by RJ Metcalf
“Very true.” Slate shoved his hands into his pockets and sighed. “And I’m willing to bet it’ll be just a few months—or weeks—before they have this place covered in flowers and we’re welcoming some princess here to make arrangements for a new marriage.” His nose twitched at the thought of all the greenery they’d decorated with last time, when they were welcoming Rose to the kingdom. “Huzzah for allergies.”
Finn chuckled, the shadows in his face not fully gone, but easing up. “Come by my shop before then, and I can mix something up for you that will take the edge off.”
“Thanks.” Slate sighed and gestured with one hand. “Well, if I can’t find Garnet out here I may as well head back and find out if Clara will let me visit.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Finn agreed. He paused, his countenance darkening once more. “Slate, before you go, do you know what’s going on in the eastern garrison?”
Slate moved to the side to allow a family past him, their two smallest children creating a human chain of arms that bumped into every passerby. He gave the exasperated mother a friendly nod while his mind worked over Finn’s question. “I don’t know of anything unusual happening, no. No palace rumors or anything. Why?”
Finn’s vest rippled with his shrug. “I’ve heard people commenting on all the activity and supplies they were gathering, so I wasn’t sure if they were preparing for some new training activity or if we should be concerned about something from Aerugo.”
“I haven’t heard anything about new hostilities from Aerugo, and I’m sure Cole would’ve mentioned something to me if they had a big training gig going on that wasn’t official.” Slate shook his head, his jaw jutted out. “I’ll look into it. But Captain Stevens keeps a tight hand on everyone, so I’m confident there’s nothing to worry about.”
Chapter Four
Zak
Six-year-old Zak Monomi frowned as he watched the men of Eastern Command prepare to leave. Most mornings, the soldiers would talk and laugh, even call out greetings if they noticed him hanging out by the gate. But today, as the first rays of light glinted off armor as they saddled their horses, the men worked quietly, every movement reminding him of when Zane or Zandra were angry and saying they weren’t.
Zak tapped his cast against his leg, cautious to not jostle his arm too much. He looked up at his brother. “They’re going on a mission, right? Why are they so …” He gestured at the soldiers when his words failed him. “Why aren’t they happy?”
Eyebrows knit, lips pressed together, concern tightening the skin around his eyes, Zane’s expression matched many of the soldiers’. He leaned back against the fence with his arms crossed, toned muscles evident despite his loose shirt. Zane glanced down at him and sighed, then looked back at the soldiers. “They got orders to go out and … take care of … a small town.” He paused, speaking slowly, as if being careful. “They aren’t easy orders to follow. It’s because of a border dispute that’s been going on for years. Generations, really.” Zane’s hair swished slightly when he shook his head, his brow furrowed. “Far too long.”
“Why?” Zak leaned against the fence, mimicking Zane’s pose.
Zane’s lips twitched with a small smile. He ruffled Zak’s hair, then braced his forearms on the fence, leaning back into them. “You’ll learn the details in school soon enough.” His gaze followed the soldiers as they mounted their horses and turned toward the east gate. “But it all comes down to land lines between Doldra and Aerugo, and people who are unhappy with the changes that happened when the barrier went up.”
“Is that city full of bad guys then?” Zak closed his eyes, trying to recall the name he heard one of the soldiers say. “Selvage?”
Zane shook his head, and his single small hoop earring caught the sunlight with a dim flash. “No, the city isn’t full of bad guys.” He paused as the captain, a huge man, whose bulk made his horse look like a pony, bellowed and rode out, the soldiers streaming into a line behind him. Zane continued once the initial noise and dust settled to a level that allowed them to hear. “Almost all the rebels that have worked against Doldra are from there, yes. But there are innocent families that live there too. Even in the worst of situations, in the worst of cultures, there will always be innocents. Some of them are there simply because that is where they were raised, that is where their livelihood is, and they can’t afford to move away. But staying there is dangerous. It’s almost as if they’re condoning the actions of the Reformers, helping them to succeed by being their shopkeepers, their farmers, their smiths. It’s difficult, this situation.”
“Who are the Reformers?”
Zane’s jaw clenched and his eyes hardened. “Bad guys.”
Zak waited as the last of the soldiers rode out the east gate. He could see beyond to the rolling plains and the green grass waving in the breeze, the purple haze of the barrier rippling to the far left. A dark, moving line marked the path of the mounted men as they galloped away. Zak stuck his finger in his mouth and gnawed on it, mulling over his brother’s explanation.
There was so much more to it than what Zane had said, but even when Zak had listened in on the adults’ conversation at the dinner table, much of it went over his head. But he wanted to learn. Needed to learn. How could he be like his brother if he didn’t know everything that Zane did?
He removed his finger and shifted against the fence. “The barrier is good, right? There’s bad guys on the other side.” He waved in the direction the soldiers went. “That is bad, but what is north is worse. Right?”
“Right.” Zane pushed away from the fence and motioned for Zak follow as he turned toward the city. He waited for Zak to reach his side before he started walking, his long stride shortened to allow Zak to keep pace. “There are the Cursed and Elph on the other side of the barrier, and we need that barrier to protect us until we can come up with a way to defeat them.”
Curiosity pricked Zak’s brain at the vaguely familiar word. “Elph?”
“Elph aren’t as well-known as they used to be, now that the barrier is up.” Zane slipped his hands in his pockets and shrugged even as he used his forearm to brace the hilt of his sword as he walked. “They were once a race of great men, rumored to even be Sons and Daughters of the Author himself. They have the gift, or curse, depending on your perspective, of never growing old. They have some sort of blood-bond between themselves and the men living up north. The only other Elph kingdom I know of is Antius, which is south of us, and not a threat. They keep to themselves for the most part.”
“Elph? In the south?” Panic froze Zak’s feet for a heartbeat, while his momentum kept him moving. His boot caught the edge of a cobblestone and he flailed. Zane grabbed Zak’s upper arm above the cast to prevent him from crashing face-first into the street. “Aren’t we in danger, then?”
“Not at all.” Zane released Zak’s arm and patted him on the back. “Like I said, they keep to themselves and have even aided us in the first war against the north. Once the barrier went up, they retreated within their borders, but they’ve been allies with our southern kingdoms ever since.”
Zak shuddered. We trust them? He noticed a group of girls staring at his brother, and he wrinkled his nose as they batted their eyelashes and shifted where they stood. Zane smiled politely and nodded to them as he walked past, not breaking his stride. Zak followed closely behind, flinching away when the girls exploded into giggles and gasps. Ick.
Zane spoke again. “You know the barrier is a time spell, so any person or animal or thing that goes into it dies and withers away.” He fluttered his hand as he spoke, then stopped and glared down at Zak, rendering Zak’s knees to jelly at the intensity of the stare. Zane spoke slowly, enunciating each word. “It is incredibly dangerous. Do not play around it or go near it. It’s powerful, and all that protects this land from the Cursed and becoming mindless slaves for them. You’ll see it for yourself when you’re older. Until then, don’t even dream about going near it.”
Zak gulped and nodded. “Yessir
.”
Zane’s shoulder relaxed, and his eyes softened as he rested his hand on Zak’s shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “I want you to be safe. If you were to play by the barrier, it could touch you, and you’d die. I’m not going to lose you from some stupid accident.”
The line between Zane’s eyes along with his serious tone clearly spoke of Zane’s “warrior mode.” Zak straightened and committed his brother’s words to memory. Not a mission, but an order to obey. “I know. And our family protects the keystone and barrier. Someday I’ll need to be by it.”
“You’re right. But that will be when you’re trained, and you’re older. Other kingdoms guard their keystones that are scattered along the edges of southern Terrene, and they all link with ours to create the circle we live in. If one keystone were to be damaged, the whole thing would fall. Our family excels at subterfuge, stealth, and combat. That’s why we’re the only noble family who has a role in the kingdom without being required to be fully active in the day-to-day of royal court. We’re involved in security, and that’s more than enough.” An odd expression crossed Zane’s face as he mentioned the royal court, but it disappeared as he looked at Zak. “Our purpose, our job, is to protect the keystone at all costs. Even if it means our lives.”
Zak sucked in a breath in excitement. “I can’t wait to train and to be able to fight!” He punched the air in mimicry of Zane sparring, then glanced over in the direction that the soldiers had gone. Brick buildings blocked the view of men who were probably long gone by now.
Zane thumped lightly against Zak’s cast. “This is why you need to be more careful. Monomi are Guardians. And it’s hard to be a Guardian or protector of anything with a broken arm or any other injury. Once this is off, we’ll start you with one-on-one sword training with Corporal Matthias before you join the contingent. Maybe you can even start training sooner as an errand boy or something.”
Zak whooped and Zane held up a hand to recapture his attention. “Yes, it’s good to practice and train to fight and be prepared. But I pray that you’ll have peaceful, boring days. That you’ll never have to see battle or anything like it. It’s terrible.” Zane’s green eyes shadowed with sorrow. “Don’t seek for trouble, little brother. It’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.”
Chapter Five
Clara
Clara Benning heard murmuring the moment she entered the humid palace kitchen. Three cooks stood along the far side of a long counter, all in various quasi states of busyness while they gossiped, oblivious to her presence. Two open windows above the wall of sinks let in a whisper of a cool breeze, but the warmth of the ovens prevailed, making Clara’s loose blouse cling to her like she’d just finished a round of training with Andre. She’s come to hunt for a snack for Lady Sapphire.
“I heard he was mad,” Rissa stated.
Aren, the plump royal baker whom Sapphire had befriended on her first day in the palace, slapped a hand against a mound of dough, sending flour billowing up in white clouds. “I heard he sulked at the bar before he left.”
“Well, I heard—”
Amusement warred with annoyance, and Clara rolled her eyes. She didn’t care if the kitchen staff didn’t like her poking about their territory in the palace, snitching food while they prepared their creations for the royal family and all who worked here. That was their job. It was her job to be Lady Sapphire’s handmaiden, body guard, and—it really wasn’t work for her—friend. If they wanted her to ask permission first, she would, but she’d use this as a reminder to them about exercising caution of what they say. What if it were Prince Richard who’d come in? He wasn’t exactly jovial in his personality these days.
Their voices covered her quiet steps until she was just behind the trio. She waited patiently until Cleveris paused in his cutting, then she leaned forward. “Who are we hearing things about?”
Cleveris jumped and half-turned, knife raised as he blinked at her owlishly. One cook gasped while the other loosed a small shriek. Cleveris lowered the knife and pressed the back of his wrist against his chest, keeping his hand clean. “Mistress Clara! How—when—” he stammered. “You startled us. How can we help you?”
A small, unladylike snort burst out of Clara, and she chuckled despite herself. “I’m not surprised. You three looked to be thick as thieves. Who are you talking about?” She plucked an apple from a basket in the middle of the counter and hefted it with a raised eyebrow at Rissa. The head chef nodded permission and Clara buffed the yellow-and-pink fruit against her skirt and cocked an eyebrow at Cleveris.
“Oh.” Cleveris grinned sheepishly before turning back to the long wooden counter. “Captain Stevens’s lieutenant.”
Brandon had shared with Sapphire during dinner the news about Captain Stevens’s new lieutenant, and Sapphire’s excitement for her friend had helped to reduce the sting of Prince Richard’s order. Clara’s eyes narrowed. “Cole Harris?”
“That’s him.” Aren turned back to the mound of dough at her workstation and kneaded it with her open hands, looking over her shoulder at Clara, who took a bite of apple. “You did hear about the orders, right?”
Clara swiped at a dribble of juice on her chin and nodded. She knew the order was supposed to be in the dark for as long as possible, and with the delivery of Adeline the very same afternoon, they’d succeeded in keeping the news quiet for awhile. But the soldiers preparing for the mission weren’t subtle, and ripples of the news reached the common people at the same time as the men were leaving. And with how gossip traveled in the palace, who hadn’t heard of the orders would be a better question.
“The lieutenant was upset about it,” Aren confided with a conspiratorial whisper.
“Well, I think it’s about time.” Cleveris gestured with his cleaver at the pile of cubed meat in front of him. “Selvage should be destroyed. Down to the last bits of foundation.” He glanced back at Clara, hard lines giving his eyes a weathered, angry look. “Everyone knows that Reformers come from Selvage.”
Clara pressed her lips together, staying her tongue. Plenty of good families came from Selvage too. Just like Andridge back home, both good and bad could come from a city.
“No.” Rissa’s tone suggested that this wasn’t a new topic between them. “Some Reformers come from Selvage, of course, but Reformers come from all over the country!” She touched a hand against Clara’s arm to guide her to the side, then pulled out a large pot from under the counter. “Those poor people. They have the right to be angry about the boundary line. That changed so much for the farmers and for the generations of families who’ve lived there.”
“A right to be angry. Not to be rebels,” Aren clarified.
“Well, of course. Think of what those rebels did to poor Prince Brandon. That was utterly inexcusable.” Rissa thunked a second pot next to the first one on the stove, then turned to shake a finger at Aren. “They made the wrong choice, but that doesn’t mean wiping everyone out!”
Clara crossed her arms and leaned back against the counter. The rebels in Selvage had a more legitimate reason than most for being perturbed, but the slight that they touted was nearly sixty years old. Eventually, they’d have to accept the change and live peacefully. She could never condone any action that would hurt others for selfish gain, and yet so many in Selvage did exactly that.
What they were doing now was the equivalent of a temper tantrum, albeit a deadly one. And unlike Prince Brandon and Andre, not all who were caught in the throes of their conniption survived. Her heart skipped a beat at the memory of that particularly harrowing close call. It was good that she had been at the palace with Lady Sapphire, but oh, how she longed to give those rebels a peace of her mind—preferably at the end of her blade.
Clara leaned against the counter to allow one of the kitchen staff to pass between her and the bickering trio. He glanced sideways at the three and shook his head when Rissa exclaimed, “Murder is not the answer, Void-for-brains!”
Turning the apple core in her hand, Clara sighed. Ev
en now, no one could explain how the rebels knew of that secret meeting. It couldn’t possibly be a leak from the palace. Few had known of the parlay before it had occurred.
Her nimble fingers paused, then continued.
It had to be on Selvage’s end. Elder Sahvan and his supporters were slaughtered in the surprise attack, so it was impossible to know if the traitor was really on their end—let alone alive or dead—at this point. But if the leak was from here, then Stevens and his men could be walking into an ambush.
She snapped her head back and forth to dislodge the thought; she’d come to the kitchen for a reason. She could consider conspiracy later. Cleveris must have noticed her movement as she tucked a golden curl behind her ear, because he broke away from the argument with an abashed smile.
“I’m sorry. You came down here for a reason. What can we get for you?”
Clara tossed her apple core in the large compost bucket by the door. “Lady Sapphire requested anything chocolate, so long as we don’t tattle on her to Doctor Jaxton.”
Aren laughed. “Sneaking around the doctor’s orders? Shame.” She winked and gestured a lily-white hand to the same quiet man who’d passed Clara earlier. “Bodrick. Find some of those chocolate rolls I made earlier? And add a glass of milk, so we can claim it’s a healthy snack and appease the doctor.”
“Thank you.” Clara smiled, pleased she didn’t have to bully someone for something chocolate. “She’ll appreciate it.”
Aren winked and put her hands on her wide hips, spreading white flour across her apron. “Anything for her ladyship. Just say the word.”
Clara deftly took the loaded tray out of Bodrick’s hands and nodded her thanks. Her smile slipped away as she left the kitchen. Lieutenant Harris, Reformers, and a possible spy. She would need to talk to Andre about all of it later and get his read on the situation. If there was anything that would endanger her charges, she would put an end to it. Immediately.
