by Ryan Muree
Maybe King Fhaddwick was in a mood, monopolizing his time. It seemed he relied on General Orr to be at his beck and call whenever it struck him. Typical nobility didn’t understand people like her and Orr—people who came from nothing and scavenged to survive. No, people like Fhaddwick thought others existed for him.
That’s why Orr had taken her in. The other RCA members had grown up being taught and trained from age four. At four years old, she was already homeless, fighting for food and water. When RCA members were sent off to Academy by ten, she was too busy figuring out how to stay invisible. She had to stay off the local guard’s notice, so she could steal food, water, and get some sleep on a trash pile for a few hours.
When Orr had found her, he’d said he saw potential, as well as the bite and grit of a rabid animal. She didn’t like the last part so much. She much preferred sneaky and cunning creatures like Tidbits, but she did like the sound of being fierce. And if he saw enough in her to pull her from the streets and give her a chance, she wouldn’t argue—and she didn’t. Vaughn could talk all he wanted; she had earned her place in the RCA.
She might not have officially been a member for long, but Orr had made it perfectly clear that this group, the Zephyrs, was her big chance. Urla had been put in charge due to experience, but Orr had demanded Adalai prove her initiative, her skill, her resourcefulness.
You bring something unique to the RCA, he’d said. That’s what we need. That’s the only way to stop Ingini from destroying everything we hold dear.
And she could do it. She would do it, and it’d start with Emeryss. Adalai had an eye for these things, and Emeryss could be her ticket up.
She went to the sink to wash her face and eyed her still-Glamoured, red frizzy curls. They were beyond acceptable, sticking out a foot from her head. She’d made the mistake of going to bed with it still wet from her shower, too tired and overwhelmed from yesterday’s events to give a damn about it. She re-Glamoured it straight and blue, slipped out of her night clothes, and began sniffing her uniforms for the cleanest one.
She was supposed to wash them the day after Emeryss had arrived, but giving Emeryss a tour and practicing casting with her was a half-decent excuse for missing wash day. Actually, anything was a good excuse for missing wash day. She slipped her legs into the feet of a quasi-clean uniform and stretched it up her torso.
Emeryss really was a good Scribe. She’d filled those books for them, almost got that ether off the page during practice, and then scribed for that boy. She’d deliberately pulled the ether she needed, and that was something special.
Or not. Maybe other Scribes could do it, too, if they’d tried.
Tidbits flourished to life beside her in a flurry of purple-pink smoke and rummaged around the drawers in the room.
A Neerian Scribe was already an anomaly though. There was no telling what more she could do.
And Emeryss wasn’t the only weird thing happening. Instead of one, there were reports of two Sigilists in the world. Two.
Sigilists were like Scribes, except they carved the sacred sigils Keeper’s needed into their arms. Their ability straddled this blurry line between Scribe and Caster. And there were two of them.
When the news broke that Stadhold had found a second Sigilist, all the Messengers across Revel had gone crazy over it. Stadhold had maintained that it was a freak event, but Revelians had known better. It’d meant the ethereal plane wanted more Keepers. It’d meant Stadhold would have to get involved with Ingini. It’d meant war was coming.
Maybe Sigilists were the key. Maybe Emeryss needed to use something else in order to pull the ether off the page. She had scribed on the inventory sheet. Sigilists scribed on skin. Maybe she needed to cast differently, too.
Either way, Adalai understood what Orr had seen in her because she saw it in Emeryss. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on—grit, potential, maybe less of a bite than herself, but something. Emeryss was as dedicated as she was, and between that and Adalai’s guidance, Adalai would make her a Caster.
She zipped up the back of her suit and adjusted her sleeves. She’d find some breakfast, make sure Emeryss was awake, and try to contact Orr again.
Yesterday hadn’t gone as planned. Not nearly as much of a disaster as Grier had pointed out, but not as planned. The REV would be a problem, however. She’d seen them in Aurelis plenty of times while growing up. They didn’t know when to back down, and it took a near constant presence of the RCA to keep them under the thumb of the king in his own capital. But out in places like Delour, in quiet small towns, they weren’t going to let it go that a Scribe had been there. Not the REV. They had a habit of doing everything they could to infest cities with their crime sprees.
And it wasn’t like she was quick to judge. She’d participated in several minor crime sprees of her own—including breaking into Stadhold’s Great Library—but theirs were something else entirely. Hers were all in good fun or just to survive. The REV liked to hold leverage over the people they were supposed to be helping, suffocating any goodwill. They were practically Ingini—selfish, falsely victimized manipulators.
To think yesterday would have been okay had they been able to deny Emeryss’s presence, hide her, and get away from the REV. But then that stupid locator Caster showed up, basically screaming that there was, in fact, a Scribe.
She kicked over two empty boxes of sugar puffs to find her boots.
Avrist was no good. Emeryss knew it, and she already knew it. Shit, anyone who spent five seconds with him could probably see it, except for Grier. She shook her head and put her boots on, letting the laces hang loose. That boy wouldn’t know a slitherskin if it bit him on the ass.
At least by the time it was said and done, Grier was beginning to see. That counted for something maybe, and she couldn’t give him too much shit. He could fight, and he was smart enough to let her Blink Emeryss out of there instead of getting all choked up on his stupid duty to be by her side.
His rules were still stupid—he was brainwashed for sure—but at least he was coming out of it a little bit.
Ada, you’re awake, right? Sonora’s calm voice tickled her ears from the deck below.
“Maybe.”
General Orr is trying to contact you directly. No Messenger. Ready?
She took a deep breath and faced herself in the mirror. “Yup.”
There was a pull, a slight thickness in her head, as Sonora connected the three of them across the continent. Then the thickness thinned out like a drop of syrup hanging for too long, and then it snapped. Sonora had left the tether.
Adalai? General Orr’s voice came into her head with a gruff edge. He wasn’t happy.
“Yes, sir.”
What is wrong with you? he screamed through the connection. It vibrated and threatened to tear apart, and she winced. Do you know what I had to clean up for the last twelve hours?
She inhaled. “Sir, we weren’t aware that the REV—”
I don’t give a shit, Adalai! Do you know the rumors coming out of Delour? Do you know the nightmare you’ve put me through? Stadhold is losing their damned minds. I’ve got their captains and that stupid locator Caster—Avril, Avridd, whatever—sending me messages every spirit-damned minute!
“Does King Fhaddwick know—”
Do you take me for an idiot?
“No, sir.”
I am beyond disappointed. I am disgusted, and I have half-a-mind to pull you right this second. I ignore a lot of your juvenile antics, but this jeopardizes treaties, Adalai. I hate politics, and now I’m chin-deep in it.
“I’m sorry, sir.” She squeezed her burning eyes shut and swallowed.
Where is this Scribe? Do you really have a friggin’ Scribe on that ship?
“Yes, sir.”
And they’re safe?
“Yes, sir. She’s the Neerian Scribe—”
He groaned. Unbelievable.
“She stowed away on the Zephyr—”
Adalai, do I have stupid written across my f
orehead? I must have stupid written across my forehead—
“No, sir.”
I know this girl didn’t happen by an RCA airship and decide to jump on. If I were a betting man, I’d lay money that you had something to do with her leaving—
“They were holding her prisoner! They wouldn’t let her leave! She’s convinced her Keeper—”
I don’t care two shits about her problems or her Keeper. I care that she’s in Stadhold with the other Scribes, making grimoires so my men don’t die! Do you understand me?
“Yes, sir.”
What did I tell you about sob stories?
She sucked in a breath. “They aren’t going to save me, sir.”
That’s right. Toughen up or the world will shit in your mouth and tell you to eat it. Everyone has a sob story, and they’ll never do anything good for you. There was a pause. Right?
“Yes, sir.”
Now, I’ve got to fix this. You’ve already left Delour?
“Yes, sir.”
A day ahead of schedule.
“Yes, sir.” Her stomach twisted, and she motioned for Tidbits to find some snacks from the sink cabinet fast.
And you brought her to Delour? Your solution to a Scribe wanting to leave Stadhold was to bring her to Delour? Where Ingini were just seen attacking a few days ago? Where scouts have been running beyond the wall for intelligence on us? It’s a Scribe, Adalai!
She wrung her hands. “It would have been fine. The REV were there, and then Avrist—”
Adalai…
“Sorry, sir.”
She can’t be seen with you again. As I said, Stadhold is already in a fit over her. Their Librarian has been sending a continuous stream of private messages to the king’s advisors for hours. This is a massive liability on our end. If something happens to her—
“It won’t, sir. I promise.”
It won’t, or you lose everything: the Zephyr, the team—poof! You want to be General after me, don’t you?
She frowned. It wasn’t fair how often he held that against her. General meant power, moving armies with a mere wave of her hand and unable to be brushed aside. Getting Emeryss to become a Caster would help her reach that. She could still turn this around when she presented a casting Scribe…
I need to contact a few more people. In the meantime, you need to head to Marana—
“Marana, sir? But we’re—”
If it was up to me, you’d all be pulled and grounded indefinitely!
She smacked her forehead with her palm.
But…
But?
Advisor O’Brecht has decided that a squad capable of getting a Scribe out of Stadhold and protecting her in Delour is a squad that can run security at his damned wedding. He’s as dumb as you all, and I can’t fight him on it.
Her head shot up, eyes wide in the mirror. He was giving them the wedding assignment, protecting the king’s financial advisor?
I cannot believe I’m saying this… You have until the end of the week to get to Marana. General Orr huffed. You will protect the advisor and his kin under a few conditions.
The crew would lose their minds when they heard about this. This was great news even if it rode in on a hol’s ass. Conditions didn’t matter when the job would bring prestige, reputation, promotions. But a week wasn’t enough time to get Emeryss to Neeria and get back.
Did you hear me?
“Yes, sir.”
With tensions on the border and the recent events in Delour, we can’t afford any risks. There will be the normal squads Marana already has assigned there, but I need the Zephyrs to blend in at the actual event. The advisor doesn’t want his wedding guests to be inconvenienced having to look at RCA members in uniform. He grumbled to himself about O’Brecht being a pompous ass. As far as the Scribe goes, I’ll be sending a well-equipped escort. They’ll meet you in Marana, and you will pass her off to that escort before the wedding. We’ll make sure she gets back to Stadhold and her Librarian.
That was the last thing she wanted to do to Emeryss. To hand Emeryss over when she’d just told Adalai she was never going back to Stadhold. “Sir…”
Did you hear me, Adalai? If she is not on that ship, you all will be grounded, and the Zephyrs will be dissolved. Understood?
Emeryss would be furious with her. Instead of going home, she’d be sending Emeryss back to her prison. She’d already run once to break free. She’d probably run again, possibly when they landed for some rest. And they’d lose everything. She’d lose everything.
Emeryss couldn’t find out. She swallowed the bile in her throat.
Adalai, do not—
“Understood, sir. I understand. She will be on that escort ship in Marana.”
Make me proud.
The invisible tether between them severed, and she flopped down onto her bunk.
Orr had given them a second chance, one she couldn’t afford to screw up for any of them. But Emeryss…
She’d have to keep the truth about the escort from Emeryss for the next few days, so she wouldn’t have a chance to run. Maybe by then, Emeryss would have made progress, and it’d be enough to satisfy her to keep practicing on her own in Stadhold. Maybe she’d reconcile with the library by then. A lot could happen in a week.
Ugh. She did not want to lie to Emeryss, but… She lifted her chin and eyed the top half of her face in the mirror. Emeryss had gotten out once before, she could again, and sob stories don’t save anyone.
“Sonora?”
Yeah?
“Will you call for a meeting in ten minutes on the bridge?”
Sure thing.
Adalai crossed her arms and leaned against a chair behind Mykel.
The others were circled around her in various states of frustration, disappointment, or complacency.
Vaughn yawned and stretched. “Where are we?”
Jahree nodded to Adalai. “We floated for most of the night. We’re northwest of Delour. I wanted to see where that Caster was headed.”
“And?” Adalai asked.
“He and his Keepers backed off,” Sonora said. “They didn’t follow, but I can’t tell where they headed.”
Emeryss’s eyes fell, but her hands were folded neatly in front of her. She was twisting up some of the fabric of her suit. Grier, on the other hand, had his arms crossed, most of his armor on, and huge, dark bags under his eyes.
Adalai snickered to herself. The two had been forced to share a room, and after Delour, she’d be willing to bet that last night hadn’t been easy on either of them.
“Can we get on with this?” Tully asked as a child version of herself.
“First, the Messengers came through,” Sonora said. “Things are heating up on the border.”
Vaughn nodded. “Two more cities were attacked last night.”
“Orr’s moved the Wyverns, the Dawnflies, and the Harpies to assist in both cities,” Sonora said. “We’re expecting an official declaration of war any minute.”
Urla and Kayson shook their heads.
“Too bad we’re not getting called in to help, yet,” Jahree said.
“Because we got something better,” Adalai announced. “Orr had some choice words about our recent—”
“Stupidity?” Kayson asked.
“Interactions,” Adalai clarified. “Don’t worry. I took the blame—”
“How generous, eh?” Vaughn knocked Kayson with the back of his hand, but Kayson ignored him.
“Either way, our little activity yesterday made an impression on some of the higher-ups. A good impression.”
Several heads perked up, but Tully groaned. “Out with it already.”
“We got Advisor O’Brecht’s wedding.”
Gasps and cheers came out from each of them.
“Are you serious?” Kayson asked.
She nodded. It was a breath of fresh air in the ship. Everyone could breathe again.
“Isn’t this like his fifth wedding?” Vaughn asked.
Urla laughed. “Try se
venth. Two were before you were even born.”
“What are the details?” Mykel shoved Tidbits off his lap.
“He’s getting married in Marana. With the attack on Delour and the wedding being high profile, General Orr is worried about the wedding needing back-up. They’ll have the usual squads in the city, but we’re the undercover support if they can’t handle it—assassination attempts, that sort of thing.”
Urla leaned against her stick. “Oh, thank Goddess. I thought they put me in this group to retire me.”
“Do we have to dress up for the wedding?” Vaughn asked her.
“I said we have to blend in. We’ll let Jahree and Mykel handle it.”
“I need materials for the ship, too,” Mykel said.
Grier dropped his arms. “This is entirely too dangerous for Emeryss.”
She swallowed. “About that—"
“Orr knows, right?” Urla asked.
She nodded. “Yes, because of the riots in Delour. But he offered to send an escort…”
Their eyes narrowed.
They’d see right through her. She had to come up with something, or they’d never believe it and run and…
“And?” Grier pressed.
“He said the wedding is too dangerous. He’d agree with you, but since we’re on a strict deadline to arrive and scout and stuff—”
“And stuff?” Tully smirked.
“He’s sending an escort to take you to Neeria.” She looked at Emeryss. It was actually a half-decent fib. Close to reality, except not at all honest and somehow more sinister. Her stomach turned tighter.
“But what about Avrist?” Emeryss said.
“You don’t want him to follow you home,” Grier said, “but they won’t let him take you against your will again once you speak with them. They’d defend you against the Keepers.”
“They’re not fighters or soldiers, Grier.”
“I don’t know. I’ve seen you throw a javelin.”
She blushed a little.
Urla cleared her throat. “Adalai, that sounds a little different from Orr.”
“What do you mean—?”
“You know what I mean.”
