose said.

  “Could you toss me my clothes so I can wash them?” she asked.

  Rose picked up the leather leftovers and walked to the creek. No wonder Angst was so fond of this one. Alloria’s breasts were so large and perfect that Rose wanted to slap her. What had her parents fed her? She was just a teen, but didn’t look like one. Had she really kissed Angst? He must’ve been overwhelmed. Rose knew well enough that that was never his goal. He prided himself on having friends who were beautiful women, but never crossed the line. He kicked at that line, jumped on it and stomped around, but the line was still there. That line versus that kiss must’ve been a whole new challenge. And this girl must’ve known that. She was dangerous.

  “While you’re being all naked in front of everyone, could you tell us how it is that you’re dead?”

  “We’d really like to understand,” Hector called out.

  “Turn back around, old man,” Rose said under her breath, returning to the others. She couldn’t roll her eyes enough. There was only so much bathing and goosebumps she could take.

  “Oh, and I’m not sixteen,” Alloria called out. “I’m seventeen now!”

  Dallow and Hector both grunted, mostly facing away from the spectacle.

  “Sometimes I really hate Angst,” Rose huffed.

  “What did he do now?” Dallow asked defensively.

  “This is all him,” Rose said, glancing at the gorgeous young woman wading in deeper. “Wow, she’s really perfect. Too bad you guys can’t see.”

  “I hate you,” Hector said.

  “Go find some towels,” Rose demanded.

  “Some?” Hector asked.

  “One for her body, one for her hair,” she explained. “And one for both of you. You’ll need a cold bath after this.”

  “Ha,” he said, rushing off.

  After much splashing, a few too many giggles for Rose’s taste, and one invitation that was quickly denied, Hector finally returned. He walked right past Rose’s hand and brought an open towel directly to the princess. She exited the creek and pulled it around her. Rose wanted to barf. In all her years, Rose had never had that much fun taking a cold bath.

  “Thank you, Hector,” Alloria said.

  “My pleasure,” he replied, looking back at Rose with a wry smile. “You were going to tell us why you think you’re dead.”

  Hector laid another towel across the warm walkway. Alloria sat down and began drying, leaving very little to the imagination. They all sat. Dallow held out a hand and Rose placed the memndus stone in his palm. He shoved it under the blue kerchief covering his eyes, adjusting it until the stone was against his temple. He sighed in relief.

  “What happened to your eyes?” Alloria asked.

  “We were killing a dragon, and their blood is like lava,” Dallow said with a shudder. “That blood sprayed across my face...”

  “You poor thing,” she said, resting a hand on his knee.

  “He’s fine,” Rose said, brushing the hand off. “You’re the most alive dead person I’ve ever seen.”

  “Yeah,” Alloria said, staring at the corner of her towel. “My father, stepmother, and I were visiting Cliffview. They’d left me alone for a social gathering, and I was going to sneak out with friends.” Her face twisted like she suddenly had cramps. “So many of my friends had gone there to meet up with me. All dead now. Cliffview, my friends, my family.”

  She shuddered and held herself. Rose wanted to say something, but didn’t know if this was an act or the truth.

  “Water attacked, the city began falling into the ocean, and I fell too,” Alloria said with a white-knuckled grip on the towel, as if it kept her breathing. “I stopped falling and so did everything around me. I just hung there, over the ocean, waiting to fall to my death. A tall, bald man appeared. He called himself Vivek.”

  “As in, ‘by the Dark Vivek’?” Dallow asked.

  “The same,” Alloria said frantically, her voice shaky. “He told me I was already dead, and I knew he was right. He offered me a ruby ring and said it would keep me alive if I did what he told me. Dark Vivek said he would always know where I am. He told me I would be queen of Unsel if I followed his command.”

  “In all your nakedness, Your Highness,” Rose said sarcastically, “I don’t remember seeing a ruby ring.”

  “Angst has one on a necklace,” Hector said in a panic. “This Dark Vivek didn’t kill him—”

  “No,” Alloria said. “He carries mine. I put it around his neck when I kissed him.” She looked as if she’d
stolen pie from a baker.

  “That’s why you kissed him,” Rose said.

  “No,” Alloria replied abruptly. “I kissed him because he’s Angst. I want him to be my champion, and not hers, and... It doesn’t matter. I just hoped that if he had my ring, I’d be safe, and it worked.”

  “Right,” Rose drolled, hoping it sounded politer than calling her a liar.

  “I swear, he’ll be my champion!” Alloria said, holding up the dagger. “Angst and I are close, and we’ll...he’ll love...”

  “Alloria!” Hector snapped.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice becoming small as she set the dagger down. She took deep, calming breaths. “I think about Angst a lot. He was always nice to me, when nobody else was. He protects me every day without knowing it.”

  “You said the Dark Vivek would always know where you are when you wore the ring,” Dallow said. “That means he always knows where Angst is.”

  “I’m sorry,” Alloria said, covering her mouth with a hand. “I’m sorry. I never meant to put him in danger.”

  “That explains a lot,” Hector said.

  “It wasn’t just coincidence that the elements could always find us,” Dallow said. “The attacks on Victoria, the battles at sea... I don’t even know how we made it.”

  “Angst,” Alloria said, looking at them all sheepishly.

  “Tell us more,” Rose said, frustrated she couldn’t strangle the tramp.

  “A lot of people died. Vars killed Queen Isabelle and Captain Guard Tyrell,” she began. “I was queen, for a while, and then Unsel was attacked by Water. Half the castle was destroyed, the woman with light wings threw two daggers at the battle, and the Dark Vivek told me to pick them up.” She held up half of Jormbrinder. “It hurt so much, but then I saw Angst kiss some woman.”

  “Heather,” Rose corrected.

  “No,” Alloria said. “A fish woman. She was covered in scales like a mermaid but had legs.”

  “Moyra,” Hector said, peering with his wolf-like eyes. “She had legs?”

  “Yes,” Alloria said in a disapproving tone. “And when they were done kissing, Water killed her.”