by AC Cobble
He scowled. They’d wait, but he wouldn’t. He was done running, done hiding, and done ignoring the world and the dark shadow looming over the kingdom. He was finished pretending he had no part in that darkness and that, by ignoring it, he was any better than those at the heart of the Investiture. He’d been born a part of it like so many others, but now he was ready to fight and to tear it all down. The princes didn’t need to come to Spinesend. He’d go to them.
Rew looked up the slope at the tower rising above him and sighed. After more years than he cared to think of, his head felt clear. He finally knew what needed to be done, but he had the children to watch out for now. They—very obviously—were not ready for what was to come. He could leave them, but he wouldn’t. He had work to do, and they were a part of it, and he was a part of them. Rew sighed. With any luck, all eyes would be on Duke Eeron. Whether the man had already fled or would attempt to stay and fight, Rew hoped Eeron would draw everyone’s attention. For any arrivals portaling into the city to see what had happened, they’d all be starting at the keep, and there was plenty there to keep them busy.
The party didn’t have a lot of time, but they might have enough.
Rew stopped walking. Zaine was sitting on a boulder looking down at him. Beneath her, purple in the fading light, was a giant pool of tacky blood. Rew put his hands on his hips.
“He’s hard to kill, huh?” she asked. “When we finally managed to climb down from the tower, he was already gone. I found bloody footprints, but they disappear two dozen paces through those bushes. There are marks where it looks to me he might have opened a portal and fled.”
Rew didn’t bother to check the thief’s claims. He found he trusted her instincts. Blessed Mother, he trusted her. He replied, “I told you, the commandant has the king’s own magic fortifying him. It’ll take more than a fall to do him in.”
“The box, the one Alsayer used to capture the wraiths, is gone as well,” said Zaine, gesturing around them. “At least, I couldn’t find it. Would he have taken it?”
Rew grimaced and nodded. “He’d take it if he found it. The others?”
“Anne is tired from healing, but she’s all right,” replied Zaine. “Raif’s leg is tender, and it will pain him to walk, but he’s confident he can make it to where we can hide in the city. Cinda is unconscious still, but her breathing and heartbeat are steady. Anne says it’s a deeper exhaustion than physical. She says Cinda needs sleep and some broth if we can find it for her.”
Rew shook his head.
“What?” asked Zaine. “You think someone is on your tail?”
“I hope not. Doesn’t much matter, though. We’ve got to leave.”
“Leave?” asked the thief. “Didn’t you hear what I just—“
“Zaine,” he interrupted, “we’ve a momentary interruption where all eyes will be on the keep, but it won’t be for long. Lingering allies of Duke Eeron, minions of the princes, the princes themselves! King’s Sake, the king—Pfah. What if Vyar Grund is actually still working for the king and that’s where he fled?”
Zaine raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think Grund is still working for the king?”
Rew shook his head. “Later.”
Zaine frowned.
“We have to find my sister,” declared Raif, stepping out of the gloom behind the thief. “She killed our father. We have to—we have to find her.”
“Revenge won’t make you feel any better about what happened, lad,” warned Rew.
His head dropping, the big fighter admitted, “I know. It’s not revenge I seek. It’s answers. Why did she do it? How did she grow to hate us so?”
“Didn’t she just tell you?” asked Rew.
“She’s all that’s left of our family, and family stays together,” responded Raif, looking back up to meet the ranger’s gaze. The three of them stood silently for a long moment. Then, Raif added, “Where else do we have to go? We can’t go back to Falvar, can we? You can’t go to Eastwatch.”
Rew crossed his arms over his chest. The boy had a point, but even if he didn’t, Rew wasn’t interested in going back to those places. The time for crouching in the Eastern Territory, pretending he couldn’t feel what was happening in the kingdom, was over. The time for action was now.
“Where would we even start?” wondered Zaine, fiddling with the hilt of one of her daggers. “Alsayer, I guess. Where we find that treacherous bastard, we’ll find Kallie.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” said Rew.
Anne joined Raif on the hillside. “I heard the lad, Rew. He’s right. Where else would we go? Tracking Alsayer will be dangerous but not much more so than running. Years ago, you told me that sometimes when you’re stuck in the brambles, the only way out is forward.”
“I was talking about actual brambles,” said Rew with a laugh.
Anne tilted her head, waiting on him.
Rew grunted and then told the group, “They went to Carff.”
“What?” exclaimed Zaine.
“How do you know?” demanded Raif.
“I smelled the air from Alsayer’s portal,” explained Rew. “There’s only one place that smells like that. I don’t know if they’ll still be there when we arrive, but I’ve got to… We’ve got to start somewhere. We may as well start with Carff.”
He left unsaid that Carff was the seat of Prince Valchon. Was it possible Alsayer was actually working for the eldest of the princes? Rew doubted it, but he was certain that was where his cousin had fled with Kallie Fedgley jumping after him. Looking for the eldest of the Fedgley children and perhaps stopping to visit the oldest of the Mordens while they were there… Why not?
“Should we find somewhere to rest tonight and leave at dawn?” wondered Raif, stretching his injured leg out in front of him and tentatively putting a little weight on it.
Rew shook his head. “I know it will pain you, lad, but we have to get out of Spinesend. We have to put leagues between here and ourselves. We’re no longer at the fringes of the Investiture—we’re at the heart of it. So wherever there are powerful people, we’ll be in serious danger. Right now, they know where we are, and I’d rather they didn’t. Besides, if you want to walk to Carff, it’s a long journey, and we won’t get there unless we get started.”
Raif looked as if he meant to object, but then, he acknowledged, “I suppose you’re right.”
Rew nodded. “I’ll gather your sister. With your leg healing, you’re in no shape to carry her.”
He moved up the hill to the base of the tower where the others had left the girl. He put his arms under her, and as he was lifting her, he heard soft footsteps behind him.
“How did you know your plan would work?” asked Anne. “Duke Eeron has some skill at invoking, does he not? He’s not strong, but strong enough to call your bluff if he’d wanted. If he’d opened a portal to Mordenhold, what would you have done?”
Rew smirked. “He never would have.”
“Bringing the king into this was dangerous, Rew,” said Anne. “I’m not certain the duke was even involved. It worked to get us out of that tower, but the king—”
“King Vaisius Morden is the last person in the kingdom that Duke Eeron wants to face,” retorted Rew. “You’re right, by the way, Duke Eeron wasn’t involved. It was the Arcanist Salwart who kidnapped Baron Fedgley, and he didn’t tell Eeron the whole truth. Salwart didn’t tell Duke Eeron they were holding Fedgley on behalf of Prince Calb. Duke Eeron has no idea what all of this is about. It’s almost enough to make you feel sorry for the man.”
“You’re sure?” questioned Anne.
“Duke Eeron either missed his calling of the stage, or he was telling the truth,” replied Rew. “Though, it doesn’t matter if he was behind it or not. No one would risk going to see the king.”
Anne looked worried. “If he talks…”
“Trust me. Duke Eeron won’t say a word of what happened to the king,” said Rew. “The princes won’t either, and I’d bet gold Vyar Grund is in the thrall of Prince Valchon.
None of them—even Alsayer, whatever he is up to—can afford the attention of the king. Vaisius Morden does not look kindly on this sort of thing.”
“How can you be sure no one will talk?” pressed Anne. “Rew, there’s so much we don’t—“
“They took Baron Fedgley because they’re plotting against the king,” interjected Rew. “That’s why none of them will talk. Even if they’re not behind the plot, none of the princes will risk their father’s wrath.”
“I don’t understand,” said Anne. “Why would the princes plot against the king? What would they gain from that?”
Rew started down the hill, Cinda in his arms, but Anne caught the sleeve of his tunic.
He turned. In a low voice, he told her, “If Vaisius Morden knew what Prince Calb had planned with Arcanist Salwart and Baron Fedgley, the king would have come here himself. He would have leveled Spinesend to stop it. And then, he’d start to wonder what the other princes knew. Alsayer has worked for all three, and others will have done the same. The Investiture is built on tangled webs of alliances and betrayals. Not even Vaisius Morden could sort it all out and be certain of which prince knows what. So instead, he’d stamp the betrayal out. All of it.”
Anne still looked worried.
“The Investiture doesn’t have to end with one of the princes taking the throne, Anne,” Rew told her. “The king does not have to relinquish his seat. If he finds one of his sons plotting against him, he’ll kill all the conspirators he can find, but would he allow the other two to continue the Investiture? Will he start all over again? The three princes are not the king’s only children. They’re just the oldest of his brood that can command high magic. There are other sons in Mordenhold who could replace the three, if the king desired. The princes know that, but they don’t know how their father will react to treachery in the family, so no matter what, they won’t risk him finding out about this.”
“If the king would have reacted like that… If he would come personally to kill Fedgley…” started Anne. She frowned and glanced at Cinda. “Rew…”
“I know,” said the ranger, shifting the unconscious spellcaster’s form. “That’s why we have to get away tonight.”
“What are they planning to do with her?” questioned Anne.
“It’s best you don’t know,” said Rew. “I wish that I did not. If I told you, you’d be in as much danger as the lass. While the Mordens rule, she’ll never be clear of it. It’s too late for her. But as long as you don’t know, Anne, then maybe one day you can be free.”
“You have to tell me something,” insisted Anne.
“Let’s take the children to Carff,” said Rew. “Alsayer and Kallie went there, though I’ve no idea if they’ll stay. Wherever he goes, I need to find that bastard spellcaster and talk to him. He’s known this entire time… I need to find out what else he’s hiding.”
“You want us to follow you while you keep deadly secrets from the group?” questioned Anne.
“Have faith in this,” said Rew. “It’s a long journey to Carff, and we’ll never make it if we don’t leave now. We can’t let the princes find Cinda, Anne. The princes, the king, none of them can find her.”
Without further word, they left, and they walked through a city buzzing with word of the turmoil and rumors about what had happened at the keep. They walked through the gates of the city moments before they were closed, and then, they walked long into the night.
Thanks for reading!
My biggest thanks to the readers! If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be doing this. Those of you who enjoyed the book, I can always use a good review—or even better—tell a friend.
My eternal gratitude to: Felix Ortiz for the breath-taking cover and social media illustrations. Shawn T King for his incredible graphic design. Kellerica for inking this world into reality. Nicole Zoltack coming back yet again as my long-suffering proofreader, joined this round by Anthony Holabird for the final polish. And of course, I’m honored to continue working with living legend Simon Vance on the audio. When you read my words, I hope it’s in his voice.
Terrible 10… you know.
Thanks again, and hope to hear from you!
AC
Want more? Remove the Shroud: The King’s Ranger Book 3 is scheduled for an April 1st, 2021 release!
To check out my other books (I have a lot), find larger versions of the maps, series artwork, my newsletter, and other goodies go to accobble.com.
