by Erin Rhew
“I’m fine.” Layla rolled her eyes and then focused them on Nash. “What are you saying?” She believed him; he could read the truth on her face, in the fierce way she set her jaw and in the flash of her purple eyes. He let out a sigh of relief, renewed by her surprising faith.
“I believe Grant is being followed.”
Realization dawned in Grant’s hazel eyes. “No, Nash, I’m not being followed. Vance ordered a group of soldiers to come investigate the West Wall today. He is determined to find a weak point in the Ethereal defenses that will allow him to defeat your people once and for all.”
“See, Nash.” Layla’s eyes lit up with delight. She traced a finger along his forearm, sending a quake up his whole arm. “It wasn’t your fault, and it wasn’t Grant’s.”
He allowed himself to show only a wan smile, though relief surged through his body with surprising force. “Well, that was exceptionally bad timing for the both of us then.”
Vespa laughed nervously. “Very bad timing.”
Grant faced Nash, his eyes imploring. “I love Vespa, Nash. I would never intentionally be callous with her life or her heart. Maybe I can prove my loyalty to your sister by providing helpful information.” Both Grant and Vespa look at him with such hope he found it impossible to refuse. Nash nodded.
Grant took Vespa’s hand before continuing. “The army is in complete disarray since Vance took over. I was able to slip away many times over the past few days to help my parents and my brother without being noticed. Besides, King Rex tasked me with monitoring the West Wall two years ago, so I can come and go from here without arousing suspicion. It’s how I met Vespa over a year ago and how I’ve been able to continue seeing her.”
Layla said, “Don’t misunderstand me, I really like Vespa, but I don’t understand, Grant. When we were little, you were the one telling Samson and me to follow the rules, to make the best choices. This,” she gestured between her brother and Vespa, “is not following the rules.”
Grant shrugged, his eyes falling upon Vespa with adoration. “Sometimes we break the rules for love.”
Nash glanced at Layla, his heart in his throat. Her sad smile, tinged with hope, shredded him. He looked away.
Layla spoke again, drawing back Nash’s attention as she always did. “I understand you feel strongly for Vespa, but you’re a Vanguard soldier. It’s what you’ve always wanted to be, how you’ve defined yourself.” Nash noticed how she ground her teeth and realized she sought to understand something that eluded her. Despite their earlier kiss, he saw that a part of Layla still clung to the old notions—the separation of Vanguard and Ethereal.
Grant held up his hand, intertwined with Vespa’s. “Not anymore, Layla. Things are not as you remember them in Vanguard. Vance threw his father in the dungeons beneath the castle and took over as king. He’s ruling alongside his mother, and they are ruthless. Right now, their top priority is killing you and continuing the war. He has offered a huge reward to the first man that brings back your head.”
Nash stiffened. In a motion too small for anyone else to detect in the darkness, he brushed Layla’s hand. She caught his fingers and squeezed.
He said, “If Vance is scouting out this area, we aren’t safe here. I’ve got to get Layla and Vespa out of here. Vance’s soldiers could be waiting to ambush us right now.”
“What about Grant?” Nash noted Vespa’s resolved posture and sighed.
“Bring him with us. We’ll hide him in the tunnels for now.” Nash glared at his sister and her lover. “Once we’ve gotten the information we need, he’ll have to go back to Vanguard and gather more.”
Nash placed his hand on the small of Layla’s back and ushered her through the maze, scanning behind him every so often to ensure that Grant and Vespa followed. He truly hoped they’d been wise to trust Grant, or else they may have just let a Vanguard spy into Etherea.
Chapter Thirteen
Wil
Wil awoke with a start when Nash, followed by Vespa and Layla, burst into his room. He took a quick glance at the window and saw no hint of light. His pulse quickened. Whatever they’d come to tell him must be important given the hour. Wil struggled to sit up, wincing when his wound pulled.
“Wil, wait.” Nash crossed the room in two strides. With his brother’s support, Wil managed to get himself into a sitting position.
“What’s going on?” he said, slightly out of breath.
Wil made eye contact with Vespa and then Layla, but they both looked away. Why wouldn’t they look at him? What was going on? Exasperated, Wil turned to his brother.
Nash blew out a breath. “Wil, we have a problem.”
“I guessed that. What kind of problem?”
“Apparently, our little sister has been secretly meeting with a Vanguard soldier.”
“What?” Wil moved to sit up straighter, but an excruciating spasm forced him back down. He panted with pain and frustration. The gash limited him, and he didn’t like being limited…especially when his family needed him.
“Wil.” Vespa rushed to his side. She sat down on the edge of his bed to take his hand into hers, but he pulled away. “Wil, please.”
“Why were you meeting a Vanguard soldier?”
“We’re in love.”
He hesitated to figure out exactly how to respond. Vespa had always been a bit naïve, and Wil feared her feelings could be one sided. What if this soldier sought to take advantage of her to gain information about the Ethereal kingdom? But the light in her eyes stopped him from voicing those concerns. She looked…happy.
Instead of saying what he wanted to say, he chose a different avenue. “Tell me you didn’t have anything to do with the attack on Layla.”
“Of course not.” Vespa huffed her displeasure.
Nash interceded, as he often did when Wil and Vespa butted heads. “We were attacked today by happenstance. Vance ordered his men to investigate the West Wall and look for weak spots. He plans to attack us soon, Wil.”
Wil shook his head to clear it. “Let’s back up. Start from the beginning, Vespa.”
“About a year ago, after an argument with Mother, I ran through the maze to the river. I felt reckless, so I went all the way down to the bank, took off my shoes, and waded into the River Lars. A few minutes later, a Vanguard soldier came by. I jumped up to run, but he vowed not to harm me. We spent the rest of the afternoon talking and agreed to meet again the next week. We’ve been meeting as often as we can since that day. I love him, Wil.”
“Vespa, you know that having a relationship with a Vanguard is punishable by death under Ethereal law.” Wil tried to convey his concern, but Vespa reared back like he’d slapped her.
“Are you going to put me to death, brother?” He couldn’t determine if she was teasing or being serious.
“Of course not, but I don’t know how Father or Mother will react.”
“They are letting you marry a Vanguard.” Vespa’s gaze fell pointedly upon Layla.
Wil glanced at his betrothed too. Her loveliness overwhelmed him as it did every time he saw her. He struggled to focus on the conversation, distracted by his attraction to her. “That’s different.”
The two siblings stared at one another, a silence falling over the room. Wil truly worried about his sister. Their father considered any fraternization with Vanguards to be an act of treason. When Wil was younger, Jesper forced him to watch the execution of an Ethereal man found guilty of having a relationship with a Vanguard woman. The man swore his allegiance to the realm, but King Jesper carried out the execution without mercy. Though Vespa was a princess, Wil wondered about their father’s reaction if he ever found out. A cold sweat broke out across his body—from his wound or from distress over his sister, he didn’t know.
Nash broke the stalemate. “Before Vance deposed him, King Rex assigned Vespa’s boyfriend to check the West Wall once a week, so the Vanguards have never truly given up on that location as we once believed. We should consider the maze compromised.”
Wil nodded, agreeing with his brother’s astute assessment. “Where is Vespa’s soldier?”
“We brought him to the tunnels,” Vespa said.
“What?” Wil sat straight up, reopening his wound. He cried out from the pain of it and fell back against the pillows. Blood seeped through his shirt.
“Wil.” Layla rushed to his side. She lifted the side of his shirt to inspect the gash with care. The stitches had torn. She furrowed her brow. “I need something to reclose this wound.”
Vespa rose and walked toward Wil’s dresser. Volton Mars had left some supplies behind, so his sister rummaged around, collecting the items Layla needed.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Vespa handed Layla a needle and some medical thread.
“I lived on a farm with two rambunctious brothers, so I have a lot of experience closing wounds on both people and animals.” She smiled confidently as she put on a pair of gloves from the dresser.
“How can I help?” Nash stood by Layla’s side.
“Hold these supplies, please.”
To clear his mind, Wil focused on Layla. She touched him with hands that were both sure and confident. As calmness settled over him, he realized she often had that effect on him. Granted, Wil did not have extensive experience with relationships nor did he know Layla very well, but he desired to make her happy, as she made him.
“I’m going to start now. Try to relax.” Layla pressed down on his shoulder, the material from the glove rough against his skin. Her touch made him wonder what it would be like to feel her actual skin against his when a sharp coldness on his wound interrupted his thoughts.
Wil sat back and closed his eyes as Layla cleaned the area and began to close it. He tried to keep still despite the intense pain. Her gloved hands worked quickly and efficiently, but he needed a distraction.
“Talk to me, please.” He forced out the words through clenched teeth, not even bothering to hide the desperation.
She cleared her throat. He couldn’t see her face, but a dreamlike quality accompanied her story. “On my family’s farm in Vanguard, we had a huge blue barn behind our house.” She laughed lightly. “I never understood why my father painted it blue, of all colors. Anyway, my brothers and I climbed into the hay loft to eat some cinnamon bread we’d gotten the day before on King’s Day. My more adventurous brother, Samson, dared me to jump from the hayloft onto the back of one of the horses gathered below us. When I refused, he called me a chicken and leapt straight down himself. He landed in the saddle but pitched over backward when the horse took off. By the time my other brother, Grant, and I got to him, Samson’s forehead had begun to bleed profusely. I sewed it up as quickly as I could, using some old supplies we dug out of a nearby shed. It’s a miracle Samson didn’t get a terrible infection.”
Wil smiled to himself. In the library, on the night she first came to Etherea, he’d asked Layla to tell him about her family, but she’d refused. Her willingness to share such a personal story with him now touched him in a way he couldn’t describe. He believed something significant had changed between them since then, and despite the agonizing burn from the needle going in and out of his skin, he felt content.
“I guess you should tell Wil the whole truth about the soldier in the tunnels.” Vespa interjected herself into the conversation, interrupting Wil’s pleasant thoughts.
His eyes twitched behind his closed eyelids. “What about him? There is more to the story?”
Layla let out a nervous laugh. “Well, to make matters even more complicated, the soldier Vespa has been meeting is my brother Grant.” He could just imagine her sheepish grin and pink cheeks.
Wil didn’t know what to say, so he nodded slightly to indicate he’d heard and understood, afraid to move too much and disturb her. When he finally opened his eyes, he noticed Nash watching Layla intently. When he noticed Wil’s scrutiny, Nash averted his gaze. Did his brother actually look guilty? Wil dismissed the thought, chalking it up to pain induced delusions.
“So, we have an enemy soldier in the tunnels who just so happens to be Layla’s brother and Vespa’s suitor?” Wil repeated the information to be sure he got it right.
“Correct.” Layla laughed again in that uneasy yet endearing way. “I’m finished closing the wound.”
Wil relaxed, surprised to discover how tense he’d been while she worked. “When you are finished dressing the spot, I want to go see the soldier.”
“I don’t think you should get up.” Vespa peered over Layla’s shoulder. Her lip turned up at the sight of Wil’s wound.
“I’m fine. Layla has done a wonderful job fixing me back up. I need to see this Grant because he may have useful information about Vance. With King Rex deposed, there is no telling what his son means to do.”
“Grant does know things about Vance, and he’s willing to share that information. He loves me, Wil. You’ll see.”
“I’ll talk to Grant.” Nash stepped forward. “You gather your strength, Wil. I think we’ll need it in the coming days.”
Wil wanted to argue but realized the wisdom behind his brother’s words. The effort he would expend getting down to the tunnels would compromise his recovery. With someone as unscrupulous as Prince Vance at the head of the Vanguard army, Wil needed to be back on his feet, ready to fight, as soon as possible.
Vespa took a deep breath. “We already know that Prince Vance plans to kill Layla to avoid making peace. He wants to continue the war.”
Wil looked up at Layla, who still sat beside him. She met his gaze, her face determined and brave. She’d never looked more beautiful.
“We’ll keep you safe here, Layla.” He vowed, sinking deeper into her eyes’ purple abyss.
“I know.” Her smile dazzled him. “You stay here and rest. Nash, Vespa, and I will talk to Grant and learn all we can about Prince Vance’s intentions. We’ll figure it out, Wil. I know we will.”
He returned her smile. “I trust you, Layla.”
Chapter Fourteen
Layla
Layla stared out the window, eyes glazing over at Volton Mars’ latest lesson. From this spot, she’d watched autumn turn to winter and then winter to spring. She wondered about Samson as her gaze fell upon the River Lars. High up in the eastern castle tower, she could almost see into Vanguard. Was her brother still in their homeland? If not, where had he gone? For as long as she could remember, when she moved, Samson moved alongside her, an invisible string connecting them. Now, he’d simply vanished like a vapor in the wind. His absence profoundly affected her, though she tried not to show it. While she trusted his strength and wit, his mouth often got him in precarious, even dangerous, situations. Would they ever see one another again?
If only Grant would give her a clue as to Samson’s whereabouts…but he kept his stubborn mouth shut. Layla knew he met with Nash at least once a week to exchange information about Vance’s movement, and even to provide updates on her parents, yet never did Grant breathed a word about their lost brother. She pursed her lips as a fresh wave of anger, pain, and sadness coursed through her.
She snuck a peek at Nash, who sat in rapt attention as Mars droned on about the invention of weaponry. A familiar twinge stabbed her stomach before flittering away. While she didn’t like the idea of Nash, or her brother, risking their lives to thwart Vance’s plans, she recognized the necessity. The Vanguard usurper’s schemes proved unsuccessful so far, thanks to Grant’s reports and Nash’s strategizing. Still she worried for their safety, especially since her brother noted Vance’s increased paranoia. She’d already lost one brother and refused to lose another. As for Nash…though she dreamed, and daydreamed, about her kiss with him, he never made a motion to repeat it, keeping her at arm’s length.
“That’s all for today.” The Volton’s announcement brought her back from her thoughts.
Vespa raced for the door, her glee infectious. “Thank the First Ones.” Mars chuckled.
Wil slipped up beside Layla. “The weather is a bit cooler than normal
today. Would you still be up for a walk after your sparring lesson?”
She ducked her head, smiling beneath her veil of hair. “I would enjoy a walk.” Their daily walk, a staple in her life for months now, anchored Layla in this unsteady world. In the midst of chaos, Wil remained calm and sure.
A bright smile illuminated his whole face before he followed his sister out the door. Nash waited beside her, his gaze touching her face like a finger tracing her cheek. Despite her resolve to stay aloof, she blushed.
He picked up two swords from a table near the door. “Ready to spar?”
She grabbed a weapon from his hand. “I’m always ready to spar.”
* * * *
Layla bent over, panting. Nash’s sword fighting abilities exceeded all other Ethereals, and even a few Vanguards. They worked outside in the courtyard daily to keep sharp, to be prepared for any attack Vance mounted. With Nash as a sparring partner, Layla’s skills improved more than she believed possible. She knew she could battle even the toughest Vanguards now, yet nothing happened to test her.
“Why do you think Vance hasn’t attempted an attacked recently?” Layla posed the question to Nash as they walked back toward the castle.
“I don’t know. Grant said that Vance was having trouble garnering the support of his people. Maybe that’s why.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t just kill King Rex outright. Doesn’t the fact that he’s alive, locked away in the dungeons, give those loyal to Rex hope of freeing him one day?” She paused. “Not that I want Rex killed.”
“Vance is in a tricky position. If he kills his father, the people will revolt against him. King Rex is well loved, as I’m sure you know, but at the same time, you are correct. By keeping Rex alive, those loyal to him may attempt a rescue.”
“I wish someone would rescue King Rex. I only met him once, but he seemed to support the idea of peace. Can you imagine a world where Ethereal and Vanguards are free to live their lives without the threat of constant war?”
