Arrival of the Rifted (The Rifted Series Book 1)

by C. C. York

  "Of course I have! All the more reason I have to find her! She was out that night because of me." The fountains around her study threatened to overflow, but her brothers, fortunately, said nothing at her flared Dua. She rubbed her hands over her face, eschewing the dark charcoal eye makeup the interloper her mother sent as her maid did that morning.

  Taavi asked, “What if they’re trying to use Shauna as bait to get to you? Have you considered that? She might not even be alive, Alik.”

  Every muscle tensed, and it took Alik a few moments not to shove every scrap of Dua she had at him. “Do not say that. She is alive. And I will find her.”

  “How, Alik?” He asked, arms crossed.

  “I don’t know. But I know this: I’ve doubted myself every step of my life, but there is no room for doubt when it comes to finding her and the others. So either help me or get out of my way.”

  She headed for the door, "I'll meet your Eye in a few hours, Damari.” Nodding once, “Taavi."

  She stalked out of the room before she could embarrass herself with more tears. She knew she needed sleep, but guilt kept her from even trying. She glared at a woman in a bright yellow sari trilling with laughter at another Pillar in the hall. I just need a place where there aren’t packs of courtiers milling about to think. If word got out that this many Efendian Daughters are missing, no one cares. The laughter and gossip in the Atrium made Alik want to shatter every window above their heads.

  She found herself weaving through the orchards that she and Shauna walked through on First Night. She made her way to the hearth of Ates at the far end. No guards stood at the stone arch leading to the hidden passageway, but that was to be expected, given it was still daylight. She leaned back against its cold stone and breathed a sigh of relief at the thick shade the canopy provided above. She half-closed her eyes when she saw the figure.

  The rudimentary offering was tucked away in the corner of the grove in the underbrush. Even from this distance, the shape felt off. Alik didn't need to get closer, though, to know it was an offering to the Edicisi. The reeds tied together and painted black formed a small doll with its arms held out to a T and its head bowed. Dark red liquid filled the cup next to the effigy.

  Alik shuddered when she picked it up, and the dark gaping mouth from her dreams flashed before her eyes.

  You're ridiculous, Alik. It's just a pile of straw. Damari’s suggestion that Rifters could be back echoed in her mind once more. It’s Hasateen. Some child from the Palace is likely playing pranks. But why here? Hardly anyone comes to this end of the orchard any more. She eyed the dark red liquid again. That’s harder to explain if it’s real.

  Only the very desperate openly worshiped the Edicisi and his Handmaidens, and an insult like this within the Palace walls was akin to poking a Garfu in the side. The effigy could be overlooked as a Hasateen prank. She sniffed the cup and shivered again. Blood. The cup for a Handmaiden Rifter is a death sentence, though.

  At least a dozen people in the Palace knew of this passageway, but Alik couldn't help but remember how they'd taken Agnian here just a few days before. It still doesn’t make any sense why someone would leave an offering here of all places—let alone a Dvarian.

  What if the Dvarians are trying to contact a Rifter? What if they already have? Goddesses, I’m losing my mind if that’s where my search has turned.

  "Filb it. I've got time." She tugged the lever behind Ates and walked down the stone passageway.

  ***

  Alik intended to wait at the base of the stairwell to confirm that Agnian used it to sneak out of the Palace. Patience had never been a strength of hers, which is how she ended up walking through the Trades again, scanning auras in hopes of finding something. Anything.

  “I’d kill for the breeze the Airwerkers push through the Palace right now,” Alik muttered to herself as she unstuck the sweaty veil plastered to her face.

  She walked past a stall selling honeyed Kingalia meat when she felt eyes on her. Spinning around, she scanned the sea of people bumping around her but found no telling black or gray swirls. She couldn't shake the feeling that someone watched her. Taavi’s suggestion that the kidnappers meant to take her came to mind again. I’ll come back with one of Damari’s Eyes.

  She aimed for the busy, guarded staircase a few streets past the hidden one she took down. I could shout, but that would only give the vying houses another reason to push me off the throne. She is the daughter of the most notorious Pillar in Efendian history. Mother would rather see me dead in an alley than beg for aid from a merchantress in the Trades. She tripped over a metal cup at the edge of the Tier and dark red liquid pooled out at her feet, flaring her Dua in alarm involuntarily.

  What in the Ates?

  Blood iced in her veins when she lifted her eyes to the crowd. A tall figure cloaked in black stood still in the river of people several paces ahead. She couldn't get a good look at his face, but pitch-black mist engulfed the space where he stood.

  Alik ducked into the nearest alley. She blinked rapidly to clear her eyes, praying to Ates that a flame was nearby. She was marginally adept at Firewerk and could use it for self-defense if left no other choice. Colorful lanterns floated above the alley like a carpet of rainbow glass. She sprinted down the narrow passage, frantically pushing locked doors on either side to find a hiding place. The path curved, and she suddenly found herself at a dead end. The deep violet-colored lanterns above blocked out most of the sun. Alik yanked the veil off her face to see her attacker better as footsteps thundered from around the bend in the alley.

  Bird calls echoed around her, and the same gaping wide mouth from her dreams flashed in Alik's mind. Laughter rang throughout the alley, but it reverberated so much that Alik wondered if she imagined it instead. A firm grip grabbed her from behind, and a hand muffled her scream.

  "Shh, Alik, it's me." A whisper of scruff brushed her jawline and the patch of skin below her ear. She stopped struggling at Agnian's voice. "Quickly, through here."

  He shoved open the last door, hugging Alik to his chest to conceal her face. She glimpsed several men seated at a couch beneath scantily clad women and bare-chested men through the corner of her eye. Agnian picked up a thick bottle of wine with a broad base, obscuring her view further.

  "I'll take thissa one," he slurred, stumbling but never letting Alik stand fully. Someone close to her mumbled a response, and a bag of coins jingled as Agnian tossed it over her shoulder. He swayed, dragging her left and right down a dark hallway lit only by candles. They abled through, his heart thudding wildly under her cheek. Panic pulsed her Dua; her eyes focused and refocused over and over in the dark hallway.

  Alik flushed at the naked flesh inside several open doorways as they passed. "Almost there," Agnian breathed in her hair.

  Voices up ahead of them, arguing in whispers. "How could you let her slip?"

  "I wasn't sure it was her!"

  "Do you know what this means? He'll kill us if he finds out we let her go when she was right there."

  "She has to be here somewhere. There's nowhere else to go."

  The men ran towards them. Agnian shoved Alik through the closest open doorway into an empty room. He pushed her on the bed, his heavy muscular body pressing down on hers while his hand tugged up her thigh before she even processed what was happening. She shoved at him with a cry at her lips when he covered her mouth again with his hand. The sharp tang of metal from his rings danced over her tongue, his dangling silver necklace pooled into a cold mound over her chest.

  His eyes did not waver from hers when he said, "I need you to trust me, or we are both dead."

  She barely finished her nod before he pressed his lips against hers. She'd been kissed by courtiers before, small wet pecks and hard, distracted tongues. This was demanding and something entirely different. Full lips, intense and not nearly enough at the same time, moved on hers, and all thoughts fled. He cradled her head in his palm, pulling her halfway on top of him with h
er back to the door. Her right leg straddled him, the slit of her lightweight dress shoved wide so that every inch of her touched Agnian.

  The door burst open, its thud a crash of glass to Alik's emptied mind. Agnian kept Alik's head to him, facing the opposite wall. He roared out, "What in the Atessake am I paying for? Shut the filbish door!"

  Someone muttered before shutting the door. Agnian held Alik still for a moment more and then, without looking at Alik in the eyes, untangled himself and was off the bed, ear pressed against the door. She had yet to move from the bed. That is what a kiss is supposed to feel like?

  Her mind had yet to come up for air when he hissed, "What are you doing? Let's go!"

  Flustered and mortified, she stood and adjusted herself. Agnian glanced at her wide eyes while she fumbled with her veil. A brush of impatient air and his fingers reattached the hooks near her temples. His eyes caught hers for a moment before he said, "Please tell me that wasn't your first kiss."

  Alik shoved at him, "No. Not really. At least—Ruzgar bless. Can we get out of here?"

  I will beat that smirk off his face, she thought as he stuck his head out the door. After a few more minutes of fumbling through the dark, they came to a guarded doorway. Alik kept focused on the jade tile floor while Agnian exchanged some unintelligible pleasantries. They stepped into the main corridor of the Trades, quickly getting swept into the throng of people unconcerned with the life-altering kiss she just had.

  He gripped her hand as they strode through the crowd. He’s heading for the ferry launch, she thought in a panic. She pulled his hand. "I can't. Not yet."

  His eyes searched hers. He nodded once, pulling Alik instead up the stairs above the Trades that ran alongside the floating boats. He stopped a few Tiers below the Palace and spoke Dvarian to a waiter setting up tables at a tiny cafe at the edge of the Tier. Alik's body sank in the wooden chair, and she watched the sun begin its slow descent behind the Magarans as the drumbeats for Hasateen began far below.

  They didn't speak until the waiter left them with the food and wine. Their chairs aimed towards each other, lovers to anyone else, but Alik bristled inside for a fight. Anything to keep her mind off that kiss.

  Focus, Alik, there is much more at stake.

  "What was that place?" She asked.

  He looked at her flatly. "The Lantern Pit is notorious throughout lands beyond even Efendi. It's a maze within the Trades where anything can be purchased with discretion."

  She remembered the girl younger than Damari at the edge of a bed they'd passed at the end, eyes dead, holding herself.

  "Firtina will never let this stand. There was a girl---"

  He snapped, "There are hundreds of girls, and hundreds of boys, too. Open your eyes, Alik. Efendi is the biggest importer of flesh. Most of those women and men were sold as children stolen from their homes in lands beyond your borders. Who do you think sanctions it?"

  Alik pushed away the bread that turned to sponge in her throat, shaking her head.

  "You’re blinded by whatever grudge you carry against my family. Just because your people don’t like our involvement in Dvarian affairs doesn’t mean we’re evil.”

  Agnian looked like he was going to chew on his own broken teeth. He clenched the fork in his hand as he ground out, “And you are an idiot if you think your involvement in my country’s affairs is anything short of evil. No wonder you are too blind to see why your Efendian girls are disappearing.”

  Alik reared back as if slapped; the candles at the edge of the Tier flickered higher. He does know something. The scrape of chairs and distant conversations faded. And that is the only reason why I should not shove him off the Tier with an Airwerk. Or a chair.

  Perhaps sensing her murderous thoughts, Agnian held up his hands placatingly and said, “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. I rarely keep a level head while discussing Efendi’s actions in my kingdom.”

  He huffed out a breath and ran his hands along his stubble before saying, “I don’t think you are your mother. Or grandmother.”

  No one does. I am as far from the powerful women in my family as one could be, Alik thought, tracing the edges of the soft linen napkin in her lap.

  Agnian reached across and grabbed her hand. “No, Alik. That is a compliment. To be honest, I’d never met an Efendian that I liked until you. You and I want the same thing.”

  Alik tamped down the traitorous thrill running through her and focused on more important matters. She pulled her hand from his warm palm and reached for her wine. “And what is that?”

  “To find who is responsible for your missing girls.”

  She stilled, the wine glass hovering at her lips. This is it. "What do you know about the missing Daughters?"

  He pulled a small leather book, curved from its life in a back pocket, from his leather pants. Scrawled names in columns. "One hundred and twenty, yes?"

  "One hundred and twenty-three," she allowed.

  "I know that the kidnapper is looking for specific abilities," he said. "And since the latest missing girls are more high profile, I believe they are looking for someone in particular who has been hiding. We believe the kidnappings will only stop once they've found whomever they are looking for."

  “The men that chased me in the Trades. They felt---off,” Alik said, fumbling for how to explain without disclosing her ability to read auras. “Are they the ones kidnapping my countrywomen?”

  “I was following one of Canavar’s men to find that out until I had to stop and save your life. Why would you come here, of all places anyway, with no protection? Or do you frequent these halls?”

  She ignored his questions, focusing instead on his admission. Loyalty to the Iktidar line was never a choice for Alik; straying from its harsh line felt akin to wandering the valley below unarmed and alone. Her role was to make sure Efendians knew the Iktidar family was unwavering in its responsibilities as protectors of the realm. It also meant that the other kingdoms must never glimpse their weaknesses.

  What will you do when she dies, Alik? She cast that constant companion aside.

  "Why would a Dvarian dig so far into an Efendian matter? What is in it for you?" She asked, keeping her voice low. Tell me why you’re really here.

  He laughed—a cold, harsh sound lost to the air cooling rapidly with the moonrise. "That's your concern? Now I understand how you can be content to sit at the negotiation table while your best friend is still missing."

  Alik straightened, anger and embarrassment and incredulity raging across her face again. I would give anything to find Shauna. Including maiming this man if I must to find out what he knows.

  He continued before she could argue, leaning into her space over the bistro table, "The problem with Efendians is that you never leave your borders. You have no idea what ramifications this has across our world. What it could mean."

  What? She quickly scanned him with a glance of Dua, not caring if he noticed how her pupils dilated in and out. Frustrations of orange, flares of red hate, and bright yellow incredulity mixed together, but no lies. "Tell me what it means then, Agnian. What do you know?"

  He rubbed his hands over his face; silver rings catching in the candlelight dancing in glass on the Tier edge. Small, black tattoos etched the edges of his fingers, symbols unfamiliar to Alik. He looked at her, gaze unflinching.

  "Trade me a truth, Alik. I'll tell you what I know if you answer me honestly." At her wary nod, "Do you think Firtina is doing anything about the missing girls?"

  The lie was halfway out of her mouth when she shut it. She had no reason to trust this man and every reason to listen to the lessons of obedience and loyalty drilled into her since birth. But it’s Shauna missing. And I’ve failed the others long enough. A beat, and a few words shifted her place in this world: "No. I know she is not doing anything to find them."

  He nodded grimly. "We believe Firtina is not only doing nothing to find them, but she is the one sanctioning their kidnappings."
>
  That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard since Damari suggested Rifters were involved.

  Alik scoffed, "You are a fool then. Firtina is many horrible things, but she would never do anything to make the Iktidar line vulnerable. The Elite will eventually open their eyes. When they realize how many girls are missing under our protection, they will challenge our claim to the throne for the first time in decades.” She sipped the wine in her hand, still shaking her head, "No. You are wandering down a path with no destination."

  He crossed his arms, leaning back against the wooden chair. "Then tell me: Where does your mother go when she leaves in the middle of the night for days on end? What would make the Magarans stop their patrols of your skies? Surely you must have questioned this yourself."

  Alik’s mouth gaped. "I knew you were terrible at politics, Agnian, but I didn't realize you were foolish enough to blatantly tell me you had spies in Efendi." She stood from the table, the chair grinding loudly against the stone, "We're done here unless you have something tangible I can use to find my best friend and my people."

  He grabbed her, a plea and a command tied together around her wrist. "You can disregard me, but are you willing to forgo a chance to find your friend? Your mother knows something. We know the Canavar Company is behind this, but they could not do this on their own. Someone is helping them, and we believe it is Queen Firtina."

  “How do you know the Canavar Company has their hands in this? We have spies in among their ranks, but despite my suspicions, I haven’t been able to prove anything.”

  “It isn’t company-wide. My sources believe only a handful of Hvard’s most trusted men are behind this, and I doubt a newcomer in the ranks would be privy.”

  “Who are your sources?” She asked.

  “That is none of your concern.”

  “My concern is for my best friend. For the missing girls. Any information is relevant, particularly if I am to believe your ridiculous claim that my mother is involved.”