The Rogue Trilogy

by Elizabeth Carlton

  “You have returned! And what intriguing company you bring…” She motioned with her hands for Levee and Jaycent to walk deeper into their cozy dwelling. “Come in, come in, my rahenyan friends! Our house is yours for as long as you like.”

  Their stomachs rumbled thundering pleas for a taste of what Tobi’s mate was cooking. Rain quickly brought a fresh loaf to the table along with a knife. “Go ahead and eat, all of you. If the road to Bresan T’ahnya is anything like Tobiano says, you must be famished. The soup is almost done.”

  Tobiano took it upon himself to pour each of them a goblet full of fresh water before cutting them each a slice of bread. The graciousness of these people made Levee miss the Kasateno family that had become her own through the years.

  She tried not to fear for Milo and his mother, knowing the resourceful Sarrokian was likely one step ahead of the chaos ensuing back home. She had to have faith in her dear friend. Milo wouldn’t want her to think any other way.

  “So what exactly happened back in the cavern?” Jaycent finally asked after he swallowed a few hearty bites of bread.

  Tobiano cut another slice and put it on Jaycent’s plate, the edges of his bright green eyes crinkling into joyful lines. He tugged on his kunah—a necklace all male horse folk wore as a symbol of their clan and, once chosen, their mate. From a leather string hung a feather which Jaycent guessed represented Rain, alongside a pearlescent shell shaped like a miniature conk. Levee stopped chewing when she recognized the shard as the tip of a unicorn’s horn.

  “T’is the source of my clan name, Lightning Dancer,” Tobiano cradled the tip in his hand as he ran his fingers across its smooth surface. “Long ago, when the underworld and the surface had yet to draw its lines, an elemental unicorn gave its life for the protection of my clan against a band of night mares.

  “Its horn was shattered in the fight, and we were quick to gather the pieces so nothing could corrupt the power of the fallen creature. To this day, my kin remain protectors of the power encapsulated inside of each one.”

  He clasped his palm around the piece and shook his fist angrily. “This is what your enemy—Shadow—wields. It is what the re’shahna were born to protect. Unicorn magic is limitless, which is why only the pure of heart are ever gifted it. But he, as I am sure you know, is not.”

  Jaycent rubbed his scruffy goatee. “What I do not understand is why Shadow is hunting me?” he inquired.

  Tobi rolled the horn tip between his fingers. “You do not understand because you do not know the whole story.” He leaned back on the bench, his brows furrowed in concern. “I admit, I did not bring you here simply because you asked. Patchi spoke of you both, and when I saw you camped near my vigil I wanted to help. My people can teach you how to wield the gifts you possess. With much training and luck, we can help you find the strength to defeat this powerful foe.”

  Jaycent chuckled. “All of this seems like a dream.”

  Tobiano laughed as well. “This coming from a dreamer. Tell me, friend, for I am curious. Where did a name like Connor come from?”

  The prince’s eyes slid to his hands which were folded neatly on the table. He sensed Tobi knew the answers and was spoon feeding them to him through questions.

  “The Connor heritage is full of secrecy,” the prince confessed. “I was told our surname was really the first name of our family’s patriarch.”

  “Connor Clovenhoof,” Tobi guessed. Jaycent nodded, and the re’shahna slipped from the table to sort through a shelf of books until he found a tattered leather journal. He handed it to the prince. “I imagine this will help fill in many gaps. Your ancestors were re’shahna. They led the rahee out of our city after a disagreement with the Thunderhoof clan over the cause of the Great Tragedy.

  “This book fell into the possession of my great-great-great-great grandfather, Speck Lightning Dancer. T’is Connor Clovenhoof’s journal.”

  Jaycent’s hand hovered over the cover, afraid to touch the fragile pages. The re’shahna leaned in closer, intent on holding the prince’s attention. His black and white mane slid like a patch over one eye, and he poked the prince’s chest in emphasis. “T’was Connor Clovenhoof who stole his victory over Bresan T’ahnya. Now Shadow, ever-vengeful, seeks a new kingdom; one that belongs to the descendant of the dreamer that defeated him.”

  “What?” The prince’s eyes doubled in size.

  Tobiano nodded. “My guess is your true surname was kept secret for your family’s safety. Your enemy is an illusionist both strengthened and limited by the realm of shadow. Now returned, he will want to kill those whom he blames for him becoming the monster he is today.”

  A couple of days ago, Jaycent would have walked away from Tobiano, convinced he was a fool lost in his own mythology. Too much had happened between now and then, though. His eyes had seen too many things to ignore the surreal reality he had been cast into.

  “But I am not Connor,” Jaycent stated. “I share nothing with my ancestor beyond his name. What satisfaction could this Shadow… thing find in killing me and taking my kingdom?”

  Tobi casually sliced the rest of the bread and distributed the pieces among them, saving two for his mate. “That you will learn in time, Connor Prince.”

  “Aye. Right now you just focus on filling your belly,” Rain’s soothing voice broke the gravity of their conversation as she set steaming bowls in front of their guests.

  Patience wasn’t one of Jaycent’s virtues, but the sight of a hearty meal staved any protests. Their conversation dissipated for a while as the four enjoyed a savory dinner. Tobi watched the prince’s eyes stray from his bowl to the journal beside him several times throughout the meal.

  “Open it,” the re’shahna encouraged between bites. “The book has been enchanted against age and rot. It looks the same as the day it was inherited by my great-great-great—

  “Great grandfather,” Levee and Rain finished for him. Tobi winked, and Jaycent slowly opened the cover. On the first page was a unicorn much like Diego with a strong, lean frame and a thick mane.

  “That stallion’s name is Echeron,” Tobi explained. “Connor was paired with him by Skalabur in honor of the bond between re’shahna and unicorn. It is the same with you and Diego.”

  The prince rested his forehead in his hand. For years, Jaycent had felt like a wanderer, not knowing his place or purpose. But there was something about these stories that roused an inexplicable connection between himself and this mysterious ancestor.

  “Thank you,” the prince left it at that, afraid that if he spoke any more he’d lose himself to the wave of emotions stirring in his chest. Tobi rose from the table, squeezed the prince’s shoulder, and left with Rain so Jaycent could have the solitude he knew the young prince needed.

  “Your Highness…” Levee’s hand rested against his hair. Jaycent knew she wanted to comfort him, but it was all too overwhelming to bear.

  He rose abruptly to his feet. “I need to take a walk.”

  Book in hand, the tall rahee ducked through the door, careful not to let the gypsy see his face. He brushed past their hosts and trotted down stone steps toward the heart of the valley.

  Levee slumped, arms crossed on the table with her chin rested between them. Rain’s long silver hair pooled against the table as she took a seat next to Levee, her arm draped soothingly over the gypsy’s shoulders. “He will come back,” she whispered. “Just give him time.”

  Tobi slid back inside and scratched his back against the edge of the doorway. He winked at Levee, his optimism still present in spite of Jaycent’s emotional response. “Be patient, little gypsy. T’is a scary journey to find oneself, and your prince is just getting started.”

  Bresan T’ahnya

  Jaycent walked alone among the houses dotting the valley floor, the leather journal of his patriarch tucked protectively at his side. He tried to remain calm, but even he couldn’t tame the emotions that had broken free inside of him.

  Needing to be alone, Jaycent’s blue eyes scanned t
he broken stone streets for a means of escape. He wove through the maze of houses until a field opened up in front of him, its long grass skirting the broken remains of what looked to be an ancient cathedral. Jaycent’s feet began to move as if some unseen force reeled him closer to the quiet ruins and its skyward arches.

  Gradually, his stride grew longer, his steps quicker, until he couldn’t hold back anymore. Jaycent felt the emotionless wall that had held him together for so many years start to crumble into chunks, tumbling down until its cascading pieces overtook him like the debris of an avalanche.

  He ran, his long legs carrying him through the open grass. The rhythm of his breaths echoed the beat of his boots, but no matter how swiftly he moved, he couldn’t outrun the unraveling inside of him. Jaycent’s chest tightened as the crack in his hardened heart split open and spread.

  Crumbling archways, home only to the birds that made nests inside their hollow windows, stood like a beacon up ahead. He ran to the first lonely pillar and nearly collapsed into its support. Digging his fingers between the decaying bricks, Jaycent stubbornly fought against the emotional tidal wave surging inside of him. Teeth gritted together, he pressed his forehead against the column’s surface, growling away his feelings.

  But resilience wouldn’t work this time. Like a caged lion set free, the prince’s heart roared to be heard; to be felt; to be acknowledged. He slammed his fist against the column before shoving himself away from its passive stone. Inside the four ornate arches stood an open courtyard with a quaint round well, its water swelled to the brim from the recent storms. The prince stumbled over to its edge and studied his panting reflection.

  It was an ugly sight. The dark bruises formed from many long months of haunted sleep had grown deeper beneath his eyes. What used to be a healthy face had been whittled down until his high-set cheeks stood out. Combined with the untamed scruff that stole all the elegance from his features, Jaycent felt more like a haggard wanderer than a prince.

  “Who am I?” he begged of his reflection. With hands still scabbed from their trek through the mountain, the prince tore the silver circlet from his brow. Its surface appeared dull under layers of dirt, blood and grime. “Certainly not this!” He tossed the ornament far into the tall grass with a grunt.

  Tucking the journal under his arm, Jaycent thrust his hands into the clean mountain water and scrubbed his face. Dirt riddled droplets swept the grime from his skin, but it did little to uncover his former self. The face he used to know bore a different story these days. One wrapped up in a world of troubles.

  Like his reflection, everything was changing, from Nevaharday’s welfare to the very beliefs he’d been instilled with. Bresan T’ahnya and magic were things of the past to Nevahardans; mere stories told to entertain and scare little children. Now he was standing inside a legend while being told that those stories were real, and that he was a part of it.

  “Is this a joke of the gods?” He looked up at the bright blue sky and held his arms out wide, presenting himself to the powers that be. “Are you laughing yet?” he accused with a shake of his fist.

  Jaycent gave into a bitter laugh and dropped his arms to his sides. Bresan T’ahnya and its people may be real, but whatever truth it could bring seemed in vain. His city would scoff at the idea of some fabled illusionist threatening their lives, and the word of the tribes would be useless. His people would view them as superstitious and uncivilized; a dying culture in an expanding realm based on trade and commerce. The prince would be named a fool if he asked his people to trust them.

  Or worse, a gypsy.

  Jaycent snorted at the thought. He considered Levee. Few would give her words any credence if they knew her background. Yet things Jaycent was only beginning to grasp, Levee understood like they were second nature. It was ironic, but a gypsy had become his most trusted advisor.

  Or was she more to him than that? The prince’s mind strayed back to the night where she stood beside him on the balcony, dressed like nobility, her attention fixed on the one companion that made Jaycent’s heart beat with purpose.

  Before then, Diego had been the only one who could see through the prince’s grand façade. Yet from day one, Levee was able to look beyond his mask and the lies that comprised his royal persona. Jaycent felt it every time he looked into those emerald eyes. The way she gazed at him; the way she spoke to him; it unveiled his soul in a way that made Jaycent feel real.

  Thus far, he had managed to suppress his own feelings, convincing himself his interest in Levee resided in her usefulness and nothing more. But the truth behind his heart was becoming painfully evident the farther they strayed from Nevaharday.

  Away from the nobility’s scrutiny, Jaycent didn’t set himself apart from his company. He couldn’t. In Bresan T’ahnya, there were no subjects or kings. Only a tribe of long forgotten people whom he had the growing suspicion understood the world a lot better than he did.

  “Everything is changing,” the prince muttered, his words lost in the breeze that swept through the arches. He could no longer view the world through the same narrow mindset. This land was larger than his realm, his enemy’s magic was stronger than swords and arrows, and his heart… well. It had finally outgrown its tight bonds.

  The tides were turning. The future of Nevaharday would be changing, and it was time he changed with it. Jaycent knew these were dangerous thoughts, but he could not deny what stood in front of him. The broken archways of this lonesome courtyard testified to a past his people had foolishly forgotten.

  Then there was Levee, who had followed him so far from home. How he had ignored the tugs of her compassion! Its pull aroused desires to which he’d never before succumbed. What he felt for her expanded beyond the desires of flesh. He wanted to know her the way she seemed to know him.

  The prince rested his back against the well and slid down its wall until his legs lay sprawled across the wild grass. He fanned through the pages of his ancestor’s journal as another wave of emotion rushed over him, stealing his breath.

  “You’re growing soft, Jaycent,” he scolded himself.

  “Talking to yourself again, Your Highness?”

  Her voice stirred a flutter inside his stomach. Jaycent looked up from his refuge, surprised to see Levee standing above him. Just like that night on the balcony, the gypsy arrived with perfect timing, as if she knew just when to save the prince from himself.

  Levee rested her hip against the well’s edge. “If you want to be alone, then just say the word. But when Rain and I heard you cry out, we thought it best to check on you.”

  The prince leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “I cannot tell if I want to be alone or if I am afraid to be. There is little I am certain of anymore.”

  Levee had no words to offer him. If there were answers, she didn’t know them, and the gypsy wouldn’t pretend to. But there was an unspoken plea inside his brief reply that didn’t slip past her. She lowered herself onto the grass beside him, their elbows brushing together as they shared the heavy silence.

  Jaycent held up the coin hanging on a band around his neck and watched as it spun back and forth. A gift from his father, the prince’s kunah held the unicorn bust that marked him as a member of the Connor family, or so he thought.

  “When I was a child,” Levee had to raise her ears to catch his quiet words, “my father told me we wore this symbol because our family had a history of bonding with regal unicorns.”

  The gypsy reached out and stilled the coin’s spinning dance so that the unicorn’s head faced them. “I suppose that describes you well enough.”

  “Does it?” he questioned.

  Levee rolled to her knees so she sat in front of Jaycent and seized the coin from his hand. “This, my prince, is just a coin. It only holds meaning if you give it one,” she let it fall to his chest, her stern eyes pinned to his gaze. “You think you must fit the role others have laid out for you. That is the lie you need to conquer. Who you are and who you will become is a destiny of your own desig
n.

  “Seek your answers where you will, but do not let others define you,” Levee leaned in closer and tapped his chest with her finger. “Who you are dwells somewhere inside of there, but you must search your heart to find him.”

  Jaycent laced his fingers over the slender hand on his chest, her words filling his heart like sand in an empty glass. A choice… he had a choice. The prince allowed the invitation to sink in. Then, with what could only be described as a passion fed whim, he set the book aside and pulled the gypsy closer.

  “If that is the case then would you do me one favor?”

  Levee’s assertiveness fled, caught off guard by His Highness’s sudden nearness. He cupped his hand over her cheek, his thumb trailing lightly across it and scattering her thoughts like a school of fish. Levee opened her mouth in search of her voice, but could only manage a nod.

  Jaycent’s pale blue eyes trailed down her freckled cheeks until they found a pair of soft red lips. “Stop addressing me by my title,” he whispered. The gypsy’s mouth quivered as she felt his breath tickle her nose. “My name is Jaycent.”

  Before she could speak, the prince leaned forward, his mouth joining hers in a caress so gentle, so honest, that words felt irrelevant. Levee’s fingers curled around the thick cloth of his cotton tunic, afraid that if she didn’t hold fast she’d simply float away.

  It was only one brief kiss, but it felt as if time itself stood still while the rest of the world drifted from their awareness. They lingered in the moment, their foreheads touching as they tried to come to grips with the unspoken connection between them.

  “Levee? Did you find him?” a voice tore the pair away from each other, and the gypsy rose to her feet.

  “Over here, Rain. He’s okay,” leaning over the prince, she winked and offered her hand. “Ready to head back?”

  Jaycent reached up and clasped her palm, a genuine smile on his lips. “If we must.”

  When Rain joined them, she looked around at the broken archways. “I see you discovered Tennakawa’s old cathedral.”