The Prophecy

by Erin Rhew

  “Please don’t ask me that, Nash.” She implored him, a hint of desperation in her plea.

  “Are you in trouble?”

  “No, nothing like that. I don’t want to lie to you, though, so please just don’t ask me.”

  As much as he wanted to push Vespa for an answer, Nash relented. They were all entitled to their secrets…he had his.

  His mind wandered, remembering how Layla’s purple eyes flashed at him in the hallway. Nash had never met anyone like her. He admired the fighter inside her—her fierceness, her passion.

  “I’ll walk you to your room.” He placed a hand on the small of Vespa’s back, guiding her forward. “A princess shouldn’t be wandering the halls alone at night.”

  Vespa smiled gratefully and relaxed her shoulders. She removed his hand from her back, folded it across his chest, and tucked her arm in his. He stifled an exasperated big brother sigh. She had always loved to be paraded around, even as a toddler.

  “Nash, why were you outside the gates in the forest today?” His stomach dropped, but he kept walking without breaking stride.

  “You know I have to get away from this place sometimes. I go to the woods, to the Vanguard side, where no one knows me. It’s peaceful there.”

  “Aren’t you afraid the Vanguards will kill you?”

  She sounded so concerned. He couldn’t help but smile, pleased that someone worried about him. So many times he felt completely alone in this castle, in this family. Without Vespa and Wil, he would be.

  “I look like a Vanguard with this dark hair.” He gestured to his head with his free hand. “No one ever bothers me.”

  “I wish I could get away from here sometimes too.” Vespa sighed. “I’d be spotted immediately with my bright blond hair though.”

  “In an instant.” Nash laughed.

  “Did you go to get away from Father?” She sounded sad. As her big brother, he hated to see her upset and, even worse, be the cause of it.

  “Yes.” At the mere thought of his father, Nash’s good mood disappeared.

  “Maybe if you tried harder...”

  “Tried harder to what? Make him proud? Make him look upon me with anything but contempt? He never will, Vespa. I’ve tried and tried to please him until I’m just tired of trying anymore. He’s hated me since the day I was born, and he always will. I just…I just wish I knew why.”

  Vespa patted his hand sweetly. “Well, I love you and am proud of you, big brother. What’s Father’s problem anyway?” She laughed, trying to lighten the mood. Nash smiled in spite of himself.

  “Here we are.” Nash stopped in front of his sister’s room. “You’d better make sure you get all those leaves out of your hair before someone else sees you.”

  “Thank you, Nash.” She smiled up at him with solemn brown eyes.

  “Anytime.”

  “No, thank you for not pushing me to tell you where I’ve been.”

  “We all have our secrets, baby sister.”

  Chapter Ten

  Layla

  Layla rolled over and groaned, trying in vain to block out the bright sun streaming through her open curtain. Since she’d been up half the night talking with Wil, she’d gotten a woefully insufficient amount of sleep. Exasperated, she flung the covers over her head and buried herself deeper into the bed.

  “You need to get up, sleepy head.” Vespa’s energetic melody implied cheeriness incongruent with Layla’s level of fatigue.

  She peeked out of the covers and sighed. “Did you open my window and wake me up?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Go away.” Though Layla conveyed annoyance, Vespa simply laughed.

  “I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say, Layla.”

  At that, Layla jumped up. Her head spun with the sudden motion, but she ignored the sensation and focused instead on the Ethereal princess. “What do you mean? Did you see—”

  “Shhh.”

  Vespa leapt toward the door, taking an inordinate amount of care closing it and ensuring the lock. At the maddeningly slow pace, a scream welled up inside Layla, but she held it down. She understood the need for secrecy. They both needed to safeguard Vespa’s rendezvous with Grant. If anyone ever found out, all three of them could be in serious trouble.

  Layla waited for Vespa to perch herself on the other side of the bed. “Well? Did you see Grant?”

  “Yes, last night.”

  The questions burst out. “What did he say? How are my parents? Is Samson safe? Is Prince Vance still in charge of the kingdom and bent on killing me?”

  Vespa smoothed her dress, her calm annoying in the face of Layla’s frenzy. “You aren’t going to like what he had to say, Layla.”

  With that simple phrase, the blood rushed to the top of her head, threatening to erupt. Immediately she thought of Samson. Had he been killed in his escape attempt? Had the bash on her mother’s head proven fatal?

  “Tell me.” The command escaped in a strangled squeak.

  “I’ll start with the good news. Your parents are in a safe place, and your brother has successfully escaped from the Ecclesiastics.”

  Relief flooded through Layla. “That’s wonderful. I can leave and join them then. This nightmare might finally be over.”

  “Well, that’s the bad news.” Vespa sighed, fidgeting. “Grant says you have to stay here.”

  “What?” Layla could barely contain her outrage. “I can’t stay here. The longer I’m here, the greater the chance Wil and I are forced to marry.”

  Vespa’s brown eyes sparkled. “Would that be so bad?”

  “Yes.” Regretting her waspishness, Layla softened her voice. “Neither of us wants to marry.”

  The princess let out a strange cluck but said nothing. Layla scowled even deeper. Stay? Had Grant lost his mind? Or were he and Vespa so taken with one another that they believed in forcing relationships on others? Either way, now that she knew the Elders no longer held Samson hostage, Layla planned to escape—with or without Grant’s help.

  “Grant said you would be resistant, and I can see he was right. Listen, Layla, the Ecclesiastics have been busy proclaiming your name all over the three kingdoms and throughout the Borderlands. They’ve even forced artists to work around the clock drawing pictures of you for distribution.”

  “How? I haven’t posed for any pictures.”

  “We all know the Elder has his mysterious ways. The point is Werrick has ensured you will be found should you try to run. And if you go back to Vanguard, Prince Vance will kill you in spectacular fashion, simply to make a point to us and the Ecclesiastics. You have to stay here to protect yourself and your family. If you go to them, you will put them at risk too. Think, Layla. You know what I’m saying makes sense.”

  Furious, Layla squeezed a fistful of bed sheets to prevent herself from lashing out. She wanted to tear this room apart, stone by stone, but it wouldn’t change anything. Grant and Vespa were right. While he held Samson captive, the Elder worked hard to guarantee Layla remained a captive too. Perhaps he even knew Samson would escape. After all, Werrick had sent her brother off with no guards. The man always seemed to be two steps ahead. She growled in frustration.

  The two young women sat in silence while Layla worked to calm the furious beating of her heart. Vespa fidgeted at the end of the bed, starting to speak then closing her mouth before anything escaped. Her eyes sorrowful, the princess placed her hand on top of Layla’s in an unexpected gesture of friendship. Layla’s grip on the bed sheets loosened.

  “Would you like a tour of the castle and surrounding grounds?” Vespa’s lips pulled up into a tentative smile.

  Layla didn’t bother to hide her bitterness. “If my brother is right, I suppose I should get to know my new home.”

  Vespa smiled broadly, ignoring Layla’s peevishness. “Let’s go.”

  * * * *

  Layla squinted in the sunlight. Vespa, with a mysterious air, marched purposefully forward while Layla languished behind. The distance between the
m gave her a brief reprieve to come to terms with her predicament. Since the moment she arrived, she believed her time in Etherea would be limited, but now her assumption appeared erroneous. Rage rose within her, directed mostly at Elder Werrick. She wished she could have just ten minutes to wipe the smug smile off his round face.

  Vespa slowed, waiting while Layla caught up. “So, what do you think of my home?”

  “I like it very much.”

  All morning they’d travelled around the castle, visiting many of the shops set up within the safety of the palace walls. Vespa promised to show Layla all of Etherea one day, once the threat from Vance diminished. Despite her initial reservations about living in her enemy’s territory, Layla had to admit the Ethereal’s beauty took her breath away. Whereas the Vanguard valued function over style, the Ethereals seemed to enjoy a little of both. Most buildings mixed operation with elegant design. She liked the aesthetics of Etherea even more than her own home country.

  Though the Ethereals they encountered regarded her with interest, no one expressed any hostility. Their behavior surprised Layla. If an Ethereal like Vespa walked down a street in Vanguard, especially so close to the king’s palace, the Vanguard people would respond. However, the Ethereals’ reaction forced Layla to reevaluate her lifelong perception of these people. Had everything she’d been taught been wrong?

  “So, where are we going now, Vespa?”

  “I’m taking you to the legendary West Wall.”

  “The maze?” Layla stumbled a bit, surprised to be taken to such a secret location. Was Vespa even allowed to show her—a Vanguard—such a mysterious Ethereal landmark?

  “You’ve heard of it then?” Vespa’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

  Layla wondered again if they should even be here. “All Vanguards know of the West Wall Maze. It’s completely impenetrable.”

  Vespa nodded. “Three hundred years ago, the Ethereal king, Crazy Clovis, grew bored Altering minds the traditional way and decided to create the ultimate mind trick. He spent the next twenty-five years of his life overseeing the most complicated maze every constructed. Oh, Volton Mars would be so proud if he could hear me right now. He always says I don’t listen to his history lessons.” She smiled broadly, lighting up her whole face.

  “No Vanguard has ever successfully navigated the whole thing.” Layla recalled her own history lessons.

  “Correct. Early on, Vanguards attempted but got stuck inside the walls and were easily apprehended.”

  “If it’s so difficult to get around, how did the Ethereal guards inside manage to get the Vanguards back out?”

  “A soldier stands atop the wall.” She pointed up. Layla placed a hand above her eyebrows to block out the sun and allowed her gaze to follow Vespa’s finger. “One soldier directs the other using hand signals. Supposedly no one has the maze completely mapped—not even the guards in charge of its defense.”

  “Supposedly?” Layla echoed.

  “I may know three people who can find their way in and out.” Vespa smiled conspiratorially.

  Layla ventured a guess. “You, Wil, and Nash?”

  “We played in here all the time as children. Since this section of the castle is deemed secure, the guards only check it twice a day, and there are no defensive horns on this side of the wall. My brothers and I mapped out the whole maze, including the secondary maze of bushes at the end.”

  “Can you show me how?”

  “You want to be the first Vanguard to traverse Clovis’ maze? That crazy king might come back from the place of the First Ones and kill me where I stand if I show you his secrets.”

  “Is that a yes?” Layla laughed.

  Sighing for emphasis with a self-satisfied smirk gracing her face, Vespa motioned Layla forward. The path, which had been cobblestone before, transformed into a white stone walkway yellowed with age. Around them, ecru walls emerged, tall and lurking, until they could see nothing else. Layla squinted. The light walls magnified the sun’s strength.

  Vespa weaved expertly through the complicated corridors. When they neared what Layla assumed to be the end of the maze, the princess changed course, dragging them backward almost to the very beginning. They twisted and turned until Layla’s sense of direction and balance disappeared, leaving her lost and dizzy.

  “Is this how you escape to meet my brother?”

  Vespa looked back. “Yes.”

  “And it’s how Nash moves between Etherea and Vanguard with ease.”

  “Mmmm-hmmm.”

  After a perplexing array of identical passageways, the girls finally emerged from the white walls into yet another set of winding walks, this one created out of tall hedges.

  “I am beginning to see why no Vanguard has ever been able to make it through.”

  “It’s not difficult once you know your way.” Vespa tossed her golden hair over the shoulder just as flippantly as she dismissed Layla’s remark.

  Layla heard the sound of the River Lars, which separated the Ethereal and Vanguard borders. “We must be nearing the end.”

  “We are.”

  They emerged from the rows of bushes. After such a long journey, Layla expected some sort of magical oasis but found a long stretch of grass that led to the river instead. She frowned.

  “That’s it? I expected something more.”

  Vespa laughed. “This speck of land isn’t the prize, Layla. It’s the freedom—from our father, from our roles, from our regular lives.”

  Freedom. She longed for the illusive sentiment. If she could find a way to free herself, Layla knew she would take it without hesitation. Her baffling attraction to Nash and her budding friendships with Vespa and Wil were simply not enough to keep her here. But she also knew true freedom no longer existed for her anywhere. Her life lay before her, scripted by someone else—bound to the Ethereals, anointed by the Ecclesiastics, and hunted by her own kind. She had nowhere else to be but here, no true freedom within Etherea or Vanguard.

  “Vespa?” a male called from across the river.

  The princess squeaked in surprise while Layla reached instinctively for a sword but came up empty-handed. King Jesper didn’t trust her enough to allow her a weapon, and, even if she did have one, the Ethereal dress she now wore wouldn’t hold it.

  “Wil?” The princess bent down low, keeping quiet as she peered into the foliage. “What are you doing here?”

  Wil emerged from a tangle of bushes on the Vanguard side. After wading through the waist-high water, he crawled up the bank to stand with them. Layla studied her feet with sudden interest. Though she had spent a good portion of her night talking to the prince, his presence, now that she knew she had to stay and may have to marry him, unsettled her.

  “I’m looking for Nash. What are you two doing here?”

  “I showed Layla the maze.” Layla heard the pout in Vespa’s reply, a response to Wil’s reprimand. As a younger sister herself, she understood the dynamic.

  Her half grin vanished when a chill spread through her body, leaving the hairs on her arms standing at attention. Layla’s head snapped up. She scanned the shoreline; something felt wrong.

  “You think Nash is out here?”

  “I think so.” His face drew up in concern. “Why?”

  “All of King Jesper’s children are currently outside the castle walls, beyond the reach of functioning defense horns, and without guards. It’s a perfect ambush situation. We need to leave.” Layla grabbed Vespa’s arm and motion for Wil to follow.

  “No Vanguards ever come here.” Despite the disagreement written all over his face, he trotted behind her. “After numerous failed attempts, your people gave up.”

  “Something is wrong, Wil. Trust me.”

  Vespa clucked dismissively. “You Vanguards are always—”

  The sound of beating hooves, approaching at breakneck speed, stopped the princess in midsentence. Wil and Layla’s eyes met as they registered the situation. A group of Vanguard soldiers approached, swords drawn.

  “V
anguards have not been seen on the west side of the wall in over a hundred years. What are they doing here?” Wil whispered the words mostly to himself. He yanked his head around to face his sister, dawning befalling his features. “Vespa, take Layla back through the maze. Hurry!”

  “Come with us.” Vespa blinked back her tears, quaking. “I don’t want to leave you.”

  Wil shook his head. “We can’t engage these Vanguards inside the maze. I’ll fend them off while you two escape. Once you reach the castle, send help.”

  Vespa lifted her skirts and bolted toward the maze. “I’ll get help, Wil.”

  Layla did not follow. “I’m not leaving. I can fight, Wil. I’m a trained fighter.”

  “But you’re injured,” He furrowed his brow. She watched his internal struggle play out across his face. “Please, go with Vespa.”

  “I am a capable fighter with or without injury.”

  “I know you are. It’s just…”

  “Just what?” Her pent up anxiety exploded.

  Wil opened his mouth but close it with a snap. Layla gritted her teeth. They didn’t have time to continue this argument. If he would just give her the knife she knew he kept in his boot or the sword at his hip, she could help him fight.

  “I’ll have to perform an Alteration, Layla, and I don’t want you to see that or be caught up in it.” Remembering their conversation from the previous night, she softened. Layla knew how much he regretted being forced to use Alterations, and how much he wished to hide that part of himself from her. But if they were to be married, she needed to see every facet of his personality—especially the ability he both admired and loathed.

  “Maybe they know we are here and maybe they don’t, but those soldiers have obviously come to Etherea to kill people. Your people, Wil. As their prince, their future king, you must do what you have to do to protect them. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”