Kingdoms of Ether (Kingdoms of Ether Series Book 1)

by Ryan Muree

  Honestly, he didn’t know what to expect. They’d never had a Scribe run away before, and if Avrist had been called to find Emeryss, then it meant the Librarian was informed and was not happy. Emeryss definitely couldn’t return to Neeria if that was the case.

  Vaughn pointed ahead to the end of the corridor. “There. Through that door, there’s a kitchen, but don’t use anyone else’s cup or bowl… or fork. They get really mad when you do.” He then disappeared down the platform, and Grier cracked open the door to find loud crashing and cursing.

  The kitchen was only as large as the room he and Emeryss shared. Two counters, two cabinets, two sinks, one table with fixed metal benches around it—all metal and all squeezed in. On top of the table was the fattest masked tulisan he’d ever seen. Purplish and smoky—illusionary—it was helping itself to some food containers.

  “Hey! Shoo!” He waved at it, only to have it trill at him in confusion. “Hey! Get out of here!”

  A loud clunk behind him made him spin.

  Adalai was chewing on the end of some thin stick. Her hair was fire-red this time, and wild and curly around her face. Her hands were on her hips. “You don’t tell Miss Tiddlybottom what to do.”

  “Miss Tidd—?”

  “They’re not in there, Tidbits. Check the other cabinet!” She waved a finger at the animal, and it waddled off to the other counter, opened the cabinet with its tiny paws, and scanned the labels of the boxes.

  He turned to Adalai. “Is it actually reading the labels?”

  She shrugged.

  “But she’s not real, so you control—”

  “Did you come in here to harass me or throw another chain dart at me?” She lifted her nose.

  As much as it stung him all night that she’d gotten away, he had to give credit where it was due. They were both highly trained for what they did, and it was easy to see she was a good illusionist.

  “I’ll remind you that you were stealing books. You’re lucky I’m so outnumbered on this ship.”

  She rolled her eyes, turned her back on him, and returned to search through a cabinet. “Rules, rules, rules…”

  “Rules keep things in order. They keep things organized. They keep people safe.”

  “And they can kill people. It’s not black and white. Rules can be gray.”

  “No, there are no gray rules.” He moved around the table and reached for a mug on the shelf.

  Tidbits yanked it from his hand and put it back.

  “Not that one,” Adalai said without turning around.

  He reached for another. Tidbits did it again.

  “Nope.”

  He sighed and reached for a black mug. Tidbits eyed it but went back to reading the labels on the food boxes.

  “Steal, don’t steal—black and white,” he continued. “Besides, I will not argue rules—”

  “Sure.” She slammed a cabinet door closed. “That’s all you can do. Do you Keepers even know how to think for yourself?”

  He grabbed a small container of fruit juice, sniffed it, and poured some into his mug. “Are you insinuating we’re all brainwashed?”

  “Yup.”

  He sat on the cold metal bench and rested his elbows on the table. “We’re not brainwashed, and there aren’t that many rules. Surprisingly, not stealing is a general rule accepted everywhere—not only Stadhold.”

  She Blinked and reappeared on top of the counter, reaching for a higher cabinet. Tidbits tossed a few boxes across the room.

  “Rules…” she continued with her head between boxes in the back of the cabinet she’d been searching, “are made by man. They’re not perfect. They fit people in tiny, neat little boxes. Easier to manage. Easier to control.”

  He swallowed a gulp of the cold juice, unable to pinpoint which fruit it belonged to. “You’re in the Revelian Caster Army. You have rules to follow, too. Or you did.” He shook his head. This was a pointless conversation. She’d be given a lot more rules when he turned her in.

  “Yeah, but my General trusts me enough to give me some room to fuzzy up the edges. I’m not forced to stay put in a building my entire life with a bunch of old birds and boring fighters with rods up their asses.” She tossed a boxed over her head, and he ducked it. “See, you make the rules, so you like them. Emeryss gets no say in the rules, and thus, she doesn’t like them. Imagine that?”

  “That’s not true. I don’t like all of them.”

  “Name one.”

  He took another swig. She wouldn’t get at him. “Maybe you’re allowed to fuzzy up the edges and get special privileges because you’re Orr’s daughter?”

  She spun and glared at him. “Despite whatever Vaughn’s big-mouth may have told you, I’m not given special privileges or treatment for no reason. I earn it. Did he also tell you I had the privilege to starve, to study twice as much as anyone else, the privilege to train twice as long just to make it in the ranks? Yeah, privilege. I earned General Orr’s respect. There’s a difference. I wasn’t born with special treatment pouring out my ears like some people.” She made her way to a cabinet near the ceiling. “The rules said never to feed an illegitimate child on the streets. The rules said not to give her a chance. You should try breaking some of your own rules sometime and see where it takes you.”

  Where it took him? Something as innocent as breaking the rules could mean putting Emeryss’s life at risk. It meant being a worse Keeper. It meant not focusing on what was important. It meant risking everything ahead of him for nothing.

  He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Don’t make it sound like you did something honorable. You stole grimoires.”

  She laughed. “You gonna take me in?”

  “As soon as we land, yes. Stadhold is sending someone to Delour, and I will try to convince Em—”

  She glowered at him from the top of the counter. “Convince her?” She shook her head and sighed. “You’re going to screw over Emeryss, and then you’re going to have me arrested and interfere with our relief mission to a town just ransacked by Ingini marauders?”

  He focused on a small white chip in the mug’s handle. He didn’t want to deny people relief, but there was no way around it. Avrist was coming, Emeryss needed to get safely back to Stadhold, and Adalai stole grimoires.

  “No wonder Emeryss wanted to run away.”

  His fists tightened.

  She hopped down off the counter and took a box Tidbits had been holding out for her.

  “Why do you even care?” he asked. “She wasn’t a prisoner there. Her entire escape from the library hinges on learning how to cast, and you know doing it is damn near impossible for her. You know she’s in danger being out of the library. You said yourself Delour isn’t safe. She could get hurt casting, she could get hurt by you all—”

  “Slow down there, lover boy.”

  His eyes shot up at her.

  She tossed a brown nugget of food into her mouth and chomped. “You know maybe that’s why she hasn’t done it. People like you telling her she can’t.”

  “That’s not at all what happened. I care about her safety—”

  “Oh yeah, we know. We got that loud and clear. But it’s a shame you don’t believe in her.”

  He clenched his jaw. He’d be damned if this thief and manipulator was going to tell him—

  “It’s not a wonder she’s been surrounded by the likes of you for years and can’t cast. You realize you’re called a Keeper…”

  “Yes, because we keep Scribes and Stadhold safe.”

  “More like keeping her in that pretty little box of rules.”

  He wouldn’t entertain that. Emeryss wasn’t a prisoner. He wasn’t her caregiver. “Do you know of anyone that couldn’t cast and suddenly taught themselves how?”

  “That sounds an awful lot like a nice little box for you to keep her in.”

  “Do you?”

  She dug a little deeper into her container of snacks. “No, but… I also don’t know of anyone trying.” She opened the door with her foo
t as her pet clambered onto her shoulder. “I also didn’t know a Neerian Scribe before last night, either. Come on, Tidbits.”

  He wasn’t keeping Emeryss in a box; he was keeping her safe.

  “Speaking of which—good morning, Emeryss!” Adalai made sure her announcement was loud and dramatic as she pushed the kitchen door farther open, revealing Emeryss on the other side.

  Her gold eyes sought his. “Grier? Can we talk?”

  Chapter 7

  Kitchen — Zephyr Airship

  Emeryss only had to tell him he had to go home. Easy.

  “Grier, I…” The words stopped all on their own. It was not easy.

  She’d already told him last night, but that was before he’d spouted out his oath, before everything got personal. It’s what had kept her up most of the night. He would’ve been more irritating if his announcement to follow her had come out like he had to and those were just the rules. Instead, he’d started off that way, and then it evolved into something more. Something he couldn’t bear not doing for her.

  Or it’d sounded like that. It’d felt like a peek at something raw inside him, or maybe it was her imagination. Either way, analyzing it had consumed her for hours until she’d finally resigned herself to the fact she wanted him home for his own sake, but she wanted his support, too. Just a simple I understand.

  His frame barely fit at the table. It looked like it’d been meant for four people, but he took up one side entirely. She’d never seen him in just his padding and pants, and his hair was more flat than usual.

  He appeared to be less furious at least. An improvement from the night before. Instead his rigid glare, the wrinkle in his forehead, all made him look annoyed, but Adalai’s smug expression was probably the cause of that.

  “Want me to leave?” Adalai asked.

  “No, it’s okay.”

  “Good. I want to hear what he says.”

  Grier sighed. “You don’t even know what she’s about to say.”

  Adalai shrugged. “Go on, Emeryss.”

  Right. She cleared her throat. “You need to go home.”

  Grier smiled into his cup. “If you don’t listen to me, what makes you think I’m going to listen to you?”

  She moved past Adalai and into the cold kitchen. The few bright bulbs under the cabinets sufficed for lighting. “I don’t know how to say this—”

  “Just say it.” He placed his mug down and rolled it between his palms.

  “I can take care of myself.”

  He laughed.

  “I lived a whole life before the library.”

  He nodded, merely amusing her and not taking it seriously.

  “This is my decision—”

  “Is that all you could come up with?” He turned his chin toward her and smiled. It was a glimmer of old Grier when he’d poked fun at her from the doorway of her suite. Except this was serious. She was serious.

  “I don’t want to be responsible for your life,” she said.

  “Too bad. I’m already responsible for yours.”

  “And I’m releasing you from that responsibility.”

  “And you’re not my captain, my commander, or the Librarian.”

  Adalai bumped her with her shoulder. “Unfair that they get to make all the rules, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Grier, I am serious—”

  “I am, too.”

  “I’m not going back.”

  “You need to go back because it’s dangerous—”

  “You still don’t understand, do you?” She straightened her spine. “How can you not understand that they’re being unjust? If I go back, I will get nowhere. This whole mess is not what I wanted, but what I had back there isn’t what I wanted either. I can’t take another minute in that drawing room, in silence, going blind.”

  His bracer clinked against the table as he lowered his arm. “You had security, safety, food, your own little suite. You had everything you could’ve ever wanted—”

  “I had no one, Grier! Not one friend—”

  “You had me!” After he’d said it, he looked away and his jaw tightened.

  She leaned toward him. “But that’s not even true, is it? I wasn’t even allowed to be seen anywhere with you if it wasn’t to one of my shifts. No celebrations. No gatherings. The only way I got any news was from the Scribes blabbering on about how immature you and all the other Keepers were. You stepped into my suite, and Lerissa nearly had you demoted for that alone—”

  “That’s not true, and it’s not just because of the rules—”

  “My friends were all eighty-year-old, blind Scribes.”

  Adalai snorted.

  “That’s only because it’s been a while since new Scribes were born. You were brought to the library during a strange gap—”

  She lifted her chest. “And me not wanting to be a Scribe—”

  “But you are, Emeryss. You are a Scribe, and like you said—a damn good one.”

  “I never wanted to be a Scribe, but I’ll do it for these people if it means I get the chance at what I really want. Why can’t you accept that? I thought we were… I thought we were close enough that I could tell you that I don’t want to see you hurt or in trouble for what I want—”

  “Too bad,” he muttered.

  He was still treating this like his duty. He didn’t get it. Emeryss squeezed her fists. “Grier, this is me saying this. Me. Not my job. Not my responsibilities. Because to me, you’re not just my Keeper. Unlike you, I care about you and your well-being and happiness.”

  He stared off, not even blinking.

  Like a wave lifting her up, her shoulders and feet felt lighter. Her chest, too. She didn’t want him hurt. She wanted him safe and happy. That’s why it had been hard to tell him to go home. Because the flirting and the teasing all those times before hadn’t just been for fun. It’d meant something to her, even if it’d meant nothing to him. And she couldn’t stand being responsible for his unhappiness.

  A long silence permeated the kitchen before Adalai broke it with munching on her snack. The lines in his forehead had eased, his lips weren’t as thin. Maybe she’d finally gotten through to him. Maybe he finally understood what she was up against, and that even if he didn’t care about what she wanted, he at least knew that she cared about what he wanted.

  He looked down at the mug. “You don’t know what gives me happiness.”

  She crossed her arms and softly said, “I understand what you’re trying to achieve. I know that being a commander on the High Council is all you’ve ever wanted. I understand that it means everything to your family to be a strong lineage of Keeper heroes.”

  He slowly looked up at her. “You think that’s all I’ve ever wanted? You think that because I follow tradition and that I value its meaning, my family, the rules, that I never wanted more?”

  She dropped her arms to her side slowly. What more did he want? Hadn’t he been the one to tell her that she had everything she could ever want in the library? How was that not the same for him? He’d wanted to join the High Council as a diplomat, but being a Keeper was required for that. That was simply a promotion for him when he’d gotten enough experience and support from the community.

  “Whatever it is you want, the difference is that I’m willing to risk it all for what I want,” she said. “Why can’t you understand that? If you want more, then why isn’t it important enough to risk the rules and fight for it?”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” His abyssal eyes, the same ones that had greeted her daily with unimaginable depths, held her there.

  She swallowed and took one staggering foot back.

  Adalai passed her the box of snacks. “Come on. Let’s get you changed.”

  Chapter 8

  Kimpert’s Hangar 4 — Ethrecity — Ingini

  Clove stepped out of Pigyll into Ethrecity’s second largest hangar.

  Cayn sighed beside her. “At least it smells better here.”

  “Sure.” Not like she cared. She was still fuming, and
the closer she got to Kimpert’s office the more anxious she’d become. She’d run through the million and one things she wanted to say and sling at Kimpert, but both she and Cayn agreed to first find out if what Branson had said was true.

  They signed in Pigyll with the flight controller—someone she didn’t recognize—dressed in the typical gray suit.

  “Where’s the last guy?” she asked him.

  The flight controller’s grin didn’t reach his eyes. “Leese? Relieved.”

  “Relieved? Of duty?”

  The new guy maintained his creepy fake-smile.

  So, Kimpert was pulling pilots and regular staff. That wasn’t normal. Kimpert valued quality, and Leese had been excellent, not to mention loyal. Sure, Clove had signed up for other points with other bosses, but none of that cut into Kimpert’s profits. Kimpert was too big to be touched.

  “Did Leese sign up for the troops?” Cayn asked him.

  “Couldn’t say.”

  The controller’s tight lips and annoyed expression made it almost worth the risk of punching him. He could say, but he didn’t want to. Either Kimpert didn’t want other people to know what she was up to, or she didn’t want Clove to know.

  They headed for the interior hall through self-opening metal doors.

  No rot or spoiled stench, most of Ethrecity was decent. Tall buildings made of rock and metal compacted into tight spaces, the city was considered by most to be the capital. It also had ten mega-hangars and the facilities to house captured airships from Revel.

  In Kimpert’s hangar, the halls weren’t dim, and the floors weren’t barely above the sewage. Bright-yellow ether-lamps wrapped in golden filigree dangled along the wall. The walls themselves were lined with special paper rumored to be brought underground from Revel. The thick red carpet was so plush that it gave as they walked. Just like the upper echelons of Ethrecity, everything was expensive and immaculate.

  She checked behind them to see if they were tracking in dirt. It wasn’t that she wanted to be fancy and proper. She’d just rather not piss anyone off before she had to cross Kimpert.