From Anastasia (The Anastasia Series Book 3)

by Jordi Burton

  Mohan nodded. “Sounds good, love.”

  “Have you seen anyone else?”

  Chris shook his head. “We found each other somewhere north of here. There was no one else around.”

  “People seem to be showing up at different times.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Hesitantly, she told them everything she knew about their predicament, about Joey’s spell, about the use of spinal fluid, and of her suspicions about the Ancients’ part to play in all of this. When she finished, they sat in stunned silence for a moment.

  Chris cleared his throat. “I’d like to see the castle.”

  “Sure,” said Anastasia.

  Though she didn’t remind him he couldn’t really see it. She wasn’t sure what good it would do him to go there, but she wasn’t about to argue.

  “If I knew what kind of spell it was, I could try and break it,” Mohan grumbled. “Do you know where Joey’s got to?”

  “I don’t.”

  Chris sighed. “If we could just find the Vatis, we could get the List and bring the Ancients together, to end this.”

  Anastasia agreed. But it seemed unlikely without any resources. What they needed was Chris’ father. He’d been looking into the Ancients, searching for a way to free his son. Unfortunately, it would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Their usual methods of communication wouldn’t work without sorcerer magic to send them, and portals were tricky without the right ingredients and incantations. Plus, it seemed to weaken Mohan more than before.

  A shout outside drew their attention. Leaping to their feet, Mohan and Vlad raced for the door. Ostana caught at Anastasia’s sleeve, holding her back.

  “You’re his godmother,” she hissed. “I need you to look after him.”

  Anastasia looked down at Aagney. She couldn’t imagine not being able to be around her own child. Her heart ached for Ostana. Nodding gravely, she met Ostana’s pained eyes. “I promise, I’ll guard him with my life.”

  Satisfied, Ostana let her go. Anastasia hurried outside. The guards surrounded a young man, holding him with their pointed sticks. Mohan and Vlad tried to break through their ranks, to no avail.

  Clarell glanced over his shoulder at Anastasia, a wicked gleam in his eye. “We caught the treasoner, Your Highness.”

  Treasoner? As Anastasia approached, she took in the figure of the young man. His silhouette was disturbed by the curve of his long black wings, obscuring his identity. She knew him to be a warrior, by the black swirls across his skin, identical to Chris’. But when he shifted, she immediately recognized him. She knew that stance. And the calm protectiveness and calculating caution emanating from him felt as familiar as her own.

  “William.”

  Anastasia pushed through the guards. As she passed, Mohan wordlessly took Aagney from her. Racing forward, she threw her arms around William. His emotions surged through her, mirroring her own. It was difficult to tell where his ended and hers began. A gasp went through the guard.

  “Your Highness,” Clarell protested. “He’s committed treason—”

  “William Dinas is an innocent man,” she said.

  Chris came around Anastasia’s side and held out a searching arm. William grasped his hand, pulling him close.

  Clarell stepped forward. “Your Highness, he’s dangerous.”

  “You and the others are relieved of your duties tonight, Master Bellvie,” Anastasia intoned.

  He looked ready to argue with her, but seemingly decided against it. Instead, he turned and motioned for the others to follow him back to their respective dwellings. Anastasia just stood in the circle of William and Chris’ arms, feeling as complete as she had in far too long. Judging by the sense of rightness flooding from them, they felt the same.

  Standing there with Mohan, Vlad, and Ostana, Anastasia watched over her small town of people. It was the best night of lost sleep she’d ever had.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I t had been a fortnight since Joey had brought them to the Old World. A little more than half of the population of Sehir had arrived in the city called Bahail, and yet Anastasia’s parents were still nowhere to be found. Anastasia felt like she was floundering. It was different, when it had just been Gerrard and the others of an age with her. But now, there were adults, people looking to her for guidance. She was just a seventeen-year-old ex-Crown Princess; she felt woefully unprepared for the task.

  She wanted, more than anything, to find someone, anyone, to help her. Her first thought was of her parents, or Valdon. She had no idea how long they would be in the Old World, which meant they needed to start preparing for the chance they were stuck here. The second option was to uncover what spell Joey had used and figure out a way to get them home. Searching for her family or the High Council would be moot if they returned home in a week and would have full communications and travel. But, if not, some decisions needed to be made.

  Which was why she found herself sitting in the old inn in town. Gerrard and the other carpenters had fixed it up rather nicely. The inside was all dark wood and stone, filled with enough worn wooden tables to seat the entire town. Sunlight filtered through the shattered windows, illuminating the layers of dust and grime.

  The twelve ancient families sat to the left side of the room, complete with William, his father, Chris, his sister, and their grandmother, Mistress Woodsman. It seemed Chris’ father hadn’t arrived, either.

  The other side of the room sat the rest of the town. Anastasia faced them from where she sat with Mohan and Aagney. Ostana and Vlad sat on opposite sides of the room, glaring at each other. Their rage at being near each other was palpable; it made the Nadmilise in the inn irritable.

  “Let’s call this town meeting to order,” Anastasia said over the din. Everyone quieted. “There are a few things we need to discuss about the running of the city. First and foremost, I want to make it clear that Prince Mohan is working day and night to find a way to break the spell that brought us here, so we may all return home.”

  Mohan gave the room a wave. Everyone just looked at him, mild hostility flashing through them. Many were wary of him, considering it was magic that brought them all to the Old World.

  “I want to be plain,” she continued. “King Tamo and the High Council removed me as the future Queen of Jacqueline. As such, I am no longer the Crown Princess. For all intents and purposes, I am the same as you all.”

  Mistress Woodsman cleared her throat. “I make a motion to reinstate Anastasia Piliar Moneth as the Crown Princess. Royal blood is in her veins, and we need a tried and true leader during these times.”

  Shock flooded Anastasia. She didn’t think anyone would support her, given her epilepsy. The High Council—the most powerful people in the realms—had removed her title. She didn’t think anyone would dare to argue against that.

  An older man at the back of the room shook his head. “Tried and true? Bah! She is but a child!”

  “She is a warrior and ruler by nature,” Mistress Woodsman argued. “I think that is the sort of leader we need during these trying times.”

  “She let a treasoner free from prison!”

  All eyes flicked to William. Dolan Dinas growled, “My son did not commit treason!”

  “Pardon me, Dolan, if I don’t readily believe you.”

  “My wife gave her life fighting alongside Princess Anastasia, fighting to free our home from the Shadows. She trusted the Princess’ rule, and so do I. I second Jelina Woodsman’s motion to reinstate her as the Crown Princess.”

  Anastasia cleared her throat, overcome by their words. “We shall put it to a vote, then. All in favor?”

  The older man at the back of the room got to his feet. “Who’s to say we even want to continue with a monarchy? What if we want something different for ourselves?”

  “Would you like a democracy, Myris?” Mistress Woodsman demanded. “You want a republic?”

  “I wouldn’t turn down the option.”

  “We don’t know how lon
g we’ll be here. Is now really the best time to destroy everything our people have known since the beginning of time? You’re talking about starting over, of foregoing the Gods and Angels, of overlooking the Book of Order.”

  Myris glowered. “It’s the only thing our people have ever known. What if we could greatly improve our world, our people?”

  “Do you really want to gamble on what ifs?”

  “Aren’t we gambling as it is, putting a child in charge? A child with a severe illness?”

  Anastasia flushed. There it was, the truth of who she was to them. Optimistically, she’d figured her people saw her as Mistress Woodsman did, as the strong, capable, natural future Queen of the Nadmilise. But the reality of it was that her people saw her as Myris did, broken, ill, inexperienced. She hung her head.

  Mistress Woodsman frowned. “She hasn’t been ill the entire time we’ve been here. And so what if she is? She is still the most capable of us all.”

  Dolan Dinas nodded. “All those in favor of reinstating Anastasia Piliar Moneth as the Crown Princess?”

  Two-thirds of the people voted in her favor; Anastasia was stunned. They wanted to not only keep the monarchy, but also keep her as their ruler? In her mind, she hadn’t truly connected with the people, at least not the way her grandmother did. But, somehow, they trusted her. It filled her with gratitude.

  “Thank you.”

  Mistress Woodsman skewered her with a look. “Lead us well, Your Highness.”

  Nodding, Anastasia cleared her throat. “Now that that’s been decided, we must discuss our next moves.”

  The people murmured their agreements.

  “We don’t know how long we’ll be here in the Old World. As such, we need to start putting down roots, in case we’re here longer that we anticipate. First, we need to instate a Guard. As most of the Royal Guard isn’t here, it will have to be on a volunteer basis.”

  William cleared his throat. “I can work with Warrior Gerris on the Royal Guard, if you’ll have me.”

  His father clapped him on the back. “I can outfit the Guard with weapons.”

  “Great,” said Anastasia. “The next thing is building the marketplace, establishing a bartering system until currency can be made, so we can turn Bahail into a functioning city.”

  “I can help with the marketplace,” said Mistress Woodsman.

  Mistress Couland, the master bottler, said, “The Mistresses and Masters can meet to discuss town necessities and report to you, Your Highness, like our own Council of Representatives.”

  Anastasia nodded. In the early days of the realms, the Representatives met with the crown face-to-face, while the cities established themselves. Now, they just sent letters to her mother, detailing the goings on in Jacqueline. She knew other realms relied on much the same system, though with governors or dukes rather than Representatives. Though it was on a much smaller scale here in Bahail, it would work well.

  “That sounds good,” said Anastasia. “But the most important thing we need to focus on is sending people in search of the High Council and Representatives. They will have the most resources, and provide guidance through our time here in the Old World.”

  Lili produced a sheet of parchment and a quill. “You may sign up here to volunteer for either the Guard or the search parties.”

  Ericcen Ros was the first to sign up for a search party, offering to go forth with his brothers to search for the members of the High Council. It didn’t surprise Anastasia; he had a protective air about him.

  Despite William naming himself a part of the Royal Guard, a number of young men and women signed up to be warriors. Never in the history of the Nadmilise had people chosen their own paths. It was exhilarating to see healers and knowledgists and tradesmen all sign up to become guards.

  Chris got to his feet. “I’d like to volunteer to search for the royal family.”

  Anastasia looked up at him. He’d gotten a haircut since arriving in Bahail, and had shaved his beard, but he still had a length of cloth tied around his eyes. He looked frail, despite the strong wings stretching from his back.

  His sister leapt to her feet. “Chris, no!”

  “I can go with Prince Vlad, seeing as he cannot travel during the day and will, therefore, be slower and more amenable to my condition. He can guide me.”

  Anastasia looked at Vlad. “What say you?”

  Vlad shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

  “He’s blind!” Alex cried.

  “His other senses have heighted since he was blinded,” Vlad explained. “He will be able to follow me without trouble when we are in the air.”

  Considering this, Anastasia looked to Chris’ family. His grandmother just pursed her lips, watching him. The woman beside her, who had to be Chris’ mother, was resigned, her bitter understanding coiled around her like a shroud. Anastasia wondered what she thought of her son’s work, of how he always seemed to be in dangerous positions. Perhaps she was used to it, as the mother of a warrior? Somehow, she didn’t think so.

  Ericcen awkwardly shuffled his feet. “I can leave at first light, Your Highness.”

  Anastasia glanced at him. “Alright.”

  The others that volunteered for search parties quickly filed out of the room. Chris remained standing, his fists clenched at his sides, while Alex stood beside him, looking close to tears.

  Alex seemed like the only one that truly grasped what these search parties meant. These people could be gone for weeks, for months, if they remained in the Old World. There was no telling what dangers they would come across, or what state the other kingdoms were in. For all they knew, they were alone here in the Old World, trapped within Joey’s spell.

  She frowned. “Christopher is a royal warrior. If he feels he is capable of searching for my family, then he may go.”

  Alex glared up at her brother, but, of course, he didn’t see her. “How could you?”

  Turning on her heel, she stormed from the inn, letting the door slam closed behind her. They all just sat in silence for a moment longer, while Chris’ mother and grandmother took his hands.

  Ryke Toldens broke the silence by approaching Anastasia. “Your Highness, I’ve volunteered to be one of your personal guards. Though I am a weapons warrior, I am more than capable of protecting you during this time.”

  She beckoned William over with a wave. He stood a few inches taller than Ryke but was slimmer than the muscular redhead. “This is William Dinas. He will be your partner.”

  “So,” Ryke mused. “You’re the infamous William Dinas.”

  William frowned. “Infamous?”

  “You bested your masters when you were only twelve-years-old. You’re the youngest warrior to have ever been accepted into the Royal Guard. Your prodigal work as a warrior is legendary.”

  Anastasia could feel the embarrassment radiating from William. But she didn’t intervene. It would do him some good to remember the kind of warrior he was, the reason she’d wanted him to be her Head Warrior all those months ago. It would do them all good to remember just who he was, to overshadow the dark accusations the Representatives had roped him with.

  “Toldens spoke highly of you, as well,” William intoned.

  Ryke nodded. “Taught me everything I know.”

  “He’s a good man.”

  As they fell to discussing shifts, Anastasia turned her attention of Myris. He stood at the back of the inn, his arms crossed over his chest. She noticed Thores was with him, radiating anger and discomfort. Something about the two of them together didn’t sit right with Anastasia, but she let it drop, knowing they needed to put aside their differences for the betterment of the people.

  When the rest of the people filed out of the inn, Lili brought the parchment of names to Anastasia. Nearly forty people had volunteered to search for the High Council and Representatives, including Ostana. They’d all selected quadrants of the ten other kingdoms, leaving Irichat gol Naingeliar for Chris and Vlad. Those that volunteered for the Guard, meanwhile, had i
ndicated their skill level next to their names. Thankfully, Warrior Gerris had offered to give lessons, to bring everyone up to speed.

  Now that the marketplace would be taken care of, and Dolan had spoken to another blacksmith about creating coin currency, it seemed life in Bahail was looking up. It filled Anastasia with warmth, that not only had her people chosen her to lead them, but that it seemed like they would succeed.

  Cradling Aagney in her arms, Anastasia followed Mohan and Lili from the inn. The realization that she was again the Crown Princess of Jacqueline, and she hadn’t had a single seizure, hit her. She stopped in her tracks and looked out at the town around them, at their ancestral home, and flooded with excited anticipation. Things were getting back on track, despite the spell.

  William bumped her with his arm. She let hers fall to her side, brushing her fingers against his. After declaring their love for each other in the Sky Temple, they hadn’t had a chance to discuss what it all meant. And then he’d been arrested. Now, since she’d sort of pardoned him, they were free to be together. At least until they returned home, and her being reinstated as Crown Princess, and William’s pardon, would disappear.

  For a moment, she considered what the people would think of her being with a man who was convicted of conspiracy to commit treason. Surely her mother could pardon him. But when she did, would the people accept him? Would they respect him as their king?

  It was then that she realized for the first time that she thought of William as the future King of Jacqueline. The thought twisted her stomach with both nerves and excitement. She’d never thought of anyone that way before, and the new emotions felt raw and all-consuming.

  And yet, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself.

  She loved him, of course. But he was the first person she’d ever courted. Outside of Aatu, but that didn’t really count, seeing as it had been an arranged marriage. With William, there were no contracts, no rules. She had no idea how to proceed. Did they hold hands? Did they go on dates? Did she sit down with his father and declare her intentions? And she was sure he wasn’t sure, either, because he’d never courted a Princess before. Somehow, everything between them had gotten seriously complicated when neither of them had been looking.