by J. A. Comley
The majority of those gathered murmured their agreement with the Baron's words, eyeing the High Lord furtively, still trembling in fear of him.
Larkel clenched his hands into fists, the wood of his staff hurting as it pressed into his flesh, and concentrated on his breathing again. If the King remained true to form, he would get a chance to speak, too.
“Secondly, Larkel offered to be this stranger's 'guide'.” He said the word awkwardly, as if that were not quite what Larkel had offered. “Why, I ask you, would our High Lord choose to be with a stranger to our city, instead of concentrating on his duties to defend our city? Why, other than my fear that he has been bewitched, would he choose a seemingly-human girl over the citizenry of this City?”
Larkel's teeth snapped together. Many of the gathered nobles and Makhi were looking at him, anger coming through the fear now, agreement with the Baron plain on their faces. The High Lord, in whose hands they had placed their safety, if not their trust, had betrayed them again. This time for a stranger.
“Thirdly,” the Baron continued, ignoring Larkel's ever growing rage, “he, by allowing himself to become more deeply involved with Starla, commits High Treason by revealing to her our secrets. He reveals to her the Queen's misfortune, a secret kept explicitly to prevent the very panic we now witness outside these windows.” The Baron made his tone turn heavy, as if weighed down by the disappointment and betrayal. “He revealed to her how his Shield worked, told her about the Sacred Stones. And I cannot help but believe that that was her reason in coming here.” He paused briefly as the nobles nodded. “Fourthly, tonight, she used tales of long lost Soreiaphin and magical amulets to get you, High Lord, to leave her unguarded, against the King's command. To have you, the King and the High Commander – the three most powerful and important members of Galatian society – distracted while she implemented her plan.”
The crowd gasped.
Slowly, the Baron turned to look up at Larkel, not flinching at the indigo fire that blazed in his eyes. “You let her control you. You let yourself believe that she loved you. Now, you may just have handed the City over to Lord Kyron on a silver platter. Just as Starla intended all along. Was bedding her really worth it?”
Larkel felt his tenuous grip on his self-control vanish as the Baron uttered his last sentence. In one swift motion he swung his staff around and smashed the butt of it into the Baron's nose. The satisfying crunch of breaking bone echoed through the silent chamber.
“Brother, control yourself!” Naleiya hissed, her eyes both pleading and angry as she jumped between him and the Baron.
“Larkel, please,” Commander D'Ordeley said sternly, “If you attack the Baron again, I will be forced to arrest you. Whether you use magic or not.”
The High Lord gave no indication of having heard his sister-in-law. His indigo eyes were still ablaze and locked on to the Baron as Makhi Ditte healed his nose.
“We will look into your claims, Baron,” the King said, his voice grave.
“What!” Larkel spluttered, ripping his eyes from the Baron and spinning around to face the King. “My King, please! You can't actually believe … give me a chance to address his claims.” He spat the last word.
Before the King could answer, another Makhi entered the throne room. Those closest to the doors gasped in horror and scuttled away from her.
She walked slowly forward, clearly concentrating on the floating object before her. Larkel felt his stomach knot as he saw that it was a book and it was dripping with blood. A wave of pain followed as he guessed whose blood it was.
“My King, High Lord,” the Makhi said respectfully, seeming oblivious to the tense atmosphere in the room. “I was ordered to bring any evidence surrounding the murder of Makhi Redkin Gullit straight to you.”
The King nodded grimly and motioned for her to continue.
Carefully, using a gentle brush of magic, she wiped the blood off the cover. Larkel drew in a sharp breath. It was the bird book he had given Starla just before leaving. His reaction to the book had been noted by everyone. His friends looked curious, the gathered people fearful and the Baron triumphant.
How carefully this has all been choreographed, Larkel thought bitterly.
“This book,” the young Makhi said, turning her gaze back to the King, “was found beneath Redkin Gullit's body.”
Another stab of pain shot through Larkel, quickly followed by rage as the Baron spoke again.
“Is there any indication of whose it is?” the Baron asked, though his tone made it clear that, thanks to Larkel's reaction, everyone present already knew.
The Makhi's eyes flickered quickly to the High Lord before she gingerly waved her staff and the front cover opened. Inside, plainly visible, was the message Larkel had written to Starla.
To my beautiful Starla
You have made my life whole again, given it meaning. It is yours now.
I love you, always.
Larkel.
A shocked silence filled the hall. No one even appeared to breathe. Only the Baron moved, shaking his head knowingly, his faked expression of horror not entirely hiding his smug smile.
“Are … are there any other markings?” Commander D'Ordeley managed to ask.
Still shooting fearful glances at the High Lord, the Makhi used magic to flip through the pages of the book. Just before she got to the end, Larkel spotted a jagged edge, the remnants of a torn out page. He saw it but he did not understand its meaning. His mind held space only for rage, for the deep, burning hatred of the man who had made Starla look like a monster, and the intense pain of Redkin's loss.
He looked up at the King, desperate now for permission to speak.
The King shook his head and rose to his feet. “I am sorry, Larkel, there is simply too much evidence. Niden, follow protocol.” With that, the old monarch left, motioning his Makhi to remain with his grandson.
Prince Niden wrenched his horror-struck gaze away from the book, turning his wide, blue eyes on Larkel, all his boyish flare gone.
“We—” The Prince had to clear his throat. “With the shield down, Kyron's attack will come soon. We must prepare. All of you, please return to your homes, quietly. Commander Medara, prepare the Hall of Justice for a command post. We will gather there at dawn to draw up battle plans. L… High Lord. You must hand over command of your … the Makhi to the next in line. They will restore order to the city, calm the people. You will obey your superior and attend the meeting or you will be imprisoned. Be there at dawn. Dismissed.” Though he kept his voice strong, the look in his eyes made Larkel want to scream.
How could they believe Starla capable of such horrors? How could they let the Baron's lies remove him from power?
Rubbing her temples, the High Commander began to give orders to her soldiers Naleiya touched Larkel's arm gently, her eyes pleading with him to pull it together.
Larkel sighed but nodded and they began making for the doors. As he passed, he heard the Baron very seriously describing to the gathered nobles how Starla had tried her charms on him, too, had tried to seduce him just before her Hearing.
The rage reared in Larkel, far worse than anything he had felt before. He hurled himself at the Baron, but not before surrounding them both in a hastily thrown up shield. All his restraint snapped and Larkel found himself hitting every inch of the Baron that he could find, while the few Makhi present battered against the shield, trying to stop him.
Moments later, an image of himself was launched into his mind. He recoiled from it. The man he saw was hideous, his face twisted in rage, his eyes, black pools, promising death. He followed the line of attack to the sender. Naleiya. She thought one word at him. Starla.
Larkel fell back, away from the bleeding Baron, and let his shield fall.
“Damn it, Larkel!” the Commander shouted, frustration etched into her face.
Quickly, her soldiers secured the High Lord while the King's Makhi kept his staff safely out of reach. Ditte was already crouched over the cursing Baron, he
aling all that Larkel's fury had broken.
“Take him to the Makhi dungeons,” the Commander said, heavily.
“No,” Naleiya began to protest automatically, although she knew her wife had no choice and that she didn't like it any more than Naleiya did.
The High Lord let the soldiers and Makhi drag him outside. He welcomed the cold night air. It seemed to help clear his head, to stifle the remaining flames of anger and to gently, but firmly, push his grief to one side.
He ran through the evening, trying to figure out how things had ended up this way. He remembered asking his sister why Starla would leave without saying anything.
“She wouldn't,” he said out loud as another piece of information clicked into place. The ragged edges in the bird book. Right at the back where there were empty lines for notes. Feeling hopeful again, he felt a huge grin spread across his face.
The Makhi readied themselves nervously, their eyes fearful as they felt the tenor of his plans through the Seal, but thinking themselves safe while they kept his staff away from him. The guards looked suspicious but continued to frog-march him towards the tower.
“Forgive me, my friends,” Larkel whispered.
It was over in seconds. No one had a chance to utter a sound. The Makhi's feeble containment spells were useless. Taking his staff from the frozen grasp of one of the Makhi, the High Lord stood straight and, drawing in a deep breath, he swelled his powerful chest.
“She wouldn't,” he repeated, before launching himself around the side of the palace, heading straight for the secluded pond in the gardens.
***
The little pond glowed in the light of the full moons, now just past their apex. As soon as he arrived, he cast a spell at the water.
Larkel muttered a curse. It echoed loudly in the small space. The water of the pond tested positive for lightning fern acid and trace amounts of paper but nothing more. He cursed again, moving back to the entrance. There had to be something. Anything. His keen eyes swept the small enclosure, probing the shadows. Four tiny points of glowing light drew his attention to the shadows at the pond's base.
Darting forward, Larkel snatched up the four scraps of paper, like a drowning man grabbing at a life vest. He tried unsuccessfully to fit the pieces together, then read the words out loud, feeling his heart swell, knowing that he had been right. Starla had left a note, explaining. He tried again until he thought he had them in the right order.
at Gaby an
o kill them tonight, w
cause of me. I do
o go and help. Y
All my love, forever,
Someone had got here before him and torn up the letter. He looked around for any more scraps of the letter but without any real hope. They had all gone into the pond.
The Baron, no doubt, he thought, bitterly.
So, she had left to help Gaby. The High Lord shook his head. What had convinced her to leave? Without him? He looked at the words again. She had written this in a hurry. His lips formed a thin line. Maybe she had been forced to?
Acting on his suspicions that the Baron at the very least was responsible for shredding the letter, he raised his staff and touched its topmost crystal to the ground. “Aure Braxton Malion,” he commanded.
Out of the chaos of footprints, mostly made by the City Guard in their search for Starla, one set began to glow in a faint grey light.
“Larkel!”
The Commander's bark halted the High Lord mid-stride.
Larkel looked regretfully at his sister-in-law, then at the small group of Makhi and guards she had behind her. They all looked back at him apprehensively, staves and swords held ready.
“I am sorry, my friend,” Larkel said, addressing only Medara. “but I cannot be in prison at the moment. Starla needs me. I won't be locked away while she is out there.” Although he had kept his tone soft, the Makhi all flinched at the implied threat.
Medara heaved a tired sigh. “Larkel, Galatia needs you. Look—”
“No, Medara, you look,” Larkel interrupted, striding forward and handing the Commander the scraps of paper in his hand, ignoring the anxious looks of the Guards and Makhi, who had all tensed at his abrupt movement.
“Starla didn't leave without reason. She wrote that note on the back page of that bird book. She left it here for me to find. Someone,” his tone making it clear whom he thought it was, “tore it out of the book, shredded it and tossed it into the pond and then took the book. Any Makhi here can do the test that will prove that paper and lightning fern ink was thrown in there sometime in the last few hours.”
The Commander opened her mouth, about to point out how that didn't absolve Starla of any of the Baron's claims, but Larkel raised his staff and all present except the High Commander flinched back automatically.
“She did not leave this place and go back into the city. She left straight for the forest to help Gaby. I can prove it.” He touched his staff to the ground again. “Aure Starla.”
A second set of footprints lit up, this time in a faint, rose-tinged gold.
They led in from the garden paths to the stalls and then away, taking the shortest path through the gardens towards the Outer Wall. “See?” Larkel said, impatiently, as he wondered again how she had known where to go from here, how she knew of the breach in the wall. His brow creased in frustration.
“Whose are these?” the Commander asked, in a business like tone, indicating the grey footprints. They had entered the enclosure the same way Starla's had, but they left through the hedges, cutting a path directly for the Tower wall.
“The Baron's,” spat Larkel, forgetting his brooding for a moment and following the tracks to the hedge, where a brighter grey aura lingered.
The High Lord reached out, his fingers closing around something cold and hard.
He held out the cufflink he had seen to the confused Commander. “It bears the Baron's crest. He was here, although he denied it earlier. He headed for the towers to get the Stones.” Larkel nearly growled as the urge to throttle the Baron intensified again.
“Larkel,” D'Ordeley cautioned, knowing her brother-in-law too well.
“Come on, sister, you know me. For years, now, we have worked together. You know I always put Galatia's safety before all else. All these horrors tonight, they're the Baron's doing … his and his followers. He is the one who should be locked up.” He sighed. “And yes, I love her. I need to know that she is safe.”
The High Commander considered the High Lord in silence, trying to maintain an objective position. It was true that if Larkel had given Starla the bird book only after they came here together, and she didn't return to the city, then someone must have stolen it and placed it under Makhi Redkin's body. They, then would be the prime suspect in his murder.
At length, she spoke, her tone sure and authoritative.
“You are right, High Lord. These findings must be presented to the King and council and, being caught in a lie, the Baron will have to submit to questioning under a Verelios Beam.” She held up her hand as Larkel took a step towards the palace. “No, your antics in the throne room will diminish the validity of the questioning,” she said, “and are the reason you're under arrest in the first place,” she added in a harsher tone.
Larkel rocked back on his heels. “I cannot be in jail at the moment,” he repeated through gritted teeth.
Medara shook her head. “No, you are of no use to Galatia locked up. Please, just let these men escort you home. There, you can plan, do something. We have no Shield, Larkel,” she reminded him, nodding grimly as the High Lord flinched at the reminder. “I mean it. Go home and stay there until I come for you. The Baron will be questioned. We will find her.” She took the cufflink from him.
With a last, penetrating look at the High Lord, the High Commander gave her soldiers orders to return to the palace to round up the Baron, as well as his fiancée and Makhi Ditte, who had found the body. She told the Makhi to escort their High Lord home.
With difficulty, Lark
el kept his face smooth as Medara gave her orders and left at a trot for the palace, her soldiers close behind. He listened to their retreating footsteps, wondering how far Starla had got before one of the Baron's followers caught her. He knew the Baron wanted her. He felt sick thinking of what might await her. The whole story about Gaby had probably been a trick, a trap to lure her away, her trail leading to the forest, just a decoy. The Baron had to be keeping her prisoner somewhere.
His resolve hardened and he gathered his magic, shaping it to his will, then loosed it. Not through his staff, which was unthreatening, pointing at the ground, but out behind him. The Makhi slumped to the ground, unconscious, struck by the quick and sudden spell. Larkel breathed a quiet sigh, feeling thankful that his sister had not been accompanying her wife.
Concentrating, he sealed off his connection to the other Makhi, to the rest of his Order. He wanted no more pointless attempts to stop him.
He turned his back on the prone Makhi and left the little enclosure at a fast jog. Not for his own house, but the Baron's.
Chapter 14
Abyss Valley
Starla twisted her ankle again as the drodemion's relentless pace dragged her through the unbreakable dark of Kyron's stronghold. Sometimes, the drodemions ported forward again, travelling many miles in an instant, as they had just after Gaby screamed. Their magic made a journey that should have taken many months, mere hours long.
As soon as they entered Kyron's domain, she knew it. The magmus accompanying them had relaxed, no longer circling its position with its red eyes raking the ground. Instead, it flew with its head held high and lazy, booming wing-beats carrying it through the dark.
