Defy

by Sara B. Larson

  “And not all sorcerers are from Blevon,” General Tinso added. “That was one of the lies Hector told his people to build more animosity toward our kingdom.”

  I stared at them in shock.

  “It’s true,” Damian agreed grimly. “Iker was a gift from Hector’s brother, the king of Dansii, to protect my father. No one can get past Iker and he never leaves my father’s side.”

  “What makes a black sorcerer so much worse than other types?” Rylan asked as I tried to wrap my mind around all the lies we’d been told by our king. I’d hated him before, but as I continued to learn just how evil he was, there wasn’t a word strong enough for the utter abhorrence that burned through me.

  “It’s a sorcerer who uses the forces of the underworld to increase his power. He draws on the strength of demons by making blood sacrifices to them. Because of it, he is even able to create and wield an unnatural fire. It makes him unbeatable, but in so doing, he forfeits his soul.” General Tinso looked at me as he said this, for some reason. I shivered. The sun had gone down while we talked, leaving the room in shadow. I remembered suddenly the scent of burned blood, the stains on Iker’s knife, the oppressive heat and unnatural darkness in his chambers. So that’s what he’d been doing. Making an offering to the demons that fueled his power. I’d known something was wrong that night.

  “All sorcerers are able to sense the power of sorcery in others,” General Tinso continued, breaking into my troubled memories.

  “So if another sorcerer gets near Eljin, he can sense it?” Rylan asked.

  “Yes. If that person comes within a few feet of him, Eljin can tell whether he is a sorcerer,” General Tinso confirmed.

  “So I’m not a sorcerer, then?” I blurted out and then immediately snapped my mouth shut.

  “What?” Rylan turned to me, his eyes wide. “You think you’re a sorcerer now?”

  “No.” General Tinso smiled grimly, answering my question.

  I tried not to flush in embarrassment. I’d been worried about it ever since he said I was “gifted” — especially since no one would tell me what that meant.

  “Has no one answered your question yet?”

  I shook my head, not daring to look at Damian or Rylan.

  “My suspicion is that your father was a sorcerer, and a powerful one at that. Most likely one of the rare sorcerers whose gift was the ability to fight. And I believe he passed that on to you. You’re not a true sorcerer, but you carry some of his power within you. It enhances your ability to fight. It’s why you can sense magic around you. Average humans, without an ounce of sorcery in them, wouldn’t have been able to feel the use of magic during a fight.”

  I stared at General Tinso. “My father? There’s no way. I would have known. He would have told me if he were a sorcerer!”

  “My dear girl, do you honestly think so? In a nation where being a sorcerer is akin to a death sentence?”

  My mouth opened to continue to protest, but nothing came out. What if he was right? I thought again of how much I loved watching Papa practice — how he’d been so fast, so beautiful. How I’d longed to be like him. I thought of the hours and hours we’d spent relentlessly sparring, how he was always pushing me, driving me to be better. Faster. Stronger. But I’d never felt him use magic against me. I shook my head, my mind spinning.

  “But … if he was a sorcerer, why did he die? Why didn’t he use magic to stop the one who killed him and my mother?”

  General Tinso gave me a sad, knowing look. “He must have been fighting someone who was more powerful than he was.”

  “Well, how can you be sure I’m not a sorcerer, then?” I pressed. “If you’re so sure Papa was one.”

  “Because Eljin would have sensed it the moment he stepped into the ring with you. And Iker would have had you killed long ago. If the rumors are true, Iker’s power is expanding so that he can sense another sorcerer anywhere in the same room.”

  I suppressed a shiver. He was wrong — he had to be wrong. Papa wasn’t a sorcerer. He wouldn’t have kept something like that from me.

  “If Iker can sense sorcerers from that far away …” Rylan trailed off, glancing at Damian, whose expression was grim. He’d been watching me the whole time, his eyes guarded.

  “If we were to try to storm the palace with every sorcerer in Blevon, he would sense us before we ever got close enough to see the king, let alone kill him. And he is powerful enough to destroy us all.” General Tinso’s voice was quiet.

  The bleakness of our situation was crushing. If what they were telling us was true, there was no way we could ever stop King Hector. The last small bit of hope I had of somehow helping end this war died.

  “If he can sense sorcerers like that, why didn’t he recognize Eljin as one while he was there? Or Lisbet?” Rylan wondered.

  “I told Eljin my father’s schedule while he was in the palace, and he stayed as far away from him as possible, since we knew Iker would always be with the king. Sometimes it’s beneficial to have my rooms on the opposite side of the palace from theirs. And Lisbet has been taking bloodroot for years to suppress her abilities, just in case Iker ever got anywhere near where she and Jax were hiding,” Damian answered, walking toward me. I was right after all; the bloodroot had been for Lisbet.

  When he stopped right in front of me, I gazed up into his face, knowing the hopelessness I felt was probably visible in my eyes. “There’s nothing we can do, then,” I said quietly.

  Damian took my hands in his. “There is something. But it’s a huge risk.”

  I could feel the tension in him; it flowed through his hands into mine. “If there’s a possibility to stop the king, it would be worth the risk, right?” I said.

  “I used to think so,” he said, his eyes on mine.

  “Damian, don’t let emotion cloud your judgment,” General Tinso admonished sternly.

  “Emotion about what? What’s the risk?”

  But as he stood there, gripping my hands, staring down at me, the answer dawned on me. “I’m the risk,” I said, my voice soft. “That’s why you wanted me to train here. You want me to fight Iker.”

  “I don’t know what I want anymore,” Damian said, desperation lurking in his eyes.

  “You can’t expect her to fight him — you just said he’s unbeatable,” Rylan protested. “She’ll be killed!” He stood a little bit away from us, staring at Damian’s hands on mine, refusing to meet my gaze, his cheeks flushed.

  “You once asked me if I thought it was worth losing one life in order to save everyone else’s. Were you talking about my life?” I looked up at Damian, my heart thudding.

  Before he could answer, General Tinso cut in again. “Alexa, you can do this. The plan has been put in action, and we only have two weeks before we must leave and begin our march on Tubatse and the palace. But you got past my son’s defenses after only one day of training. I believe you have the ability to do this — I believe you can kill Iker.”

  “If I can do it — if I kill Iker …” I trailed off.

  “Then I will kill my father,” Damian said tonelessly.

  The day my parents were killed, I’d sworn to do something to help stop this war — to keep our entire nation from being destroyed by it. If I’d known then what I knew now, would I have still made that vow to myself?

  I stared up at Damian for a moment longer, my mind spinning mercilessly.

  “Don’t do this, Alexa. Don’t agree to this,” Rylan pleaded, his expression troubled.

  Finally, I looked at General Tinso.

  “What do I need to do?”

  General Tinso gave me a grim smile. “I knew you had it in you. Let’s get started.”

  THE NEXT WEEK was a blur of constant training with Eljin. Every morning, he came at the first light of dawn and led us to the same room where we fought for hours on end. Damian and Rylan watched part of the time and sparred with each other the rest.

  Lisbet even came and watched a couple of times. She looked like a different woman
here. The dark circles were gone from under her eyes, and her skin almost glowed. She healed some of the more painful bruises I’d sustained over the last few days of fighting. When I asked about Tanoori, she assured me she was healing. Because the infection had taken such a strong hold on her body, it was taking longer, but there was another healer in General Tinso’s castle who was helping and Lisbet hoped Tanoori would be completely recovered soon. It was a small comfort that we hadn’t carried her for days for nothing after all.

  Every night after the sun went down, I dragged my body back to the room where we slept and collapsed onto my cot, falling asleep almost immediately. My whole life, I’d trained ruthlessly, pushing myself to be the best. But I’d never had to work as hard as I did fighting Eljin and his sorcery. I was more certain than ever that General Tinso was wrong about Papa — and about me. I hadn’t been able to get past Eljin’s shield again once in the whole week, and I was growing progressively more discouraged.

  “I can’t do it!” I finally shouted at the end of a very long practice session, and threw my sword on the ground after Eljin had deflected me for the hundredth time that day. “You aren’t even attacking me with sorcery; you’re just defending yourself. The minute I go after Iker, he’s going to kill me, isn’t he? He won’t just throw up a shield and let me try again. I’m going to fail and then Iker will kill all of you and this war will never end.”

  I sat down on the floor in the middle of the room and dropped my head into my hands. I was so exhausted, I couldn’t hold back my sobs.

  “Alexa —”

  I heard Damian say my name, but Rylan was there first. He crouched down in front of me and took my chin in his hand, forcing me to look up at him.

  “You aren’t a quitter,” he said gruffly.

  “Then you obviously don’t understand what it means to say, I can’t do this,” I pointed out.

  He put both of his hands on my shoulders and stared into my face, his expression earnest. “Alex, you can do this. I know you can. You did it before, and you can do it again.”

  “No, I can’t.” I reached up and angrily wiped the tears from my cheeks. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the last week? Playing a game?”

  “No,” Rylan said gently. “But it hasn’t been the same, and you know it. When you beat him last week, something was different about you. You’ve always had a fire inside that’s driven you to be the best fighter I’ve ever known. But the time you beat Eljin, it was as if that fire had turned into an inferno. I’ve never seen you like that. All you have to do is figure out what was different about that day so you can repeat it.”

  I wiped my nose, which had decided to embarrass me further by running, and glared at him. “I don’t know what the difference was. I was mad, but I’m mad right now, too, and I still can’t do it.” I shrugged Rylan’s hands off me and stood back up. “I’m sorry, Damian. I’m sorry that I’m not good enough.”

  Damian just looked at me, his expression unreadable. Then he turned to face Eljin, who had stood watching my humiliating tantrum with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. “I think we should call it a night and let her get some extra rest,” Damian said.

  “We only have one week left until we must leave to make our rendezvous point, and as she’s pointed out, she has yet to be successful again,” Eljin argued.

  I flinched at the honesty of his words. Even though I’d said the same about myself, it was different hearing it from someone else.

  “All the more reason to let her rest and rebuild her strength. Maybe we’re pushing her too hard.” Damian walked toward me and brushed the sweaty hair back from my face, cupping my cheek in his hand. I was too upset and tired to care that Rylan was watching. I looked up into Damian’s beautiful eyes and nearly started crying again.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

  “Don’t be sorry.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead softly. “Let’s go back to our room so you can rest. I’ll have Eljin get you something to eat and you can just forget about all of this for the night. How does that sound?”

  It sounded like a weak attempt to delay the inevitable. We didn’t have time for me to need to rest, but in that moment, I didn’t care. I was not picking up that sword again tonight. “All right,” I said.

  “I really don’t think —” Eljin began, but Damian cut him off.

  “Kindly escort us to our room, and then find her something good to eat,” he said in a tone that made it very clear he wasn’t making a request. It was one of those moments when I was reminded that he really was a prince — that, someday, if a miracle happened and we succeeded, he would be king.

  “I’d like to stay here,” Rylan said suddenly, not meeting my gaze. “I’d like to train some more.”

  “And if someone sees me taking those two back but not you?” Eljin said, sounding very irritated.

  “We’ve only seen two people in the last week,” Damian pointed out.

  I wished Rylan would look at me, but he continued to stare at Eljin, waiting for an answer. I was sure he was upset about Damian taking control, and probably for kissing my forehead, too, and it made my stomach twist into a guilty knot. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to Rylan since Damian had apologized to me. He probably thought I was being a fool, letting the prince have his way with me.

  “Fine,” Eljin finally said. “But after I bring the food, you have to go back, too.”

  “That’s fine,” Rylan agreed, and walked away to the wall where a bunch of scythes was hanging.

  I watched him for a moment, a dull ache in my chest, but then Damian took my hand.

  “Come on. Let’s go so you can rest.”

  I followed him to the door, where he let go of my hand, so that if anyone was there, they wouldn’t see. I glanced back at Rylan one last time, but his back was still turned to us. And then Eljin shut the door, sealing him inside, alone.

  THERE WAS A fire burning in the small hearth when Damian and I entered our room, sending light and shadows dancing across the walls and our empty cots, chasing away the chill. Eljin shut the door behind us with an audible huff of irritation.

  I shuffled across the floor and sat down heavily on my cot. Damian took a seat across from me without a word.

  “What, no sermon, no lecture? No words of inspiration?” I asked, my voice sarcastic.

  “No,” he said.

  The firelight played across his face as he reached down into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a trinket of some sort. It looked like the one I’d seen him holding in his room all those weeks ago. He stared down at it, and I noticed a muscle in his jaw tighten.

  “What is it?” I finally asked.

  He glanced at me and held it up. It was small and oval shaped. “It’s a locket.”

  That wasn’t what I was expecting.

  Using his thumbnail, Damian flicked it open and gazed down at what was inside. Grief crossed his face, and he closed his eyes briefly. Then he stood and came to sit next to me. He handed me the locket, and I looked down at a portrait of a beautiful woman with flawless, olive-toned skin; thick, dark hair; and vibrant, warm brown eyes. She had Damian’s lips — or rather, he had hers.

  “This is your mother,” I said quietly.

  “Yes.”

  We were silent as I stared at her portrait. “She was beautiful,” I said, handing it back to him.

  Damian nodded and ran his finger across the image tenderly. “It was an arranged marriage — to my father. My grandfather was the king of Dansii. He’d always had his eye on Antion, particularly our diamond and gold mines. When Hector and my uncle, Armando, were old enough to lead the troops, my grandfather sent them to war at the head of his massive army. Just one week after they succeeded in conquering the Antionese army, my grandfather died. Armando was crowned king of Dansii, and my father took possession of Antion.”

  I listened intently, watching Damian’s face as he spoke, wondering why he was telling me this.

  “At the coronation ceremony, King Osga
nd offered to arrange a marriage with his niece, in an effort to keep the alliance that had always existed between the two nations. He feared Dansii’s growing power and reach. My father was smitten the moment he saw my mother, and he agreed to the marriage and to continue the alliance.

  “The first few years of their marriage were uneventful, from what I’ve been told. She gave him two sons, and he kept his promise to maintain peace with Blevon. But then Dansii was attacked by an unknown army, led by multiple sorcerers. King Armando was nearly killed, and the Dansiian army barely managed to force the army into retreat, and only by sheer number and size — not by skill.

  “Afraid for his life and for his brother’s, Armando hired two black sorcerers — one for him and one for Hector. Iker came to live at the palace. When my mother walked into the room to meet him, he sensed what she was right away, and revealed her secret — she was a sorceress.”

  I gasped. “Your mother?”

  Damian nodded, still staring down at the locket. “She used to show Victor and me what she could do. We thought it was amazing, but she told us it was a secret game, that we couldn’t tell anyone. We adored our mother, and we’d kept her secret. But Iker sensed her ability the moment she walked into the room and he told my father. Hector was furious — accused her of being a spy, a plant, waiting for the time to turn on him and kill him so she could hand Antion to her uncle. I remember the fight, because Victor and I had been playing in the room next door and we could hear him shouting. She tried to warn him about Iker, to explain that he wasn’t an ordinary sorcerer, but my father wouldn’t listen.

  “He locked her in her room, and only let us see her every few days. And Iker was always with us when we visited her, making sure she couldn’t say or do anything he didn’t approve of.” Damian paused, his voice thick with emotion.

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to keep going,” I said, terrified to hear what came next. I didn’t want to make him relive it.

  “I’ve never told anyone before. Not this.” Damian finally looked up from the locket. “I got mad at my father. I yelled at him for hurting Mother, for making her stop using her magic. That night, he took Victor and me to her room. He sat us down in front of her and said he was going to teach us what happened if we ever betrayed him. He told us sorcery was evil and that he wouldn’t allow it in Antion. And then he killed her.” Damian shuddered at the memory, which I was helpless to erase. “He’d been poisoning her for weeks with bloodroot, so she couldn’t stop him. I remember her eyes widening … the way she cried out when he lifted his sword. She begged him … begged him not to …” His voice broke, and he clenched his mouth shut.