by Caitlin Seal
Two of the soldiers split from the group to walk before them, with two more walking behind. Together they passed into a wide hallway that branched left and right around what Corten took to be the center of the palace. Like the grounds outside, the hallways looked strangely empty. The heels of the soldiers’ boots thudded on the marble floor and the only other people they passed were a group of servants carrying cleaning supplies. When Corten drew aether from them, he was met by a cloud of fear. The servants didn’t so much as look up as the soldiers drew near, instead retreating quickly through an inconspicuous side door.
“What’s going on?” Corten muttered to Francisco.
“I told you there were attacks,” Francisco said, sounding troubled. “Everyone’s probably afraid the assassins will strike again.”
They passed a branch in the hall, connecting one of the palace’s wings to the central hub. Here there was more activity. Four soldiers stood at attention guarding a stairway. They watched warily as the group walked by them. Corten’s neck itched and a part of him longed to return to the relative safety of the ship. But if Naya was trapped somewhere in here, he had to find a way to help her.
After perhaps another minute they came to a second branch. More soldiers stood at attention here. A dark-skinned young woman dressed in a Banian robe stood before them, her expression impatient as she argued in Talmiran.
She cut off, her eyes widening as she noticed them. “Francisco? Way’s Light, what are you doing here?” she asked in heavily accented Ceramoran.
“Hello, Miss Jeden. I might ask you the same question,” Francisco said, raising one eyebrow.
“I came to find out what was going on. There are rumors that Naya’s been arrested, but nobody will tell me anything.” She shot a glare at the soldiers.
“That part of the rumors is true,” Francisco said.
Corten looked more closely at Miss Jeden. She looked like she might be Banian, though her hair wasn’t straight and her features had a vaguely Talmiran cast. Her robes were made of fine material but rumpled in places, and when he drew in aether, he could sense the worry and anxiety clinging to her like a dark cloud.
“Why did they arrest her? Do you know what’s going on?”
“I don’t—” Francisco began, but he was cut off by a sudden shout from farther down the hall.
The shout sliced through Corten’s chest. He turned toward the sound, seeing Miss Jeden do the same out of the corner of his eye.
One of the soldiers barked an order.
Corten paused, realizing he’d started walking toward the source of the cry. “That sounded like Naya,” he said.
The soldier who was apparently in charge of Francisco and Corten shouted something else while gesturing sharply with one hand. Corten couldn’t understand the words, but he could guess the meaning of the gesture. Stay here.
Miss Jeden ignored the soldiers and ran down the hall. The lead soldier said something else in an obviously exasperated tone, and three others followed him as he started after Miss Jeden.
Corten glanced back at Francisco. “Come on,” he said, then ran to follow. He heard Francisco curse, then footsteps behind him and shouts of protest from the guards by the stairs.
Naya followed Bargal out of the hidden tunnel and into a dimly lit room. A small cell stood empty in one corner with a table and chairs set a little away from it. Two soldiers sat slumped at the table. Naya froze, but Bargal walked past them with barely a glance. When Naya checked the aether, she found the energy around them thick with the fog of deep sleep. Drugged, perhaps?
One more hallway and a climb up a narrow stair led Naya and Bargal abruptly into the opulence of the palace proper. Naya glanced around and realized she recognized the spot from her explorations. They were near the painting Sergeant Leln had shown her, not far from the Ceramoran delegation’s wing.
Bargal continued down the hall, then stopped when he realized Naya wasn’t following. “What are you doing?” he asked.
Naya drew in aether, trying to gather her courage along with the energy. “Thank you for your help, but I can’t go with you.”
Bargal frowned. “Why not?”
“I can’t go to Endra. I have business here, and people I can’t leave behind.”
Bargal’s frown deepened. “That is not a good idea.”
Naya started to reply, then hesitated when she heard footsteps approaching from down the hall. A servant appeared a moment later, relief showing on his features when he spotted Bargal. He was dressed in a palace uniform, but his aether wrapped strangely around him, pooling at his wrists just as Bargal’s did. “Sir, there you are. Everything is taken care of. The carriage awaits you and your guest.”
“And the other matter?” Bargal asked, apparently unsurprised by the servant’s presence.
The servant cast a sideways glance at Naya. “Progressing as we speak. So I advise we move quickly.” He spoke Talmiran clearly, but Naya caught a hint of the same accent Bargal had.
Bargal nodded. “Miss Garth, I am afraid we have no time for delay.” He reached out to grab her.
Naya snatched her arm away. “No! Stay away from me!” she shouted. She felt certain now that the Endrans were the ones Celia had meant to warn her about. Resurgence’s work had sown chaos and instability at every turn. She couldn’t guess the full scope of their plans, but she could feel the hunger and urgency in Bargal’s aether.
The Congress of Powers had never feared attack from Endra. Not only were the Endran city-states divided, but the Bone Swamp and the long ridge of the Blackspine Mountains left only a few narrow passes where an army could march west. United, the Powers could mount a formidable defense at the choke points. But if the Congress failed and if Talmir and Ceramor fell to war, there would be no united front. Talmir’s army would sweep south into Ceramor, leaving Lith Lor and the rest of the northern cities largely undefended.
Terrible certainty welled inside Naya. War was coming, and it would be so much bigger than everyone imagined. She had to warn them. She glanced between Bargal and the servant, or rather the Endran spy dressed in servant’s garb, for that was what she was sure the man was. He stood like a trained fighter with his weight on the balls of his feet, his posture loose but ready. “Help!” she shouted.
The servant lunged forward, then froze when the tread of booted feet echoed from farther down the hall. “Sir,” he said to Bargal. “Please go. I will deal with this one.” There was a glimmer of steel as he pulled a dagger from a sheath hidden somewhere in his vest. The blade was scribed with runes, and though they weren’t yet active, Naya guessed the knife was a wraith eater.
“You forget yourself,” Bargal snapped.
“No, you do. Ambassador Noreth made it clear that the girl was only to be pursued if she would come quietly.”
Naya turned to run but made it only three steps before feeling the pull of the wraith eater activating. A blur of motion from the corner of her eye was the only other warning she had. She dove to the side, barely avoiding the slash of the spy’s knife. How had he moved so quickly? Aether glowed through his clothing, a strange pattern of runes spiraling up his legs and across his arms, seeming to flow outward from the bright sources at his wrists.
“That’s enough!” Bargal said. “I have tried to be polite, but we are out of time. You will come with us.”
The sound of footsteps grew louder and a figure in Banian robes came running around the bend of the hallway, stopping when she saw them. Mel? Naya barely kept herself from speaking the name, her confusion quickly replaced by fear. What was she doing here? Four Talmiran soldiers appeared just behind Mel. Naya had never felt so happy to see them.
Two more people ran up behind the soldiers, one limping and clutching his side. Francisco. And was that…? Naya drew in a sharp breath. For an instant she hadn’t recognized Corten, dressed as he was in what looked like an extra set of Francisco’s clo
thes. He froze when he saw her, Francisco drawing up sharp beside him and grabbing his arm for support. What in all of creation was Corten doing here? He was supposed to be back on the ship, safe. Two more soldiers came up behind them, their hands on their weapons and their eyes darting between Francisco and the larger group before them.
“Goodness,” Bargal said evenly. “I am sorry to cause such alarm. This man merely bumped into the girl. She was startled, but no harm has come of it.”
Fear burned in Naya’s chest. Corten and Francisco both obviously recognized her based on the way they were staring. The soldiers still looked more confused than anything else, but that would change soon. She met Corten’s eyes and willed him to understand as she mouthed a single word. Run.
Then she focused on the lead soldier, a handsome man with a few flecks of gray peppering his brown hair. “Don’t listen to him. Ambassador Bargal ordered Dalith Valn’s assassination. You can’t let him leave the palace. He—”
“Enough!” Bargal interjected, the anger in his voice cutting through the air like a knife. “I’m sorry, sirs. She is not well.”
Naya sensed the man beside her reaching for his weapon. Soldiers were staring at her, but they made no move to stop Bargal.
“Who are you, girl?” the handsome soldier asked.
Naya clenched her teeth, then let her disguise drop. The soldier’s eyes went wide, and Mel gasped.
“I’m not the one you should be afraid of!” Naya said. “You have to run. Warn—”
Ice plunged into Naya’s side as the Endran spy stabbed her with his wraith eater. Her words turned into a scream as pain flared in her hand. Her vision grew hazy as the weapon consumed her aether. Death’s tides seemed to roar around her legs.
“No!” Corten shouted.
Naya latched on to his voice. She concentrated on the aether, forcing what scraps she had left into the bones of her hand and pushing. With a gasp she stumbled away from the knife. Her legs seemed barely solid enough to support her and the bones of her hand throbbed with fiery pain. The soldiers were shouting, drawing their weapons, and Naya thought she saw Corten trying to push through them to get to her. Through the darkness at the edge of her vision, she saw the handsome soldier draw his pistol and point it at the Endran spy. Then Bargal stepped behind the soldier so quickly he seemed almost to blur. He’d peeled off his gloves, exposing a dizzying pattern of glowing runes tattooed across his skin. More runes glowed from beneath his clothes, their light somehow more real to Naya’s wavering sight than the bodies of the men around him.
The soldier pressed his finger to the trigger. Before he could fire, Bargal wrapped his hands around the soldier’s neck and twisted. The soldier’s head jerked to the side with a sickening snap. Even as he fell, Bargal snatched the pistol and turned it on another soldier. The bullet caught the woman in the throat and she collapsed, blood pouring through her fingers as she tried frantically to hold back the flood.
There was a moment of stunned silence, then the hallway exploded into chaos. Mel shouted as a soldier stepped forward to shield her. He drew his rune pistol and fired at the Endran ambassador. Bargal stumbled, red blossoming across one shoulder.
Naya struggled to understand what she was seeing. Runes glowed all across Bargal’s body, aether flowing through patterns too complex to follow. The wound in his shoulder barely seemed to slow him down. He lunged forward and kicked the soldier in the chest before the man could fire his pistol’s second shot. Bones crunched and the soldier stumbled, gasping like a fish thrown to shore. Bargal reached down and snapped his neck as casually as he had the first man’s.
Meanwhile, the Endran spy advanced on Naya, forcing her to retreat until her back was against the wall. She drew aether, but what energy she could grasp flowed to heal the cracked bone in her hand. It was taking everything she had just to stay upright. From the corner of her eye, she could see Bargal surrounded by the four remaining soldiers, all of whom had drawn swords. Bargal was unarmed and blood dripped from his wounded shoulder. He was smiling.
The runes on Bargal’s body flared. When he moved it was like water surging down a hill after a thunderstorm. Swords that should have cut him swung into empty air, and bones snapped wherever his fists struck flesh.
Naya was so focused on the horror of the assault that she didn’t notice Corten sneaking toward her until she heard the crack of the rune pistol. The bullet caught the Endran spy in the leg. He stumbled, his eyes wide.
Corten stood behind the man, holding a rune pistol in surprisingly steady hands. Naya screamed for him to move, but he only looked up at her, blinking. Then the Endran spy spun, throwing the wraith eater toward Corten.
“No!” Naya screamed, moving too late. The blade flashed through the air, the runes glowing with cold fire. For a fraction of a second, Naya thought she could see Corten’s aether pulling toward the blade.
Then he was simply gone.
The blade thudded into the wall on the far side of the hallway. “No!” Naya screamed again. The Endran spy rolled out of the way as she stumbled forward. Not even a scrap of clothing remained where Corten had stood.
“Don’t move!” Bargal snarled.
Naya looked up and saw him standing farther down the hall, holding a knife to Mel’s throat. The bodies of soldiers lay spread around him, and for the first time Naya noticed the sudden quiet.
Mel’s eyes were very wide, and a thin trickle of blood dripped from where the knife’s edge had caught her skin. Francisco lay on the ground beside them, panting shallowly and holding a bloody hand to the wound in his side.
“Sir. We have to go, now,” the Endran spy said. The glow of aether around his wrists had gone almost entirely dark and the runes along his arms and legs were fading. Still he stood, ignoring the blood dripping from the wound in his leg.
“Secure the boy,” Bargal said to him. “As for you,” he said, turning his gaze on Naya. “These ones died because of you. Would you like me to kill the girl as well, or will you come quietly?”
Mel’s eyes met Naya’s. “Don’t,” she whispered.
In her mind Naya saw Corten vanishing. A chasm had opened in her chest, making her feel like the blade had struck her instead. It was impossible. After all she’d done, she refused to believe she’d lost him again so quickly.
Naya tried not to look at the corpses. She tried not to think about the look of frozen surprise on the first soldier’s face as Bargal had so casually ended his life. Rage made Naya want to throw herself at Bargal, but exhausted and injured, she knew she couldn’t get to him before Mel’s body joined the corpses on the floor.
“Let her go and I’ll come with you. She doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Naya said.
“And have her run to tell everyone what she’s seen? No, I think I’ll keep her here to make sure you behave.” Bargal opened a small door that looked to lead into a servant’s hall. “All of you stay quiet and move quickly. If you try to call for help, I can assure you it won’t go well.”
Ambassador Bargal forced them into the nearby servant’s hallway, then shut the door. The Endran spy took the lead, followed by Francisco, then Naya. Ambassador Bargal went last, holding the knife against Mel’s spine.
Francisco stumbled after only a few steps. Naya moved on instinct to catch him and was rewarded by a sharp stab of pain in her bones. “I’m fine,” Francisco said under his breath.
“Neither one of us is fine,” Naya whispered back. “Come on, maybe together we can at least stay upright.”
Francisco looked like he wanted to object, but instead he nodded wearily. “Do you know what they want?”
Mel gasped in pain behind them. “I believe I asked for quiet,” Bargal said.
Anger and fear burned in Naya’s chest. She started to turn, but Mel’s voice stopped her. “I’m fine! Just keep moving.”
Naya exchanged a look with Francisco and found her an
ger mirrored in his eyes. She tried to think how she could get the knife away from Bargal, but every scenario she imagined ended with the blade plunging into Mel’s back. So she kept walking, waiting for anything that might provide an opportunity for escape.
The Endran spy led them confidently through the narrow halls. Naya heard a shuffle and a gasp and looked up to see a serving woman coming from the opposite direction. “Out of the way, there’s been another attack,” the Endran spy shouted before the woman could ask what they were doing.
The woman pressed her hands to her mouth, then turned and fled. She was gone before Naya could decide if calling out to her was worth the risk. Probably not. She didn’t want to get anyone else tangled in this.
“Sir, should I…?” the Endran spy asked.
“Ignore her,” Bargal said. “We’ll be gone soon enough.”
Naya clenched her teeth. The wraith eater had worsened the damage to her bones and it was a struggle just to keep her body solid and to keep walking. As for Corten…her mind kept replaying that instant when he’d vanished. Nothing about it made sense. She could have almost sworn he’d vanished before the wraith eater touched him.
Through the aether Naya could feel panic radiating off Mel behind her. Beyond that, the aether of the palace thrummed. Ever since Bargal had brought her up from her cell she’d felt the heavy fear of the palace’s residents, but now fresh panic was spreading. The bodies had been found, or perhaps the servant was already spreading word of the attack. Of course, the woman wouldn’t know what was going on. She’d probably seen the Endran spy’s uniform and his wounded leg and assumed he was a victim. Any reports she spread would only add to the confusion, maybe even making it easier for Bargal and his companions to escape.
Reluctantly, Naya shoved aside her questions about Corten’s fate. She couldn’t do anything about it right now. She just had to trust and hope that he was somehow all right. She was certain that Ambassador Bargal’s work in Talmir was the beginning of some larger attack. What she couldn’t understand was why he’d risked so much to retrieve her from her cell. “Why are you doing this?” she asked. “Your people tried to have Francisco and me killed. Why work so hard to capture us now?”
