The Dark Disciple (The Daybreak Saga Book 2)

by Dan Neil

  Keia rushed forward, screaming, but it was too late. The Crystalia bloomed, immortalizing Lorinal’s last moments of terror and despair. Keia pounded her fist against the crystal prison. This was the last thing she wanted. Her mind raced for a solution, some way to save Lorinal, but there was nothing she could do.

  Emptiness filled her. Keia’s hands pressed against the Crystalia, her entire body slackening. Her breaths were shaky as she sank to her knees. Moisture filled her eyes, but only a single tear carved through the blood and dirt staining her cheek.

  “I’m sorry—I’m sorry—I’m so sorry…”

  Voices called out in the distance.

  Keia shook her head. How did this get so fucked up?

  She tried to raise Valiance but yelped when pain jolted up her side. Her wound was a problem—one she had to deal with quickly. Before that, she needed distance between her and the capital. Struggling to one knee, she cast a portal beneath herself.

  Keia went through a few more portals before she was comfortable enough to stop. The Kingswall was but a speck in the distance. She managed to cast a weak healing spell on her first try and nearly passed out after three seconds. After taking a minute to recover some magic, she cast healing a second time to close the wound.

  Able to finally relax somewhat, Keia noticed a fresh aching in her belly, duller and more internal than her wound. As if taking advantage of her attention, her stomach gave a pathetic growl.

  Keia pulled a spell plate from the pouch and summoned a bright orange tangerine. The fruit’s sweet juice spilled onto the plate, slowly creeping forward. Images of Lorinal’s horrified, bloodied face flashed through her head. Instantly losing her appetite, she dropped the plate, tangerine and all.

  Keia’s eyes drifted to the stars above—a sight unseen in Symon’s kingdom, for too many lights obscured them. Before her encounter with Ulrich, Carter and Aliya would walk with her through Capital Forest. Keia spent many hours staring in melancholy at the symphony of light. Humans shared kinship with the stars as children of Gaea.

  There was little time to get carried away with her thoughts or lamentations. Keia raised her wand. With a few portals, she took the lay of the land. The hills seemed to go on forever, leaving valleys deep enough to hide in for the night. She rolled out a straw mat and stared at the stars.

  Despite her hellish day, the first thought that came to her was of her friends.

  Devin. Jisaazu. Raya. Oliver. Lesteria. Gilfried. Don’t give up just because I’m gone. I’ll be back—maybe.

  Keia snapped to attention. She couldn’t afford to worry about people in Genievon. She needed sleep to recover and fell into it almost immediately. There were no dreams, only light from Valiance. The Skystone enveloped her with starlight as if preparing her for the journey to come.

  Chapter 31

  Mission

  Day 8 of the Season of Life, 1020 YAR

  Jisaazu was asleep during the Gladios Horrors, resting from a second strenuous match. She was woken by distant booms but thought little of it; after all, no one dared attack King Symon’s capital in broad daylight.

  Sir Brandon summoned the Royal Brigades the following day and announced the official death count: one thousand, four hundred and twenty-seven people lost their lives. Many thousands more were injured. Jisaazu understood everything she needed to know. Anger and vengeful intent burned within her. The kingdom was at war.

  Mothers, fathers—children. He’ll pay, she thought while walking home. Myrddin will pay.

  She heard the shuffles of footsteps and the clinking of armor. A small group seemed to be forming on the cobblestone road. Worse, they seemed to be following her.

  Unsheathing the Jaaza Greatsword, Jisaazu turned and found four Crown’s Guard. They had swords at their side.

  “Jisaazu, of the Fifth Royal Brigade,” one of them stepped forward and spoke, “Lord Gaheris, the King’s Adviser on Magic, has requested your presence.”

  “Requested?” Her eyebrow raised. She could cut through each of them twice before they drew their swords.

  “It would be unwise to decline. Lord Gaheris must speak to you about matters of utmost importance. Silence is akin to treason.”

  Jisaazu offered no reply but shifted in discomfort.

  I don’t want to be a traitor.

  “You may bring your weapon if it makes you more comfortable. Lord Gaheris has no intention of causing you harm. Quite the opposite—you have been selected for a special mission.”

  Her posture softened. Now curious, she sheathed the Jaaza Greatsword.

  She nodded and said, “Next time, lead with the whole mission thing.”

  The guards formed a square around her as they walked, guiding her to the Middle Magic Chamber’s portal.

  Despite the previous day’s horrors, Jisaazu felt a morbid sense of excitement. What sort of mission was it? Had Keia been selected, too? She imagined the two of them bringing the Mad Wizard to justice.

  Gaheris’s scowl as she entered his dark office filled her with uncertainty. Strange and sinister objects—some of which glowed—were scattered throughout the room, putting her on edge. A human doll of infant size turned to face her as she stepped forward.

  Repulsed, Jisaazu turned to focus on the greasy man behind the desk.

  “Jisaazu, of the Jaaza Greatsword. You’ve won respect from several master knights, though I have never personally seen you wield the blade,” Gaheris began. “Do you know why I called you here today?”

  “I have no idea.”

  After a brief silence, Gaheris asked, “How much do you know?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “About?”

  “Gladios, obviously.”

  “I know some fourteen hundred were killed. I know it was some sort of magic, the weapon of cowards.”

  Gaheris’s eyebrow raised. “Cowards, indeed. Anything else?”

  In a low voice, Jisaazu said, “It was Myrddin, wasn’t it?”

  “That is what we believe. Tell me, have you seen your partner in the past day?”

  “You mean Keia?”

  “Yes, Keia is exactly who I mean.”

  Jisaazu’s head tilted. “I haven’t seen her, come to think of it. She’s probably still sleeping after what happened. The attacks broke out during her match, right?”

  “Yes. She was still fighting.” He paused, eyes wandering until he found the proper phrasing. “I was hoping to ascertain your relationship with her.”

  “We’re friends,” Jisaazu replied. “Her mother was my hero, but she’s the furthest thing from Jihandi Atlos I can imagine. But she has a good heart, and she never gave up. She saved my life.”

  Gaheris rubbed his hands together. “I see.”

  “Why do you need to know?” Jisaazu asked. “Did something happen to—”

  “Do you know who was responsible for determining partnerships?”

  Frustrated, Jisaazu replied, “I’m guessing some sort of spell, like everything else in this bloody kingdom.”

  “No. Myrddin hand-picked your and Keia’s partnership.”

  Jisaazu’s eyes narrowed. Just what is he saying?

  “You, a foreigner—we can’t even verify the existence of your birthplace, thanks to the Black Heart’s blockade. Taking your word as to who you are, we gave you a chance. Then you’re paired with the target of Myrddin’s indoctrination. He absconds with the spellbook, and an attack on our kingdom follows? Suspicious,” Gaheris concluded.

  Jisaazu fidgeted. Was he trying to implicate her? “I’m not a part of some grand conspiracy, if that’s what—”

  “I suspect no wrongdoing on your part,” Gaheris said. “But you might see how extra effort to prove your loyalty may be beneficial.”

  Jisaazu glared. “You’re threatening me.”

  “Let’s just say that I have—leverage. We’re at war now, sol
dier. There’s no limit to what we can do to root out treason within our walls.”

  This guy’s a fucking snake. He’s lucky I hate the bastard who did this more.

  She crossed her arms. “Fine, then. What might I do to demonstrate my loyalty?”

  Gaheris began, “Last night, Keia Atlos, your partner and Myrddin’s protégé, was supposed to be brought in for questioning. Instead, she fled the kingdom.”

  “No,” Jisaazu said, shocked, “no, she wouldn’t just leave, not unless…”

  “Unless she was involved,” Gaheris said. “She may be looking to join the Wild King’s ranks along with her wizard friend. Keia Atlos is a traitor.”

  Jisaazu frowned as her brow furrowed. A traitor? Something felt off about that. Keia loved her home—didn’t she?

  “Your mission is to return Keia to Genievon to stand trial for her crimes—dead or alive. A new partner will be assigned to you for this mission.”

  Jisaazu shook her head. “If what you’ve told me is true—if—she won’t be returning alive.”

  She hardly believed what she’d heard. Keia was unlikely to be joining the Wild King any time soon. It was much more likely that she’d gone off to find her family after the attacks.

  Unsure of what to make of the news, Jisaazu stood. “Is that all you need from me?”

  “Yes,” Gaheris said. “I will notify your mission partner. They will come to you. Leave by night’s end. You will be entering the heart of Greerwood Forest—the most dangerous place on Alea. Be prepared for anything. You are dismissed.”

  Jisaazu bowed out. The palace corridors seemed to move by as she walked home in a daze. She couldn’t imagine Keia betraying the kingdom, much less orchestrating terrorist attacks.

  This has to be some sort of misunderstanding. Maybe she’s in her room right now. Maybe it’s all just been blown out of proportion.

  The silence of 167 Sacrifice Road confirmed Keia’s absence. Jisaazu found only what she left behind. The swordswoman stared at her partner’s—no, her friend’s—empty room, trying to process everything. Her eyes fell to something on Keia’s pillow—a note.

  She struggled to make out the common language for ten minutes before giving up, unable to parse anything of meaning from it. She folded the note and set it aside.

  After adorning her warp armor, Jisaazu packed supplies into a satchel: a jug, spare clothes, a sewing kit, and a few other assorted things. She had traveled lightly her entire life; this journey would be no exception. Her eyes fell once more to the note. She placed it between one of her shirts in the satchel. Now she was ready.

  Someone knocked on the door. Jisaazu was greeted by a young man with short brown hair and sharp, green eyes. He wore a King’s Militia uniform; sheathed on his back were two wickedly curved blades. He looked older and spoke with a strange but subtle accent.

  “I’m Ervane Orissius, paladin of twenty and four years in the Fourth Paladin’s Division. I’m your new partner.”

  “Right.” Jisaazu nodded. “Are you already packed?”

  “I am,” Ervane responded. “I was told that you dislike magic.”

  Jisaazu shook her head, confirming his suspicion.

  “Very good. I packed everything magical we’ll need. I brought extra food and water rations, and I will show you how to use them. Very easy spells. Anyone can cast them with minimal effort,” he said.

  “If you brought the supplies and know how to use them, why do I need to know?”

  “If we get separated, I don’t want you starving to death! I also assume that you don’t have sufficient clothing for Greerwood Forest.”

  “I have enough clothes,” Jisaazu insisted. “I’ll layer up.”

  Ervane stared in awe. “Layer up? For Greerwood Forest? Also known as the Winter Forest, where the temperature is so low that one could die if exposed for mere seconds? The forest in which permanent blizzards rampage? You’ll ‘layer up?’”

  Jisaazu had no clothes for winter. She always toughed it out when it was cold.

  Ervane chuckled. “I have an extra freeze suit—standard for the kingdom, developed for just this task. Every ranger has one under their—layers.”

  “I don’t need it,” Jisaazu protested.

  “Oh, okay then,” Ervane said. “Well, I’ll ask you again when we hit sub-zero temperatures. It’ll be a long journey, and I’ve prepared as such. I brought maps made by Carter Atlos—Keia’s brother. I was not aware of her defection. Is it affecting you?”

  After a short pause, she decided against answering honestly. It was better not to let on that she had doubts about Keia’s guilt.

  “We weren’t close.”

  Ervane’s brow furrowed. “You must have been! You lived together for six months.”

  “We rarely saw each other,” Jisaazu said. “She trained a lot and was never home. Plus, she never really liked me.”

  “I see,” Ervane said. Changing the subject, he said, “There is a possibility that we will encounter Myrddin on this journey, as he may be influencing Keia’s actions. We must be ready for anything.”

  “Ready for the magic?” Jisaazu chuckled. “I think I can handle myself—I’ll protect you if you’re scared.”

  “Fear keeps a soldier alive!” Ervane replied. “Fear is your brain telling you there’s something that you need to protect yourself from. I appreciate your confidence, but we don’t know what could be waiting for us out there.”

  “We’ll deal with it as it comes,” she said, grabbing the satchel and the Jaaza Greatsword. Lastly, she draped a cloak around herself and said, “No sense waiting. Let’s get a move on.”

  “Indeed,” Ervane responded. “I will brief you in the morning after we have departed. The people of the kingdom must not hear the details of our mission.”

  Jisaazu shrugged. They walked through streets packed with people. Some held illumination spells in honor of the dead, while others chanted, prayed, cried, and questioned the gods’ cruelty. Jisaazu had no answers for them. There were thousands of grieving mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, and priests by the Northern Kingswall alone.

  “I was touched by Aion, I know I was! I don’t know how, but I felt it—I should be dead!” said a brash old man leading a small congregation. The various churches offered their help in sorting through the shared trauma.

  “The Will of Gaea is with the people!” the old man shouted as Jisaazu looked on, curious.

  “Don’t be stirred by that demagogue,” Ervane whispered. “The Will of Gaea is with the king.”

  Jisaazu’s eyebrow raised. Who cares where Gaea’s stupid will is?

  They finally arrived at the Nothron Gate, leaving the crowded streets behind.

  One of the gatekeepers spoke up immediately. “Jisaazu and Ervane?”

  Jisaazu’s new partner smiled. “Wow! It’s as if you knew we were coming.”

  “I was informed of your arrival—given orders to let you through by Gaheris himself. He seems to be running the kingdom these days.”

  “I should hope not!” Ervane said to laughter as the gate opened. They took several steps and were beyond the Kingswall. Jisaazu took a moment. Last time she passed through these gates, she didn’t know what it meant to be a soldier or have a friend. Now, she had to find out of any of it was real.

  Jisaazu’s first mission as a member of the King’s Militia had begun. They walked through Capital Forest in silence, neither knowing the grave peril that waited for them.

  Chapter 32

  Hidden Home

  Day 8 of the Season of Life, 1020 YAR

  Keia passed through the broken walls of a fortress gone long before she was born; two ancient kingdoms called the Itheran Plains home, evidenced by the scattered ruins and remnants. Now nature had claimed it anew; vines, weeds, and grasses lived on every wall and in every crack of the broken foundations.

&nb
sp; This must have been a hard place to get into back then. She sighed, staring in melancholy. I’d love to stay.

  Keia traveled quickly with portals—five at a time before resting. From Carter’s maps, she knew that the northernmost point of the Eternal Laws of Magic would soon be behind her. The lands beyond the laws were known collectively as the wild lands.

  It struck Keia—she would be in the wild lands soon. A smile took over her lips. Myrddin had been right about one thing: out here, Forbidden Magic might be around any corner. At least she was somewhat prepared.

  Keia barely slept, keeping to a strict schedule; whatever rest she missed was gone. Stopping to sleep was too much of a risk. There wasn’t time to process her confrontations with Gaheris and Lorinal, much less the horror of Gladios; nor was there time to process the underlying entity—or entities—pulling the strings.

  Keia emerged from a portal and waded through the grass. Taking in the warm sunlight and the gentle breeze, she closed her eyes and stretched her arms. She walked forward a few steps until her face hit something solid. Stunned, she fell onto her rear. Her eyes darted about, but nothing was there. She held her throbbing nose, eyes watering as she stood.

  “What the hell is this?” Keia reached out and touched a solid surface in thin air—it felt like wood. It extended to the ground. She stood on her toes to find the top, but the invisible surface was too tall.

  “You’ll have to come in the old-fashioned way, dear!” A voice rang in the breeze. “I’m afraid that I don’t have a door.”

  “Who are you? What are you talking about?” Keia asked. But before the voice replied, she understood.

  She cast a portal and emerged inside a small, cramped cottage where an amused elderly woman sat at a wooden table in which runic markings had been carved. The home was dimly lit; Keia could barely make out the indistinct clutter piled up along the walls. Trinkets, weapons, dolls, precious metals, books, papers, conduits, spellstones, and writing tools were littered about.

  The elderly woman wore bifocals, a green headscarf, and flowing green robes that matched the deep hue of her eyes.