A woman of her word, Milo smiled. Never did Levee give up. Phenomenal was her resilience, even if she didn’t see it herself. A heroine among their people, she pushed through the final leg of her task and saved many lives.
As Velagran soldiers burst into the door of the general store, eager to find the source of their misfortune, Milo fought valiantly to defend the woman behind the counter. Weakness hung upon his body like an unwelcomed passenger. He fought against the lightheaded feeling that plagued his awareness and stepped forward, fully aware that this would not end well. Throwing what was left of his strength into the offensive, he incurred several wounds as he fended off those who managed to slip past the elven soldiers. With a fierce growl, he put his scimitars to work. Twin blades whistled in hurried parries until he found an opening that dropped his enemies at his feet.
Not a single Guardsman made it beyond Milo’s blade, but by the time Levee opened her eyes he was covered in blood, most of which was his own. Her mate pressed his hips against the counter, his lungs gasping for air as he struggled to hold himself upright.
Levee stumbled to her feet and scrambled to his side. “Milo? Milo!”
Patting his cheek, she called to him, trying to get his eyes to focus.
“Lev…” he croaked.
“Don’t you even think about dying here,” she protested. “You’re stronger than that, Milo.”
Her eyes swelled with tears as his head bobbed. He fought against it, clinging to consciousness as his confused gaze sought her face. “Don’t…” he choked on a raspy breath, then recovered, “Don’t worry… about me.”
She clung to his blood-soaked chest as he leaned his forehead against her hair. “Keep going,” he whispered. “This ain’t over yet.”
“No! No, I’m not leaving you here,” her voice shook with desperation, her eyes denying the paleness that was beginning to replace his tan skin.
A heavy hand rested clumsily on her cheek. She leaned into his touch. “Sadi… he needs ya,” he murmured. “Hell, Jaspur does, too.”
“I need you,” she insisted.
“I’ll be… right behind ya.”
She looked up at him. He smiled weakly. It quickly faded though as he fell limp inside her arms.
“No!” Levee screamed. Fingers scrambled against his clothing as she brought him in close again, clinging to his unconscious frame and listening for his heartbeat.
“Milo, you promised me,” she screamed. “You can’t leave. Not like this. Wake up!”
Hooves sounded behind the gypsy, but she didn’t notice. Wrought with grief, she clung to Milo’s still frame.
“Levee!” Deley rode Diego through the doorway and into the store, Siabra on his tail. The moment she realized what had happened, her heart dropped.
But they couldn’t stop. Their army had moved forward. Sadikaye and Jaspur should be near the castle by now. In a fight against Shadow, they would need the strongest of their allies.
“Levee,” Deley dismounted and cautiously grasped the gypsy’s shoulders.
“Help him…” she whispered. “Gods, please help him.”
Deley bit her lip as she looked upon Milo’s pale face. She was almost certain his spirit had left, yet she knew better than to say so.
“Go,” she urged. “Siabra can take you to the castle in time to meet with Sadikaye.”
Levee didn’t move.
“Levee, your son needs you,” Deley said more firmly. Slowly detaching her from Milo’s chest, she insisted, “I will take care of Milo. So long as I live, no enemy will touch him.”
Sniffling, Levee took a deep breath. Running a hand against Milo’s curls, she kissed him gently. “Do everything you can to save him,” she demanded of Deley, her face soaked with tears.
“I promise,” the half-elf whispered.
Nodding, Levee turned to Siabra. The mare bowed slightly, offering her back to Melah. The gypsy mounted swiftly and the elemental mare stomped a hoof. A tremor raced through the ground and into the wall, shattering it into dust.
With a “Hup!” from Levee, Siabra launched straight into a gallop, entering a back road as they embarked on the path up to the castle gates.
Deley then looked at the limp figure in her arms. Milo’s face was quiet, his eyes peacefully shut in spite of the viciousness of his wounds. The half-elf checked for breathing, then for the thinnest trace of a heartbeat, but there was nothing.
Milo was gone.
Shaking her head, she whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
She draped Milo’s body near the black stallion’s withers before mounting behind it, determined not to leave it behind to be desecrated.
* * * * *
Jaspur and Sadikaye moved swiftly, Patchi and Tobiano by their sides. Around them, the thunk of elven armor sounded unnervingly loud in the dark tunnels of the abandoned belly of the city, though surely it was nothing compared to the battle clashing above their heads.
None of them spoke. They had enough on their minds as they contemplated the task ahead. For Patchi and Jaspur, this felt like déjà vu. Their plan was essentially the same as it was eighteen years prior: to sneak onto castle grounds and find the enemy inside. The only difference was that they were equipped to defeat him this time.
Hopefully.
Jaspur and Sadikaye still had to find Shadow, who had barred himself somewhere inside of the castle. Patchi had received regular updates from his spies on the status of Shadow’s sanity, and from them he suspected the mad king had finally succumbed to the darkness inside his tainted soul.
The chieftain frowned, uncertain whether a broken mind would work to their advantage or disadvantage. He glanced at Jaspur, who, as usual, had his countenance hidden beneath the cowl of his weathered cloak.
Up until recently, the rogue had been unreliable and chaotic. They had nearly lost him to his own darkness before the Awakening ritual a few weeks prior. Since then, Patchi had seen a dramatic shift in Jaspur’s demeanor.
Part of it was the effects of the Awakening. With his mind’s eye widened with immortal wisdom and perception, he no longer viewed the world through the same lens.
But part of it was something else. The chieftain had never seen Jaspur this certain of himself. His confidence was real, as was his resolve. There was no more doubt within his mind or heart. He had claimed this task as his final atonement.
Though for whom, Patchi wasn’t certain.
Was it Levee he fought for? Himself? His people? The chieftain and Jaspur didn’t have a strong relationship. Unlike the rogue’s bond with Tobiano, he saw Patchi as an ally and nothing more.
Typically, that did little to impact the re’shahna’s ability to read people, but Jaspur was a complicated creature. Capable of feigning every fathomable emotion, he spent more time hiding his true self than revealing it.
It made Patchi skeptical, but tonight the chieftain had no room for doubt. He had to believe in Jaspur the way Jaspur believed in himself. They had done all they could to prepare him for this day. The rest would be up to him and Sadikaye.
Meanwhile, Jaspur’s own thoughts weren’t too far from the chieftain’s own. Although this was not the original route he had taken eighteen years prior, the end result was the same. The rogue would find Shadow within the doors of his castle, and he would face off against him one last time.
Jaspur carried the face of his enemy in his mind. It had haunted him more nights than not, to the point where he had memorized every minute detail.
He knew many things about Shadow. His face. His deeds. His cruelty. Jaspur knew that the re’shahna was a powerful illusionist long before he stole the keys to immortality and bolstered his magic with that of his unicorn victim. The rogue knew that he was driven by an insatiable desire for recognition and power.
But he did not know who Shadow was and, for some reason, it bothered him. Jaspur had hated the tainted creature that stole his throne for many long years; so much so that he had never bothered to ask what led Shadow to this point.
&n
bsp; Looking at the chieftain through the corner of his eye, he inquired in a discreet voice, “Did you know Shadow before he was tainted?”
The re’shahna’s flaxen brows knitted together. “Yes…”
“What was he like then?”
Patchi walked several paces while wearing a pensive expression before he responded. “I am not sure if now is the time to answer that question, Jaspur.”
“Tell me,” the rogue insisted. “I need to know.”
“Now?” Patchi asked, incredulous.
“Yes, now.”
Sadikaye’s ears perked. The young prince leaned in, intrigued by the conversation.
Patchi sighed. “Shadow was not born evil, but chose it when in weakness he stole a blessing he thought he deserved.”
“But who was he?” Jaspur pressed. “Was he good? Was he kind? Was he selfish? Was he vain? Who was Shadow Silverhorn?”
Patchi looked away as if he needed a moment. When he spoke, his voice cracked with a rare display of emotion. “He was a friend.”
If the tunnels could grow even more silent, they would have. It was as if every soul within earshot of the chieftain’s voice held its breath, struck by the revelation that Patchi would ever be friends with the monster they marched to defeat.
Before Jaspur could speak, Patchi continued, “He was kind, quiet, and sensitive. He would do anything to help another, but when you are an illusionist, your gift makes people wary. You have endured the terrors of his illusions before, so you know what his magic can do. People feared him not because he was cruel, but because he was capable of cruelty.
“And so Shadow, despite being worthy through deed and through intention, was never honored by the unicorns, nor the re’shahna. He had few friends beyond myself.”
The rogue frowned. “How did that lead to him becoming what he is now?”
“You heard the tale yourself many years ago among the re’shahna, did you not?”
Jaspur shook his head. “I suspect there is more to it.”
The chieftain sighed again. “Much more, but it is easier to villainize your enemy than to admit you created him.”
“Why did he force the Awakening upon himself?” Jaspur knew they were running out of time before they were below the castle grounds, and he wanted answers.
“Because he wanted what he deserved, but was never given.”
“And that was…?”
“Respect. Acknowledgement. Admiration. Love. Name any basic desire of a social creature, Jaspur, and that is what Shadow wanted. He saw your ancestor, Connor Clovenhoof, and how the people admired him as a hero for being one of the Awakened. He strived to earn such a gift, but when he finally was granted the opportunity to ask Skalabur for a blessing, the Unicorn King refused him.
“He told Shadow he was not pure enough for the Awakening ritual, but Shadow did not believe him. Devastated, he drank too much and retreated into the forest where he accidentally slayed a unicorn.”
“Accidentally?” Sadikaye’s tone was laced with doubt. “How do you accidentally kill a unicorn?”
Patchi shook his head. “It was a yearling that strayed away from the herd. In his addled state, he struck it down, thinking it was game. He buried the creature and removed the horn to return it to Skalabur, as is custom.
“But being intoxicated and overcome with emotion, he made a poor choice. Angry that the unicorn king did not entrust him with immortality, he decided to take the horn for himself. He thought he could prove his worthiness using the unicorn’s magic.
“He did not realize the act would curse him. When he returned, he showed me what he had done, thinking I would be impressed. Instead, I told the king, and the king sentenced him to death.
“He managed to escape, but not before he discovered I was the one to tell the king. When he returned many years later, the curse had tainted his heart and his mind. All he cared about was vengeance. Against me; against our people; against Connor Clovenhoof, simply for being what Shadow could not. He found enemies in everyone, for that is what the madness does.
“It takes your deepest pain and it consumes you with it until all you see is darkness.”
Neither Jaspur nor Sadikaye had anything to say after that. While the young prince felt a twinge of pity for Shadow’s story, it cut Jaspur’s heart much deeper.
For he realized just how close he had come to letting his own pain take him down the same dark road. Even before the Awakening, his guilt had brought out a viciousness in the rogue that was far from the person he used to be. Shadow’s deeds had wounded him to the point where his heart grew callous.
Because Jaspur, too, felt things very deeply, he chose to bury those emotions and replace them with an insatiable taste for vengeance. Forsaking the teachings of his cousin and his father, he let his soul become cold as ice.
He and Shadow had both faced their pain only to be overtaken by it. The only difference was the re’shahna didn’t have anyone to save him from himself.
“Are you okay, Jaspur?”
The rogue turned to Tobiano and offered a sad smile. “Just that bigger picture, old friend. T’is bloody tragedy every time I look at it.”
His mentor shook his head, understanding all too well. “A lot of sadness in it, aye, but a lot of good, too. One day, you will see.”
“One day,” Jaspur agreed, and he was determined to make those words true.
Patchi came to an abrupt halt, forcing their party to stop. All eyes fell upon the chieftain as he stared cautiously ahead.
“Something wrong?” the rogue whispered.
Patchi ignored the rogue’s inquiry. Ears tilted forward, he called out, “Bry?”
Light footsteps echoed against the tunnel walls as a re’shahna stepped forward, into the orb’s light. Jaspur swallowed back his surprise, for none of them had sensed his presence nearby except for Patchi.
Sadikaye stepped forward, squinting at the spy. “Bry? Is that really you? You look… different.”
Jaspur raised an inquisitive brow, wondering what his son’s connection with this spy was. It seemed many knew him, yet the rogue only felt a sneaking suspicion he had seen him before. Bry caught his baffled gaze and winked.
“Aye, t’is me,” the re’shahna replied. “I am sorry to come upon you unexpectedly like this, but I have one more thing your company might need.”
“And what is that?” Patchi asked.
Bry reached out and slid a large, silver object into the chieftain’s palm. “A master key, retrieved by Darthek.”
“Darthek?” Jaspur and Sadikaye asked in unison, both of them scowling.
“An ally for the moment,” Patchi studied the key in his hand before passing it along to the rogue. “Take it. You will undoubtedly need this once you enter the castle.”
“There is more,” Bry added. “When I spoke to the assassin, he claimed Shadow was barred off in a hidden room within the general’s office. Jaspur, do you know where that is?”
The rogue nodded, trying to ignore the many questions that arose over this oddly familiar face. “Aye, I have been inside the safe room before.”
“Good. Start your search there, but be careful. Shadow’s madness has made him more volatile than ever. At times, he knows not friend from foe. It has most of the castle’s servants hiding in their chambers. You’ll find the halls empty because of this, but stay on your guard nonetheless. There are still a few soldiers inside.”
“Understood,” the rogue replied.
Bry nodded. “Good. I will take my leave then. Best of luck to you all.”
Patchi, Jaspur, and Sadikaye all tapped their foreheads and extended their arms toward the spy, signaling their gratitude.
“Thank you, Bry,” the young prince added. “Stay safe.”
The spy smiled. “And you as well, Prince Sadikaye.”
The young heir grinned, and Bry took his leave, allowing the covert unit to make their final move. Patchi led them down the last stretch of tunnel before finally arriving at an unmarked and un
assuming door.
“Here is where we leave you,” he said to Jaspur and Sadikaye. “This door leads up to royal gardens. Tobiano and I will lead a charge upon the entrance of the castle while you two find and eliminate Shadow. Do not act recklessly. We have one shot at this. Thousands of lives are depending upon your success.”
“We do not go unprepared,” Jaspur planted a hand on the small re’shahna’s shoulder. “Have faith in us, Patchi.”
The chieftain returned the gesture. “I believe in you both. Go now! Deliver a fate that is long past due.”
The rogue nodded and Tobiano stepped up, his sage voice perking Jaspur’s ears. “Go with Tennakawa’s blessing, Jaspur, and know that the rahee, the re’shahna, and the elves of Whitewood stand with you.”
The look Tobiano gave the rogue moved him deeply. Many long years of memories had built a bond between them. His mentor had stood by Jaspur through his finest and worst moments without ever losing faith in him.
Like Rayhan, he took on the role of an older brother, watching over the rogue and pushing him toward the right path. It was a responsibility chosen not out of obligation, but love. Jaspur stepped forward, seizing Tobiano in a massive embrace that nearly knocked the wind out the old re’shahna.
Tobiano wheezed, then chuckled. “See you soon, brother.”
Their foreheads met as Jaspur took a deep, long breath. “Soon. I promise.”
Upon those words, Tobiano, Patchi, and the rest of their unit departed for another tunnel where they would enter the Velagran Guard’s barracks and storm the royal grounds.
“So this is it…” Sadikaye murmured. He looked at Jaspur, seeking encouragement. “You really are ready for this, right?”
“As ready as I will ever be,” Jaspur replied with a calm that didn’t quite make sense to the young prince. He followed his father, trying to emulate the courage he saw in him.
The rogue opened the door, revealing a long, steep slope that led to yet another bland door. Striding up its length, he signaled for Sadikaye to wait. Dispelling the orb that served as their light, he then cautiously cracked open the door.
The Rogue Trilogy Page 106
