by Kara Jaynes
Adaryn turned her glower to Aaric but then nodded. “Fine.”
“I’ll leave in a couple of days and scout the surrounding countryside,” Bran said. He shot a sly look in Adaryn’s direction. “Adaryn can come with me.”
“Not a chance,” Aaric said angrily. “If she goes, we all go.”
“It doesn’t make sense for you to go,” Bran said mildly. “You can’t use magic.”
“I’m staying with Aaric, Bran,” Adaryn said firmly. “Why don’t you see what you can find out and come tell us? There isn’t any point in all of us going until we know where the outlaws can be found.”
“I’m going to work with the Scholar’s Guild,” Aaric said. “If they’re interested in purchasing my glider plans, that could help us financially. More than selling our pride as street performers, anyway.”
Bran flushed angrily and opened his mouth to speak but Adaryn interrupted them. “It’s settled, then. Bran will track down the hideout of the brigands to see if they are led by a magic user named Fyrsil, and Aaric will talk with the Scholar’s Guild and see if he can buy us more time in the city.”
“What are you going to do?” Bran asked her.
“Take lessons from king Matias. And to make sure Grace stays away from Aaric,” she said, folding her arms determinedly.
Bran laughed at her, earning a scowl. Aaric managed to hide his smile just in time. Miss Grace had better make herself scarce.
22
Adaryn
“You can make plants grow using magic?” I asked in amazement. I was crouched over a little red flower that was looking decidedly wilted from the heat. King Matias and I were in the garden again. Bran had left over a week earlier. The Scholar’s Guild received Aaric and his glider plans with open arms, giving him funds to work on another invention he’d drafted plans for back in Ruis. That left me alone with decidedly little to do. This was my third visit since the night he was ambushed. He seemed to enjoy my company or I wouldn’t have bothered him so much. I had yet to make much progress in my healing lessons, though.
“Of course,” Matias said. “It’s too hot to grow this many flowers naturally. I suppose some would call it a waste of magic, but I would miss the greenery too much otherwise.”
“Can you show me?” I asked eagerly.
Matias looked down at me intently, his blue eyes piercing. He looked amused. “Watch closely.”
Matias stood perfectly still, taking deep breaths. I felt the magic surge from him, saw thin tendrils of the magic emanate from his body. The magic wove itself around every flower, tree, bush and blade of grass. It was incredible. I’d never seen enchantment this complex or powerful. Bran was the most powerful magic user I knew and this made his ability look like child’s play.
A few more moments passed before Matias released the magic. It dissipated almost immediately. I looked down at the little red flower. It was in full bloom, without a trace of wilt. I stared up at the king, speechless with wonder. He laughed.
“It’s just a flower, Adaryn.”
“How can you be so powerful? I tried to follow what you did, but I’m not capable of wielding that much magic at once.” Matias merely smiled, pleased by my awe. He started to turn away.
“Matias,” I said. He requested I call him by his first name. “In private we may speak to one another as friends,” he had said during our first meeting. “Why are the people upset with you?”
I regretted asking the minute the words left my lips. As he looked back at me, a look of pain crossed his face and he sighed heavily.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to ask uncomfortable questions. I—”
“No, it’s alright. You may ask me anything.” Matias seated himself on a white stone bench, motioning me to sit beside him. I did so.
“People are upset with me, and rightly so. Brigands roam the surrounding countryside unchecked and, for the most part, unchallenged. I have sent as many soldiers as I can spare, but the outlaws are wily and fight like lions. Taxes have had to be raised to pay for the additional resources needed to track down the brigands. It’s not an ideal situation, but I don’t see any alternative. The brigands must be stopped.”
I nodded, my brow wrinkling in thought. I wasn’t sure of any alternatives, either. “I wonder if Fyrsil is behind this.”
Matias looked at me, his eyes widening in alarm. “Fyrsil? What do you know of him?”
I looked up, surprised by his reaction. “Not much. A friend of mine heard some . . . some rumors that he might be leading the outlaws, that he was their leader several years ago . . .” I trailed off, intimidated by Matias’ stare. He looked shocked to his core, but I couldn’t tell why.
“And what do you think happened to this Fyrsil?” Matias asked.
I shrugged. “He may have died. I can’t imagine the life of a brigand is very peaceful. Or he’s still out there, looting the countryside as we speak. I don’t know.”
“Do you have any interest in finding him, then?”
I looked at him, considering. How far could I trust this man? He smiled warmly. “Your secrets are safe with me, Adaryn.”
“I . . .” I hesitated a moment before rushing in. “We think the outlaws have something we need. An artifact of sorts. We need it to protect our clan up north. From the Oppressors. They’ve taken too many of us as slaves. We heard that Fyrsil might have it.”
“I see.” Matias nodded. “And you think this . . . artifact, this arcane enchantment . . . will grant you adequate protection?”
“If the legends are true, it will,” I said with certainty.
Matias was quiet for some time. “If this artifact is giving the brigands an unfair advantage over my men,” he said at last, “then it seems that it would be to my advantage if you were to take it.”
My breath quickened with excitement. The king was on my side?
“You wouldn’t use this artifact against my subjects?” Matias looked at me again, his eyes hardened steel.
I swallowed. “Of course not.”
He nodded. “My men have heard rumors of a brigand hideout in the abandoned ruins of Tyrko, just west of the city. They still haven’t managed to find it, though. You probably haven’t been there, but the ruins are massive. But perhaps you and your friends will have better luck.”
I grinned, and bowed my head in gratitude. “Thank you,” I said happily. “I will be sure to tell my friends. We will do what we can to find the artifact, Matias. I am certain that if they have it, it must be what is giving the brigands the upper hand.”
Matias nodded his head and smiled, but his eyes looked distant. “Did you know Fyrsil?” I asked timidly.
“I knew of him. It was a long time ago.” He stood. “I must return to the palace. Good day, Adaryn. I hope you will come again.” He walked off without another word or look in my direction.
I studied his retreating form with some confusion, not sure what had come over him, then wrapped my arms around myself in a hug, excited. If Matias was right, then it was only a matter of time before we found the brigands and, I hoped, the sky jewel.
23
Aaric
There. Aaric put the last wire in place, smiling in satisfaction. He started work on the plans months ago, and had used the past week to put it together. It was a more . . . violent invention than the glider to be sure, but if used correctly it could serve a very practical purpose. He just needed to find a way to test it now without blowing himself to smithereens.
“Once again, you astound me.” An older gentleman with a graying mustache leaned over Aaric’s shoulder, observing his work. “Absolutely astounding.”
“Thank you, sir,” Aaric said. The man was Sirius Archer, the president of the Scholar’s Guild. Luna had introduced him at Aaric’s request. Sirius had shown immense interest in the glider plans and was showing equal interest in Aaric’s current project.
“Is this one ready, then?”
“It’s close,” Aaric said. “It still needs a little testing, bu
t I’m confident it will work.” He stood, leaving his project on the table.
“If this one is successful, I think we could find some use for it right away,” Sirius remarked, still eying the contraption with interest.
“Use for it, sir?” Aaric asked. “In what way?”
Sirius smiled, but said nothing more on it. He waved Aaric away. “It’s getting late. Adaryn will probably come looking for you soon.”
Aaric nodded. She often did if he worked past dinner. “I’d better be going then,” he said.
He gave his farewell, and left. Walking down the busy streets, he idly wondered what Sirius had planned.
“Hey.” Bran separated himself from the crowd, matching Aaric’s stride.
“You’ve been gone awhile,” Aaric remarked. “Did you find the elusive Fyrsil, or a brigand lair?”
“Nothing,” Bran growled. “Not so much as one blasted footprint.”
“You tried hunting them with magic, I presume.”
“I tried everything,” Bran sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I tried tracking them, hunting with magic; I even asked some locals if they had seen any brigand activity lately.” He laughed. “They weren’t too keen on answering those questions, the suspicious louts. Must have thought I was one of them.”
Arriving at the Dancing Cat, they seated themselves at a table in the common room, just in time for dinner. A few minutes later and the men were eagerly tucking into savory roast beef, baked potatoes and bread. Bran scarfed the food down like it was his last meal.
“You ate while you were out, right?” Aaric laughed.
“The occasional rabbit and any wild roots I found,” he said, reaching for another bread slice.
“Bran!”
Adaryn hurried over from the stairs, and sat next to him with a smile. “Did you find anything?”
“No,” Aaric said for him, as Bran’s mouth was full of beef. “He wasn’t able to find anything.” He tried to keep the disappointment from showing on his face. “I guess this means there isn’t a brigand leader and his sky jewel out there for us to find.”
“I wouldn’t count on that just yet.” Adaryn turned to face him, her eyes sparkling in the firelight.
“What do you mean?” Bran asked.
Adaryn looked around the common room, suddenly wary. It was too packed and noisy for anyone to overhear, Aaric guessed, but the nomad was clearly uncomfortable. “Both of you finish your food and meet me upstairs in my room,” she said, standing. The two men shared a confused stare as she left but didn’t comment on it.
Bran managed to shovel down three heaping plates of food before staggering upstairs to Adaryn’s room, Aaric following. Adaryn was pacing her room, and motioned them to both sit on the bed while she took the small chair.
“So what’s up?” Bran asked.
“Tyrko Ruins is up,” she said excitedly. “Did you have a chance to search them, Bran?”
Bran barked a short, humorless laugh. “Have you seen them, Adaryn?” he asked. “You could hide a city in there. I scanned the edges, but there’s no way I’d be able to conduct a proper search of them. Not alone, anyway.”
“That’s where we need to go,” she said determinedly. “The outlaws are there, I’m sure of it.”
Aaric tilted his head, puzzled. “What makes you so sure, Adaryn?”
Adaryn’s mouth snapped shut and she fidgeted a little. “Oh. Well. Just rumors. In the city.”
“Adaryn,” both men said simultaneously.
“Fine.” She glowered at the two of them. “King Matias told me.”
“What?” Bran blurted out. Aaric stared at her, aghast.
“Well, why not?” she said defensively, heat rising to her face. “He’s a friend of mine, and he has an incentive to get rid of the brigands, does he not?”
Bran put his face in his hands. “Adaryn.” He sounded strangled. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“And why should I be?” She was offended. Aaric could hear it in her voice and her face was red. “I didn’t initially plan to tell him about our quest but it just slipped out, and good thing it did.” She filled both men on her most recent discussion with the king.
“Hmm.” Bran rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I can’t say I’m entirely thrilled about getting him mixed up in all of this, but he does have a motive to help us.”
“True,” Aaric said.
“When do we leave?” Adaryn asked.
Aaric eyed her dubiously. “Perhaps it would be better for you to stay here,” he said, thinking of the fight they had with the brigands before arriving at the city. “It will be dangerous.”
Adaryn rolled her eyes at the same moment Bran laughed. “She fights better than you do.”
Aaric split his glare between the two nomads who unapologetically grinned back. He sighed. “Fine.”
“Let’s leave tomorrow,” Bran said. “I’ll have the cook put together some proper rations for us tonight.”
After he left, Adaryn went to sit on the bed next to Aaric. He put his arms around her, drawing her close to him, breathing in her woodsy scent.
“I hope we find it.” Adaryn’s voice was muffled against his chest. “I want to get this over with.”
“Me, too.” Aaric ran his hand up and down Adaryn’s back. “I don’t know if we’ll find this Fyrsil in my father’s notes, but we’ll at least find out if the brigands have something that is giving them the edge. It would explain why King Matias’ guards haven’t been able to do much to stop them.”
Adaryn was silent, her arms wrapped around Aaric’s waist. Aaric hoped his worry hadn’t shown in his voice. If they didn’t find the brigand leader, he wasn’t sure what to do next, if there was anything they could do.
24
Adaryn
“I like Sen Altare better than Ruis,” I said to Aaric as we rode side by side. It was the first overcast day since arriving at Sen Altare, and it looked like it might rain. Bran took the lead, riding Star and scanning the land as he always did. We were nearing the end of our first day of travel, and Bran said we were getting close to the ruins. He always took the lead. He didn’t want to be ambushed. “Still too crowded for me, but it’s cleaner, the people stay out of your business and there’s no slavery.”
“That’s true,” Aaric said absently. He was only half listening. The man was reading another book.
“How are you liking the Scholar’s Guild?” I tried switching subjects for the fourth time, attempting to engage in some conversation.
“We’re here,” Bran called from ahead.
Aaric’s head snapped up and, putting his book away in his pack, urged his horse ahead. “Hurry, Adaryn,” he called over his shoulder. “Not the time to be distracted.”
I frowned at his back. He accused me of being distracted? I considered throwing a rock at him, but then my horse stepped into view of the Tyrko Ruins and all thoughts of Aaric were wiped from my mind.
The Ruins were located in a vast, basin-like depression. Broken stone buildings of various sizes dotted the landscape as far as the human eye could see.
“What was it?” I asked in a wondering whisper.
“Tyrko was a city, long ago,” Aaric said, taking in the sight with equal amazement. “Not much in recorded history is said of it, only that it was the capital of Omniah, before the War.”
I was silent as I continued to look at the sight before me. Omniah was our nation, but it was broken up into cities now, such as Ruis and Sen Altare. Rule extended out into the country surrounding them, but not by a lot. Much of the terrain between cities was simply unclaimed. No one seemed to be able to hold onto much beyond that, thank the heavens. I thought of Kingsley, a magistrate in Ruis. To have his influence extend past the city was a terrible thing to contemplate.
The War was what broke Omniah into its cities. I didn’t know anything about it past that.
“Let’s go.” Bran broke the stillness, and we started forward.
It was starting to feel humid. I
plucked at my blouse and looked up at the sky. The clouds were looking decidedly dark.
“We need to find shelter, and soon,” Bran stated, peering up at the sky.
Aaric pointed to a large, leaning building several yards away from us. “Why don’t we shelter there?”
“Too close to the edge,” Bran said. “If there are brigands here, they’ll be able to spot us right away.”
He led his horse down into the basin, Aaric and I following.
Short, stubby brush with brittle, green leaves crunched under the horses’ hooves, releasing a bitter fragrance. I wrinkled my nose.
I stared at the large, empty structures as we passed, wondering what their different functions would have been, and what kind of people lived there.
We came to an immense, circular area with seats surrounding it. I frowned, puzzled. What had it been for?
“I know what this is!” Aaric rode his horse forward eagerly, entering the odd clearing. “It’s called an ‘arena.’ I’ve read about them in books. Slaves would be brought here and would fight to the death. Onlookers would bet on who would win and who would die.”
I shuddered. Such a grisly fate. I think I would choose death before harming one of my clan members.
“Aaric,” Bran said. “I don’t think—”
Brigands poured out of the streets behind us, yelling and waving their weapons overhead as they descended on us. There wasn’t time to count, but there had to be at least twenty. For a split second I could only stare in shock. How had they found us? With both Bran and I watching our surroundings so closely, how did we not see them?
Bran smacked the rump of my horse. Russet screamed, and dashed into the arena, Bran and Star close behind.
Aaric wheeled around to face us, his expression grim. He had untied a bundle from his saddle and was holding an arc-bow. He must have picked one up in the city somewhere. He aimed and fired. One of the brigands yelled, clutching at his arm. I summoned magic, forming a cold spear in my hand, but hope died in the pit of my stomach. There were too many. I hefted the spear, knowing my resistance was futile. I wouldn’t be able to kill them all. Even if Bran summoned his magic we . . .
