Maya bit her lip, considering Yvonne’s words for a moment, before finally nodding.
“What’s going on?” Renne said, taking advantage of the pause. “I came to see you practicing and instead you’re talking about killing?”
“Your dear Maya had some issues with it. I simply encouraged her not to be ashamed of it.”
“Ashamed?” Renne gave them both a wan smile. “If it makes you feel any better, I feel ashamed sometimes. Of how much I want to fight, to take someone else’s life. But at the same time… not enough to stop it.”
“Thanks,” Maya said, smiling. “It does help a little.” He watched in fascination as Maya picked up the plain wooden bow on the floor and drew back a crackling string of lightning before releasing a vicious bolt towards the hapless target in front, leaving a scorch mark where the lightning struck. “I can do this. I can fucking do this.”
She sent more magical arrows at her target, varying the type of magic sent. Lightning. Fire. Ice. Arcane. She also tried wind and rock, but not with as much effectiveness as the others. Yvonne got Artur to hurry along and record everything Maya did, trying to discern what sort of magic she used and work out the most effective one.
Ice didn’t seem to do much damage beyond a standard arrow. “I’m sure we’ll find more use for it,” Artur said in his wheezing voice, hand quivering in excitement as he attempted to write down all the information. Lightning arced along targets and looked good for damaging multiple enemies at once, but seemed more likely to stun them. Not that anyone wanted to stand in the way of a lightning strike, but Artur theorized it’d be better for mass crowd control.
Fire proved great for piercing through targets in a row, since it punched right through the target, and several trees beyond that target as well. As for arcane… it caused a magical explosion upon impact, and a shockwave that knocked over Yvonne, who fell on the ground, laughing wildly.
“That’s my girl!” Yvonne grinned, and Renne grinned as well. He couldn’t quite control the exhilaration welling inside him and knew it infected Maya as well. “Who’s a good little shooter? Yes you are!”
“I can confirm that the arcane is the most devastating for unfortunate enemies to come into contact with,” Artur said, his pen flying across parchment. “I would advise not using it when allies are nearby, though. Long distance and straight into a mass of enemy troops only. Perhaps less effective in the air. But my, my, what a talented woman you are. Yes… I think you’ll be a new category altogether. Yes yes...” Artur tottered away, clutching his notes as if they were a newborn child. Renne watched Maya with pride in his heart. To think not so long ago, she had no clue about her magic at all, and now… she glibly shot her arrows, standing tall like a warrior, calm and poised as she sent off death and destruction.
His pride and excitement trickled into something else. A memory of that desire. As soon as he began to feel it, Maya stopped her magic completely and gave him an unimpressed look. “You know, that’s going to be incredibly distracting if you’re going to stand there and lech at me.”
“What?” He held up his hands defensively. “I’m not doing anything of the sort!”
Under Yvonne’s curious gaze, Maya strolled closer to Renne, and gestured for him to bend down, so she could whisper in his ear. “I know you felt what I did last night.”
The words sent a delicious jolt through his system, enough for him to suddenly become concerned that he’d get aroused, and worse, have said arousal be on public display. “You seemed pretty eager to get me out of there,” he said.
“You were eager to get out yourself.”
“Why are you doing this?”
She paused. “I don’t know.” Brushing past him, she stalked back to Yvonne, who had a most evil smile upon her face.
“Is it just me, or is it getting hot in here?” Yvonne asked.
“Die in a fire,” came the prince’s response.
General Witslaw looked out over Bastion’s battlements. The defensive outer walls could hold up to most attacks because they were too high for conventional siege weapons to hurtle boulders and fire rags over, which was part of the reason it was such a perfect fortress. It was one of the wonders of the world – built over four hundred years ago by a rich and paranoid unicirim prince who wanted only to worry about attacks from the air. Renne knew some of his family’s history, but there were still gaping pieces of knowledge in his head – since most of the history had been documented in the royal castle of River’s End. Artur bored him to sleep when he tried to talk about it.
Beatrice stood with Witslaw , and the way she held herself upright now reminded Renne of all those years ago, when he shivered on a cold shoreline, and they looked out to sea for rescue. He remembered just being talked to by his father after a family dinner because his father’s wife had been tipsy and rather vocal that evening about Renne’s impure blood, how he shouldn’t even be here with the other children, that he’d rub his Zorin nature off on them.
Whatever Zorin nature was supposed to mean. Father had told him not to worry. That everyone said bad things about the Zorin people, but Renne’s own mother had been a wonderful person in her own right, and he shouldn’t be ashamed of his blood.
It had gone so fast. Settling down for bed one moment, then general Witslaw bursting into his bedroom, telling him to dress, to come and make his way to the secret exit in the kitchens. One of the servants came clutching baby Tara and Janus, and Callum sniveled and complained about being woken up. He stopped complaining soon enough once the gravity of the situation dawned upon him.
Once Callum, Tara, and Janus arrived on the battlements, trailed by their honor guards, Witslaw began to speak. “This city could be a good place to proclaim the instigation of the royal bloodline again,” Witslaw said, turning to face them. “It’s the second biggest city in Albalon and far more defensible than River’s End. It has a rich history from where all the sons and daughters of the non-ruling royals went. Give it time and it could become something grander than what even River’s End might accomplish.”
“But River’s End is where our family has ruled since forever,” Tara said, frowning. Her hands rested upon the twin dirks tucked into her belt on other side. “Setting up another royal city would surely split Albalon in two.”
Now Beatrice spoke. “People need a symbol to fall behind. A place to rally. If we make it official that Bastion is our city, if we have a king… we could triple our troops within a few years.”
Anxiety wriggled inside Renne. King. They wanted to announce a king. Which meant Renne or Callum. They’d have to have the discussion, put the favored king up to vote, even though it should have been Renne. Callum seemed to share similar sentiments.
Glancing towards Renne, Callum said, “I’m not sure it’d be wise to announce a king here. It might end up causing division. I’m aware there is some scrutiny towards my older brother, and as he is not yet married, there will be more outcries. I’d rather not risk any more contention then there should be, or to put any pressure on his Bonded.”
By the look of Beatrice’s expression, it seemed she hadn’t considered the issue of Maya, which suggested to Renne that Beatrice did want to push forward a challenge for kingship, precisely so Callum could make it. She’d always been rather cold towards Renne.
“It’s a point,” Witslaw said to his wife. “We don’t want to put pressure on that girl. She could be a great weapon, and if we risk heaping ire on them both because of this… perhaps just make the announcement that the royals are here. Advertise our cause instead.”
The older woman closed her eyes for a moment. “Yes. I understand. I think there’s still an advantage to be had with establishing a king. But… yes.”
That’s how they see her, Renne thought with rising fury as they continued to discuss the potential fate of their kingdom. A weapon. Like I did… Guilt mixed with the anger, and the indignation of how they so casually piled their expectations on Maya.
She owed them nothing. Yet they e
xpected everything from her, probably even her life. It was different for him – he’d been raised with the expectation of giving everything to this upcoming war, to reclaiming the home of their ancestors. He had a righteous cause, a good, solid claim, and a thirst for vengeance against those beasts that took over.
“If she’s as powerful as you think,” Beatrice continued, but there was a tiny, condescending sneer of doubt in her tone, “then we should be prioritizing finding Bonded for the other three, finding more unicirim who escaped and establishing their connections as well.”
“I’m considering it,” Witslaw said. “But I think it’d be like chasing rainbows. True connections are incredibly rare – most unicirim end up with someone they love and have an incomplete Bond because of it. It’s not about love. It’s about something deeper, wilder, and beyond our understanding. It’s too much of an unknown.”
“Finding unicirim is probably easier,” Janus pointed out. “I’d like to have slightly more than just the four of us here. I mean, there has to be hundreds, thousands of dragons. Even if we triple our armies, they’d rout us. One dragon could destroy hundreds of ground troops if we’re caught unawares – if our witches aren’t around to stop the flames.”
A rather glum mood settled over the others at Janus’ announcement. Renne privately agreed but didn’t plan to stir the pot. If they wanted to advance, they needed to wait. They didn’t have nearly enough to take on the dragons, even if his siblings miraculously found their Bonded. They didn’t have enough witches, resources, troops, anything. Some people in Albalon were quite comfortable with the serpents ruling. It allowed them to pillage, rape, destroy with impunity. Criminals loved dragons.
Finally, Witslaw nodded. “I’ll pass it to my generals. We’ll start heavy on the recruitment drive, prepare ourselves for possible aerial attacks. Feed up the city, make them love us. No coronation.”
Their little discussion broke up with general agreement, and Tara sauntered over to Renne afterwards. “That had to be awkward for you. I’m guessing Beatrice still doesn’t like you.”
“You think?” Renne walked down towards the streets with her with Janus trailing directly behind. Callum stayed with Witslaw and Beatrice, probably to argue about how they were acting towards Renne. Callum was a good brother, in all honesty… and that was why Renne felt even angrier towards him. No wonder he’d make a good king.
“I think you’d be a good king,” Tara persisted bullishly. “You’re hard working, always doing what’s needed, willing to fight for your people… I was proud of you when we were attacked in the camp. You refused to abandon your men even though they wanted us to fly to safety.”
“Thanks, little sister.” Renne afforded her a small smile. “I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t seem willing to leave, either.”
“That’s because all my brothers are stupid,” Tara said. “Good people, but stupid.”
“Perhaps they should make you queen instead.”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that to Janus. He’d be so jealous forever.”
“Hey!” Janus made to swipe at his sister. She dodged the blow, grinning exuberantly.
They walked through the streets, honor guards walking a short distance behind. Renne figured he should choose proper guards himself, but for now, he had whoever Witslaw assigned to him. But a true honor guard… that meant knowing their names, their lives. Knowing why they’d die for him and trusting them beyond all other people. One of Tara’s honor guards was a tall, broad shouldered woman in slate gray armor – taller than most of the men. He still didn’t know much about the woman other than the fact he probably didn’t want to meet her in a dark alley at night.
Some people bowed to them in the streets, others had a quiet, sullen rage about them. People who might cause trouble if push came to pull.
Just before they reached the grounds of the central castle, Tara pulled him aside. “I want you to know something, brother. Whatever you’ve got with that Maya – make it work if you can. She’s a good woman. Don’t turn her into an object like Witslaw and Beatrice want. Give her a reason to want to stay.”
Reason to stay? To Renne, it sounded awfully like Tara wanted him to establish a relationship with Maya. Instead of just… letting the Bond do its thing, she wanted him to make an effort. “And… how do you suggest I do that?”
“Make her feel special. Make it about her and not about her magic. Get her gifts. Show her things. Do things. A date. Make time to spend together with just the two of you. Unless you don’t want to get closer to her.”
“No, I, I do.” Although he didn’t trust his motives to be beyond any relation to the Bond. “You think I should… turn up with a gift?”
“Up to you.” She clapped him heartily on the shoulder before abandoning him to his fate.
Just great, he thought. Although the idea of… doing more with Maya other than admiring the way she shot arrows was definitely appealing. It might be nice to share something together, like… walking somewhere. Taking her to beautiful spots. Having more of that… heat in their connection rippling through.
Yes… he wouldn’t complain too much if that happened again.
Maya
“Selling wares! Selling magic! Come and get yourself a look at the charms on display!” The cries came from a portly werewolf, who had transformed into his feral form to get his voice to carry further. His stall, like the other ones in the bazaar, was open with a dark blue awning sheltering it from the weather. Many stalls sold food and clothes, but the werewolf sold what appeared to be a collection of trinkets, beads, and necklaces that looked low quality. The kind of things Maya would have gotten in a carnival or local shop back home where people swore blind that their stones brought good luck, love, and encouraged prosperity.
If they were so prosperous then they probably wouldn’t be selling crappy gems in a hack store. However, Maya sidled over to peer at the objects anyway, not really sure if she wanted to get anything. Mostly, she wanted new, practical clothes that didn’t make her look like some maid fetish because the formal servant’s clothes were far too fancy and made her feel vulnerable. They also required several layers of effort to put on. She wanted something comfortable – but the fashion of Albalon was nowhere near the fashion of modern day earth.
She idly fingered the small bow she carried with her. She probably looked a sight, having a bow but no arrows to go with it.
“What type of magic do you sell?” Maya examined the fat werewolf who eyed her, probably trying to figure if she was vapid or switched on.
“Not my trinkets for you, I think,” he said, now ducking to some locked chests behind his stall, and fumbling through a large selection of iron keys. “You might want some more… hard magic.” He clipped open one chest, and an array of strange objects filled her vision. “I’ve got some enchanted items, courtesy of a very talented enchantress who lives by the coast. They’re a little more expensive than what I have on display here, but I’m sure they’ll be affordable to someone like yourself.”
Well, her outfit did denote her as someone from the castle and maybe he recognized her as the Bonded with Renne, though he made no note of that information. She had some money on her, but unlikely anything to the degree of what he planned to ask. “A real enchantress? I thought those were rare.” She didn’t know but that was what Artur and Yvonne said, and she wanted to sound informed.
“Yes, they’re greatly sought after. She only does small time enchantments because she can do them more regular,” he said. “Big time takes months, years to recover from, you know? See here. Little necklace. Makes you seem more confident.” He handled a wooden necklace with a faintly glowing gemstone in it with pride. “Great if you’re looking to get more influence with the right people. Confidence sells.”
“That’s not what I’m looking for,” Maya said, thinking fast, wondering if she’d have enough money, which they called lyres rather than cents or dollars, to get the kind of things she wanted, or whether she’d have to sneak more o
ut. “Do you have anything that can offer protection in a fight?”
“They’re big time, unfortunately,” he said with a grimace. “Most of my charms are to do with confidence, attraction… some enhance hearing and eyesight… perhaps that can help you in a fight?” He regarded her more keenly.
Attraction? She thought about wearing something like that, going up to Brandon in the real world with it, noting its effect on him. The thought of Brandon sent a sick wave of anger through her before it dissolved firmly into the image of Renne. Honestly, she hadn’t thought of Brandon in a while. The more she remembered him, the more she picked out things that weren’t quite right with their friendship, things she’d ignored in the past because of her fondness for him, but that now seemed glaringly obvious. Whereas Renne…
She probably didn’t need a charm for that, she thought with a shiver, and a jolt in her stomach. There was magic working between them regardless. “What about...” She bit her lip, searching her mind for what little she knew about the magic of this world. “A… waystone?”
The werewolf seller gave a bark of laughter. “That’s far beyond my produce, I’m afraid, little lady. However...” He stroked his furry chin thoughtfully. “I do have a ring that is able to detect weak spots between realms. It won’t give you access to them, but it will be possible with the right things to enter said realms. I wouldn’t know where to look for those.”
Her eyebrows shot upwards. A sudden idea had seized her. “If I had… an object that only worked in another realm… would this be usable in a weak spot?”
“Certainly,” he said, and her heart beat faster in anticipation. “That’s usually what people use the rings for, actually. We get all sorts of other realm items that serve no use otherwise.” He smiled. “Thirty golden lyres, and it’s all yours.”
The Last Unicirim’s Bride Page 10
