by Dan Neil
Winking, she replied, “You know me too well.”
“Are you going to name it?”
“Huh? I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“If mine gets a name, so should yours.” Devin crossed her arms.
“Oh, fine.” Keia huffed. “I’ll name it—Darkstar. How about that?”
Devin rolled her eyes. “Lame.”
“Valiance?”
Devin considered this for a moment, then nodded. “That works for me! You want to come sit with Gilfried, Raya, and me in the dining hall? We’d love to have you.”
Keia looked to Myrddin, who nodded. “Of course!”
Oliver and Devin stepped through the portal. Keia waited to speak to Myrddin.
The wizard spoke first, his words brimming with joy. “I had a feeling you’d choose a shield. Perhaps there’s more Jihandi in you than I first thought.”
After rolling her eyes, Keia held Valiance up next to the setting sun, admiring the shimmering light. “I think it suits me.”
Myrddin began digging around in one of his pockets. “Ah, that reminds me! I have something for you.”
He extended a blue spellstone in an open palm, and Keia’s hand shot up to her mouth. She stammered, “I-it’s—”
The wizard smiled. “The Skystone.”
Keia reached into her own pocket and pulled out a Skystone shard. Myrddin had given it to her on her first day, insisting she carry it at all times. Sheepishly, she asked, “Is it the same one?”
Eyes glowing, he replied, “See for yourself.”
Rotating the Skystone in her hands, she noticed a fragment was missing. Keia inserted her shard into the Skystone. With a blue flash, the spellstone was whole again. Startled, her mouth fell open. “Uh—is it supposed to do that?”
Myrddin laughed. “Yes, Skystones have very strange properties, indeed.”
Warmth filled Keia’s cheeks as she met the wizard’s eyes and asked, “So—what, does this mean you trust me now?”
“I have a feeling you aren’t going to leave the kingdom. Besides, this way, you’ll always have a way to meditate should something happen to me.”
Staring at the reflection of the fading sunset in the Skystone, a smile spread across Keia’s face. “Can I—can I put it in Valiance?”
Myrddin’s eyebrows raised for a second, and then he chuckled. “Why yes, of course.”
Keia tenderly placed the shield on the ground and cast the spell to insert the Skystone. It was placed directly in Valiance’s center. The shield, and every stone within, glowed as Keia marveled at the finished product.
After a minute, she turned to Myrddin. “So, about practice tonight—should I come back, or—”
Myrddin shrugged. “I understand the process of creating your weapon was very taxing; so, I’ll give you a choice for today. I will wait here for two hours; if you return, we’ll have a normal lesson. If not, I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow. Think of it as a celebration of your first hundred days and all you’ve endured. Unfortunately, it only gets more intensive from here.”
Keia smiled. She was exhausted—more than ever before. Every day, she pushed herself harder, and it would only get worse. But she finally had something to show for it.
The feeling was short-lived. Upon arriving in Diligence Square, she was met by Gaheris. Devin and Oliver stood nearby with frustrated expressions. The Lord of Secrets, holding Devin’s wand, cleared his throat.
“Keia Atlos,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you—I’ve been waiting for you to arrive. I hope you aren’t leaving your lessons this late every day?”
Lucky break, she thought. Or maybe Myrddin somehow knew Gaheris was waiting today.
“No—of course not.”
“I understand you formed your conduit today, as every new recruit does on this day. Congratulations. Admirable that you’ve lasted this long, considering your—condition.”
Keia’s eyes narrowed. Oh, asshole.
He continued, “And I can see how hard you’re working; however, I’m afraid I’ll have to confiscate that weapon for now.”
“Wh-what?” Keia asked, cradling the shield in her hands and turning away. “No, you can’t have it!”
“Unfortunately, you don’t have a choice, as I just finished explaining to these two.” he smiled. “It’s in the bylaws. Isn’t it, Captain Alrick?”
Oliver’s frown deepened. “Unfortunately, it is. Those entering on Rite of Conscription must wait until their six months are up before receiving their weapons. If I had known about this bylaw beforehand—I am truly sorry, Keia, Devin.”
Devin crossed her arms, looking like she wanted to cry. “I think it’s a load of shite. I just got my wand.”
Keia was flabbergasted. “I—I have to give up Valiance?”
“I am afraid so,” Oliver said. “Though you will regain it in a few months—that I can guarantee.”
“Assuming the council approves of her—performance,” Gaheris said. “But for now, you criminals can’t be trusted with those weapons—especially not those produced at the kingdom’s expense.”
Keia hesitated for a moment. Valiance felt like a feather on her arm, as if it were meant to be there. She turned her head away and relented, removing the wrist-brace holding the shield. Gaheris took Valiance from her outstretched hand and smiled.
“I’ll be seeing you two.”
A moment of silence hung over everyone while Gaheris walked to the nearest portal.
Oliver hung his head. “I am so sorry, you two. He just appeared and showed me the law. I must obey lawful orders—you know this.”
“I know.” Keia sighed. “You did what you had to do.”
Strangely, she wasn’t mad at Oliver. Her hatred for Gaheris, however, had doubled.
Turning to her friend, she said, “Come on, Devin. Still want to get some dinner?”
Devin half-smiled. “Sure.”
They left for the mess hall to grab dinner with their friends. Noticing the dour mood that had fallen over them, Keia tried to lighten things up.
“Dragonwood, huh? Where’d you go to get that?”
Devin’s eyes sparked to life. “Oh, it was amazing! Oliver took me all the way to Velshamsphire, the Salt Cliffs—I saw a live drake! It tried to rush me, but Oliver scared it off by shooting blue fire at it. By Aion, he’s strong! Then we found one of the burial pits from the Dragon Wars. There were so many bones, and they were big. It was kind of spooky, to be honest. I wonder if anyone’s ever written a horror novel about zombie dragons.”
Keia smiled, listening to her friend. Dinner and a night off were exactly what she needed to recharge for the coming trials. Strangely, she missed Valiance already.
And Aliya. And Carter.
Keia sighed. Just when she had a good day, Gaheris had to ruin everything.
Chapter 7
Green Creek
Day 110 of the Season of Aion, 1020 YAR
Scipion and Matalo pressed their small force onwards. They traveled an ancient road built centuries ago by the Eldus Empire. Age had taken its toll, leaving the cobblestones cracked and the wooden fences on either side rotting. Ditches by the road were filled with bodies. Scipion was disturbed by their freshness, and the odor of death hung over their march. The onset of night made the shadowy thickets play tricks on their eyes.
There was a battle here. No rot on the corpses yet; there may still be an army nearby. We should proceed with caution.
Matalo drank wine that they had stumbled upon while they discussed their plans for New Dawn. His face was serious, but his speech was slightly slurred.
“They’re collecting their harvest,” Matalo said, “and taking it to New Maidia. We should attack while their forces are split.”
Scipion replied, “Before long, they will know about Jomar’s death, and
they will gather more men to defend themselves. We only have one advantage: we know where they are going.”
“Speed must be of the essence, then.”
“I’m not sure we could defeat Anton or Julius under the best of circumstances. We need more fighters.”
After another swig, Matalo grunted his approval and said, “People have to believe we can win. They won’t pledge to a losing cause, no matter how much they dislike the Black Heart and the Day brothers. I think we should sweep around to the east. We can take a pass from this road, stop at a few villages, and move on one of them before they reach their destination.”
“Yes,” Scipion agreed. “One of them, no doubt, will be harvesting in the east. I do wonder which road they’ll use. We should be able to take them fairly easily on the gray road.”
“Then the question becomes, how can we get them to take the gray road?”
“They’ll only take it as a last resort. Neither Day brother will want to travel through the swamp,” Scipion said.
The gray road was once the pride of Xurubia, but now it was overgrown by swampland. The sticky mud and murky waters hindered the movements of armored travelers, and tall cliffs lined the ruined path. It would be all too easy to thin their numbers with ranged attacks while the Day brothers fought through the mud. It was the fastest way to the eastern and southern lands but also the most treacherous.
“I think it depends on the brother in the east,” Scipion noted. “Julius is more cautious than Anton, and more devout. He’d never put his soldiers in that position. Anton is more cruel—more calculating. He’d be more willing to lead his troops into an unfavorable position to win the battle.”
“If we could cut off Vonn’s Path somehow, we could force whichever Day’s marching east to take the gray road.”
“Not a bad plan, brother,” Scipion mused. “How do we bottle up the path?”
“Ignition Powder? I’m sure we’ll think of something.”
Scipion nodded as something darted about in the forest. He turned his head and saw a woman. She was short and slender, with long black hair and eyes as green as Farthing’s Veld in the east. Her face was gentle and sweet; she wore a simple cloth blouse and a war skirt, and her dark skin seemed to glow.
The Scorpion Knight’s nerves were immediately calmed. He saw this woman everywhere he went for the past few years. She danced in and out of time as if waiting to meet him. He heard her laugh, full of innocence and hope. As quickly as she appeared, she turned and disappeared.
“Scipion? Scipion!” Matalo shouted as he shook his friend, nearly unhorsing him. “What’s wrong?”
“Careful! You almost knocked me off!”
“You were drifting off again! Did you fall asleep and miss my plan?”
“I’m sorry, brother. I saw her again, in the forest.”
“Saw who?”
“The woman,” Scipion replied. “The one I’ve been telling you about.”
Matalo took another swig of wine from his deerskin pouch. “You shouldn’t tell me important things when I’m drunk.”
“I’ve been seeing her for some time now, but it’s like she isn’t really there.”
“Maybe you’re seeing Lady Rhiannon! I’m sure she would help us.”
“Come now, Matalo. You think Lady Rhiannon would bother helping us?”
Matalo’s eyes glowed with mischief. “Maybe you’re losing your mind. We need to find you a real woman. A real, blind, woman.”
“Oh, very funny. Have you ever even been with a woman?”
“No, I haven’t,” Matalo said proudly. “Remember Jenna, that girl from the stables in Sophegion? She had an eye for me. If not for Bhothar, we’d have been married by now.”
“No woman ever had their eyes out for me.”
“That’s not true. Don’t you remember Sallan?” Matalo laughed riotously. “One of the prettiest and sweetest girls in Sophegion.”
Scipion groaned. “You always have to bring this up.”
“She took a liking to you. I swear she told me.” Matalo raised his deerskin bag and put his other hand on his chest. “She found most pretty men—like me—too stupid. Didn’t want stupid company now—or children later. She loved your intelligence.”
“She never had a liking for me.”
“Oh, yes, she did! She used to pester you with questions, waiting for you to make your move. You remember, right?”
“Yes, and that turned out so well.”
“You threw up on her favorite dress!” Even now, Matalo could not contain his laughter. “Scipion the Scorpion, fierce in battle and the wisest tactician who ever lived, afraid of talking to a pretty girl.”
Scipion threw a hand up. “Wisest tactician? Come now. I’m no Ileon the Conqueror.”
“Way to change the subject.” Matalo shook his head. “You vomited on that poor girl, and she still would have taken you, but you were so embarrassed you never spoke to her again.”
In a low voice, Scipion said, “I would have.”
Matalo’s smile faded.
“Yes,” he said. “But things are different now.”
Matalo pulled his horse to a stop as his head snapped toward the forest. Scipion turned Eritar around.
“What are you looking at?” Scipion asked. “Do you see her, too?”
“No,” Matalo replied. “One of the corpses moved.”
Matalo spurred his horse into the darkened underbrush between the trees, and Scipion followed. They found a commoner in chain mail leaning against one of the trees some twenty feet into the forest. His belly had been slashed by a crude weapon—only a shield pressed to his stomach kept his entrails inside. A bloodied sword lay nearby.
This man is no commoner.
“Ho, fellow.” Matalo addressed him. “Would you like some water?”
“Ho, young man. No bothering with me.” The man groaned in pain. “Don’t waste on the dying.”
Matalo dismounted and grabbed a glass cup from a pocket in his saddle. The cup had a blue stone at the bottom that activated, filling the glass with water.
The man eyed him suspiciously. “That’s rare.”
“Drink.”
The man took the cup with one hand and weakly held it to his lips. He held the water in his mouth and swished it around before spitting out the now-red liquid.
Matalo asked, “Were you traveling with all these others?”
“Aye,” the man answered. “Our troops. We were attacked by New Dawn on the path to Elduston. Thank you for the water, boy.”
“No need. So, you are an enemy to New Dawn?”
“Their whole bloody cult is an abomination,” the wounded man spat with as much anger as his pain allowed. “That Arno, he worships some devil and denies the truth of Aion.”
“Why were you traveling to Elduston?” Scipion demanded. “Who was with you when you were attacked?”
The man struggled and sat up, adjusting himself against the tree. His speech was labored and weak. “Why, the Lost Prince Barradi of course. Who else would be parading around these woods?”
“The Lost Prince?” Matalo recoiled. “Impossible. The Black Heart killed the royal family when he sacked Sophegion.”
“The prince is alive and well.” The man wheezed and coughed. “He alone escaped. They say Black Heart turned the queen into one of his dolls with his dark magic. They say he keeps them as trophies—keeps them fresh.”
“Why would the Lost Prince travel to Elduston?” Scipion questioned. “That’s right in Lord Mornwas’s path. The Black Heart has set out for Sophegion, or so I’ve heard.”
“Exactly,” the man replied. “He’s going to kill him.”
Scipion’s brow furrowed. Unlikely—there isn’t an army big enough to take the Black Heart on the continent.
Matalo jumped back in. “But you were attacked?”
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“Yes. New Dawn emerged from the trees—hundreds of them. We fought them off but lost many of our own.” He coughed violently, causing some of his insides to spill out over the shield holding them in. Staring at his organs, he concluded, “I suppose I am lost as well.”
Scipion held his tongue. The man’s wounds would only grow worse, and he did not know how to heal him.
And if New Dawn clashed here days ago, they may be closer than I believed. Scipion frowned. Not good. We need to move quickly—find shelter for the night.
“Who are you two?” the man asked after another sip of water. “You aren’t with New Dawn, are you?”
“No, of course not,” Matalo answered. “I am Matalo, and this is Scipion Gannala the Second. We’re searching for the Day brothers.”
“The Scorpion Knight,” the man weakly chuckled. “I did not realize I was in such esteemed company. Anton Day’s put a bounty on your head; they want revenge for what you did to Jomar. Apparently, Anton said to bring the one they call the Scorpion Knight in with a bag over his head so that he doesn’t have to see your face. But they found us instead.”
Matalo and Scipion exchanged knowing glances; the sun had not yet set on their opportunity. It was a stroke of luck; they would certainly be dead if Anton Day had found them.
The man grabbed Scipion’s hand and pulled him closer. “Your father served King Barradi. You must find Prince Logan. Please—he needs help. He needs…”
“I will,” Scipion affirmed. “Would you like us to leave the water?”
“No,” the man denied. “A whole sun of this misery? It’s not going to get any better; send me to Aion, and let me be free of this world.”
Scipion sighed, then drew his sword. “What is your name?”
The man spoke his last words. “I am Zel Raziki Tumouga, loyal Valkhar in service to King Logan Barradi. At least it is the son of a fellow Valkhar who takes my life and not some Nertha-running bandit. Thank you for that.”
Frowning, Scipion replied, “I wish you peace as you cross the gates.”
He hesitated, his hand frozen in place by a thought: how easily life here is lost.
