by J. E. Klimov
Bence crept onto his feet and counted to three. He released the dagger from the man’s shadow and twirled away from the sickle with ease. Chuckling, Bence slashed the back of the man’s neck. The body slumped onto the floor, revealing the sixth and final opponent. Licking his lips, he aimed for the throat.
“Don’t move!”
The archer strung an arrow and pointed at Bence.
“Mistress Maciji. I fire upon your command,” he shouted robotically.
Sighing, Bence closed his eyes, and the pearl’s warmth faded. This was a fight he was destined to lose.
“Lower your arrow!” Maciji projected.
His breath hitched. He lifted his gaze until it locked with hers. Maciji’s eyes were wide as orbs, and her orange-colored lips parted.
“You will not shoot. Call the fight off and get Ki.”
CHAPTER
23
Hours ago, the court was covered in a bloody tarp with bodies rolling around in agony. Bence now stood, injures tended to, facing Maciji who sat back and sipped on her second glass of wine. Everyone in the room: the guards, servants, and Ki didn’t mask their shock. They shifted in silence, waiting for Maciji to speak.
Bence took a deep breath, thoughts taking him to the entrance where Tulelo was still bound, then to his black pearl. Ki had to pry it from his hand after the battle, and he hadn’t seen it since. That pearl was an artifact he stole from the Kai when he was traveling with Isabel. Back then, he thought only Isabel and the tribe chiefs had the keys to supernatural powers.
The imagery of the frozen warrior flashed before his eyes, causing his shoulders to jump. Bence had only meant to prop himself, but it seemed that the blade pinned the man’s shadow in place. Running his hand over his face and through his hair, he said, “Wow.”
Everyone stared at him. Bence smirked and shrugged.
“Well, that was unexpected.” Maciji gingerly placed the chalice onto a table. She stood and scratched her chin with her nails. “I can now see why Lady Echidna was hell bent on ruling Deran.”
She beckoned her sister, who scurried to her side with a miniature wooden box. Bence snorted; Ki wasn’t so giddy anymore. Maciji opened the box and caressed the object within.
“I certainly don’t feel anything,” she pouted.
Bence regarded her quizzically. When she revealed the contents, he jerked forward. His black pearl was embedded in a silver ring. It called for him with a soundless voice and invisible hands. The dregs of his humor faded.
“T-that’s mine!”
Maciji snapped the box shut. Tapping it against her palm, she stuck her tongue in her cheek. “I have a proposal.”
“I… what?”
“My men and women were beaten by the same man twice, and this time with this… thing!” She rattled the box.
Every time the ring clanged, Bence flinched.
“I’ll spare your life and welcome you as an Irellian citizen here in the southeastern clan.”
Bence’s heart raced. Everyone but Maciji keep their gaze on the ground.
“Of course, there’ll be a few rules. Firstly, if you want that Dunya to live, he will do so only as your pet and kept under tight control.”
A hiss erupted behind him. Bence turned to Tulelo to find him pawing the floor.
“See what I mean? He’s scratching the marble.” Maciji exaggerated a sigh. Reaching for a mirror beside her, she smacked her lips. She gave the box back to Ki and applied a fresh coat of lipstick, allowing another uncomfortable wave of silence sweep into the room. When she was satisfied, she said, “Secondly, I am a woman that makes every decision with purpose. Bence, you will stay with me, in my chambers, and also consider this an engagement.”
Bence shifted his weight, and his foot slipped. His mind exploded with thoughts but all he could utter was, “Excuse me?”
“You think I would let you stay for free? The power you demonstrated proves you’re Deranian royalty, and I fully intend on taking advantage of this political opportunity.”
Lifting his finger, he said, “Can I have a minute?”
When she nodded, Bence stood. His legs felt like rubber as he walked toward Tulelo. The Dunya rested its head against his, gently shaking it. The offer stunned Bence like an arrow to the heart.
“She bought it,” Bence whispered. “Because that black pearl gave me powers, she actually believes I’m a Deranian royal.”
“But I don’t want to be a pet.” Tulelo sniffed.
Bence’s insides twisted at the bittersweet victory. He was offered a home in Irelle, and the cost would be marriage. That didn’t bother him as much as when the words first slithered in his ear. A marriage out of love seemed irrational. But what caused the knot in his stomach was the fact he wasn’t Deranian royalty. He may have her fooled now, but if she were to ever start correspondence with Deran, his identity would be revealed. Not if. When. And what about Tulelo?
The Dunya released a mournful cry. “You can’t. It won’t work. Then we’ll both be in trouble.”
“Listen, I lied to save your life,” Bence began. “It’s too late for me to tell her the truth. I’m confident I can keep this guise up. This would just be like playing pretend. As far as you’re concerned, they may call you a pet, but I will not treat you, or let anyone treat you, like that.”
“What are you saying? No. You can’t let them. I’m not a pet!”
Bence slid his hand over Tulelo’s jaw and shushed him.
“I haven’t got all day!” Maciji’s voice jarred his ears.
“Tulelo, let’s hang around for now. If we can’t make this life work, we’ll take off.” Bence’s voice faltered.
Her headpiece jingled with impatience. “If you don’t decide in ten seconds, the deal is withdrawn, and I will have you both executed! The black pearl won’t be able to save you this time.”
The box rattled.
“Ten─”
“Bence, you saved me twice, but I don’t think this is a good idea. My momma told me who you really are. You can’t agree to this. It will backfire.”
“Shut up. You will keep that to yourself.” Desperation coated his words.
“Five, four─” High pitched scraping of metal drowned Maciji’s voice as guards unsheathed their weapons.
Bence’s heart pounded so hard, he thought it would burst. “Tulelo, you have no idea how far I journeyed to find a home. A home with family roots. I can’t─”
A guard spun him around and dug the tip of a blade between his shoulder blades. The back of his top grew slick with blood. Tulelo roared and thrashed behind him.
“Control that thing!” Maciji pointed her finger at Bence. “Time’s up. What’s your decision?”
The room filled with the muffled growls. The dagger dug deeper into his skin.
“I agree to your terms. Just, please, don’t harm him!” Bence choked. When the guard withdrew his dagger, he crumbled to his knees.
Ropes snapped behind him. “No,” Tulelo groaned. “Bence, no.”
Bence barely noticed the clicking of her heels, nor her fingers that ran through his hair. Maciji used two fingers to lift his jaw, breaking him from his misery.
“Not only do I have an alliance to improve the welfare of my people, but I ended up with a handsome betrothed. Win, win. Right, Shadow Warrior?”
His mouth went dry as his eyes watered. Bence desired a home desperately. Biting his lip, he refused to shed any tears. Tears were for the weak. But every time Tulelo whimpered, guilt ripped his soul into shreds.
CHAPTER
24
Isabel’s teeth chattered. She sped along the shoreline toward Buryan, hoping that Lief was still safe. Oak trees replaced palm trees. Soil replaced sand. She occasionally snuck glances at the sun setting into the ocean, and wondered where Bence was. Her heart ached for his company. She hungered for his crass jokes and iron clad resolve. Most importantly, his support.
She frowned. He was still an Aeonian. This meant there was a slight chance the murde
rer was him. Her mind obsessively went over potential motives. Revenge? For what? To make a statement? For what? Head shaking, she murmured to herself, “I could see that in his twin, but not him.”
Uncertainty unfurled as her thoughts continued. Her feelings for Dante had run cold like his body. Raiden was too slippery to trust, and the trips to Ogonia and Pekas didn’t boost her confidence in the Healers. She wanted to point her fingers at them, but Raiden and his lackeys were behaving like ideal citizens. It seemed like the tribe leaders took a liking to them as well. If she wrongfully accused the Healers, she would lose all credibility as queen. Her heart sank along with the sun.
Bence, I need you!
White stone walls appeared as a speck in the distance when Adin and Deva reached their peak. Isabel nudged her steed, fighting the shivers. By the time she came feet away from the main gate, she lost her grip and fell. Pain reverberated down to her hips, and exhaustion slowed her mind.
A faint glow shown through her eyelids. Lifting her head inches above the ground, she noticed a figure standing in the watchtower, holding a torch. His wings stretched wide, casting a shadow into the fields. Isabel smiled faintly; it had to be Lief. The gate rumbled to life, and in what seemed like eternity, footsteps squelched in the damp grass.
“Isabel? Are you alright? Look at me. It’s Lief.”
“I knew it,” she said, teeth still chattering.
“You’re soaked to the bone. I’d call you a fool, but you picked the perfect time to arrive. Two and everyone else are asleep. Let’s get you inside before anyone notices.”
All Isabel could see was a haze clouding her vision.
“Stay with me!”
A warm wind lifted her off her feet, wrapped her cloak around like a cocoon, and gently placed her on her horse. Isabel mindlessly caressed its mane. With a jerk, she felt herself move forward. Her eyes gave in, and her lids closed.
* * *
The cotton sheets conformed to her body perfectly. Isabel snuggled into a fluffy pillow, mind free of thoughts.
The doorknob rattled.
Isabel shot up, her hands fumbling at her hips. She looked down and found she was in nothing but a white robe. As the door opened, Isabel rolled off the bed and ducked. She held her breath.
Shoes scraped against stone. Steps came closer. Isabel’s eyes darted around for a weapon. When she noticed a broom leaning against the wall, she pounced on it, twirled around, and jabbed.
The bristles of the broom smacked the person in the face. A hand swatted it away, revealing Lief. His porcelain skin was red as a cherry. “What on earth are you doing?” A gust of air knocked the broom from Isabel.
“Lief,” Isabel said. Panic seized her mind. It could be a trap. She, too, raised her hand and summoned Tuuli’s Opal. A white light flashed from her armlet, releasing howling winds.
He flapped his wings and pushed against the gale. “Stop it!” he shouted. Lief slid back but grasped the door side. “You’re safe. You’re not in any danger!”
Tuuli’s Opal flickered. Isabel’s energy reserves were already depleted. She stumbled to the left as the room spun right. Catching the bedpost, she took labored breaths. Isabel fought to summon her powers, but with each attempt, she grew weaker. “Damn it,” she cursed.
“That’s because your body is still recovering from the abuse you put it through riding all the way up here in wet clothing in the middle of mid-winter’s night!”
Isabel locked eyes with Lief. He relaxed his brow and clasped his hands together. The fog in her mind dissipated and memories rushed in. She hung her head.
“Lief, I’m sorry. I awoke with a start, and I was disoriented. I don’t even know who to trust anymore.”
“Don’t fret, Queen Isabel.”
She flopped onto the bed. “Where are my sai?”
Lief pointed to the far end of the room. Her cloak was wrapped in a bundle. “Your clothes were wet, torn, and dirtied. I brought you a new outfit. It’s very Tuuli, but I’m sure you won’t care.”
With a snap of his fingers, a package wrapped in parchment gravitated into the room and zoomed up and onto Isabel’s lap. She pulled the strings apart and began separating her new clothes. There was a white, high-collar top with long sleeves, a silver vest, and gray slacks. She massaged the material against her face.
“It’s soft. I’m sure it’ll keep me warm, thank you. But wait, where’s Aysu? You’re the chief of the Tuuli. Wouldn’t a servant bring this to me?” She stood and rushed to the window. Her breath painted the glass, but there was no mistaking the silhouette of the Tuuli chief’s manor. She turned around and clutched her outfit to her chest. “Where am I?”
His face fell. Creases along his forehead and around his mouth were significantly noticeable. For the first time, Lief showed his age. Brushing his platinum blonde bangs from his face, his lips trembled. “We’re at a relative’s house. I felt it wasn’t safe for you to be in the manor.”
“Does anyone know I’m here?”
Silence. He retracted his wings and backed out through the door. “Get dressed and meet me in the living room. Then we can discuss more.”
Isabel gripped her clothes in frustration. She didn’t see why he couldn’t answer her questions now. When the door closed, she tore off her robe. She dressed as fast as she could, but the Tuuli outfits were more ornate than a typical Deranian tunic and pants. The top was riddled with buttons and the vest required cautious manipulation of pull strings. Once she finished, she jogged to the corner and grabbed her sai. She strapped her boots on and rested her hand on the doorknob. Holding her breath, she opened the door.
The room was modest─the limestone walls were painted white, as most Tuuli homes were. A square table, four wicker chairs, and a hearth were the only decor. A lean Tuuli woman prodded the coals, nursing the baby flames. When Isabel stepped into the room, she turned and bowed.
“It should warm up soon.” She tucked her golden bangs behind her ears, highlighting her brilliant cerulean irises. “Oh, where are my manners? I am Surea, Lief’s daughter.”
Isabel blinked rapidly. “Daughter?”
She tried to connect the dots. Tuuli elders always lived in the chief’s manor and never married; and before replacing Dante as Tuuli chief, Lief spent most of his life as an elder.
“You okay?” Surea asked.
“Yes.” Isabel shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure.”
Surea’s snow white complexion flushed pink. Isabel stepped back and scratched the back of her neck, observing her host sputter.
“Queen Isabel can be a little informal at times, my dear.” Lief swept in from around the corner and took a seat. It creaked as he tried to find a comfortable position.
“That’s no problem. It’s an honor, really,” Surea stammered. She fell onto her knees and busied herself by the fire.
Isabel glanced at Lief, who shook his head and lifted a finger to his lips. After swallowing a lump in her throat, she nodded and sat down opposite of him.
Tapping his slender fingers together, he said, “I know what you want to ask. And I prefer not to discuss it at the moment.” He eyed his daughter, who rushed into the kitchen. “Let’s have some tea and get down to business.”
“Of course,” Isabel replied. Her fingers flew to her mouth in anticipation.
A strained silence filled the air. Biting one nail after another, Isabel looked Lief over. His mustache and beard hadn’t been trimmed, and dark circles clung beneath his eyes. Every time he took a breath to speak, his mouth clamped shut. When the kettle whistled nearby, Lief remained still as a statue.
“What’s going on?” Isabel asked. “You sent an urgent message for a private meeting, and you haven’t uttered a word about it yet.”
Surea placed two pearl-white cups onto the tables. An herbal steam curled into the air, obstructing her view of Lief. Fear and curiosity transformed into impatience. When she bit her thumb, her cuticle bled liberally.
“My apologies, Your Majesty. When it comes
down to the matter, I feel choked up inside.”
She pounded her fist against the table. “Does that happen to you when grooming as well?”
Both Surea and Lief stilled.
Guilt beat on her head like a hammer. “I’m sorry. I’m just… eager to hear what you have to say. Lief, you look fine. At least, compared to Hakan and Dover. They look so run down and ragged as if they ran a lap around the entire island.”
“I think it’s all connected!” he blurted.
“Excuse me?” Isabel’s heart leapt.
Lief flicked his translucent, butterfly-like wings and gestured to Surea. She nodded and left the room. He hunched over the table, stretching his wings over them. Isabel leaned in as well, and immediately noticing his trembling lips.
“I wanted to wait for Jabin, but he hasn’t responded to my correspondence. Queen Isabel, something’s not right.”
She huffed and shook her head. “That’s what you wanted to tell me? Of course something isn’t right. Someone or something is killing our people.”
Shaking his head wildly, he said, “No. Something’s off. Really off.”
Isabel sat at the edge of her seat. The band of tension around her head squeezed. “And?”
“I don’t think it’s the work of the Aeonians. Their era has passed.” Lowering his voice to a whisper, he locked eyes with her. “I think the Healers are involved.” Lief sat back and retracted his wings. He strained his neck to peek out of windows to his left and right.
A sense of satisfaction undulated in her chest, relived she wasn’t the only person who had been suspicious. But her mood immediately crushed as she recounted recent events in her head. “Lief, I was with all of the Healers when the Fotian family was murdered. As much as I’d like to agree with you, I don’t have any evidence to prove it.”
