by Chad Queen
Elon turned to Ashlyn and grinned. “There is one way.”
Ashlyn’s eyes grew wide. Of course.
“The Crossfort Ball,” they said in unison.
After the war ended, a grand ball was held at the castle to honor the military who guarded the key fortresses of Chalice and helped maintain the sovereignty of the young nation. It became devout tradition and served as an opportunity for military leaders who longed to rub shoulders with Toltaire’s elite. An invitation to the party could mean big things for a career, and in peacetime there was plenty of time to play politics.
“I’m not following; why would a ball help us get the Shard? Will security not be as tight?” asked Jace.
“No, if anything, security will be doubled. But we could end up walking out the door with the Shard without even having to steal it,” Ashlyn said.
Jace cocked his head. “I’m listening.”
She continued, “The ball is held once a year. And the aristocrats love to gamble, so they started using it as an excuse to gamble for the most sought-after treasure in Chalice.”
“The Shard?” Jace said, incredulous. “You’re telling me they just give away the most prized artifact in all of Chalice?”
“Not exactly,” Elon said. “In order to win the Shard for the year, you have to win a card tournament. It just so happens that no one has ever beaten our dear father.”
Jace rubbed his temples. “Okay, let’s assume for a moment we can do that. How will they both not be arrested on the spot? Aren’t they both wanted?”
“That is true,” said Elon, “…but if there is one thing my father hates, it’s scandal. He cares too much about appearances. If he arrests his own daughter and Protector of the Realm in public…well, that would be a scandal of epic proportions. No one outside the guardsmen know they are fugitives.”
“I’ve seen the papers calling the Skex invasion in Ceywind an act of cooperation with the Wraiths to track down raiders,” said Jace. “From what I’ve heard, a lot of people aren’t buying it. If the king were to lose any more credibility, it could be a tipping point.”
Both Ashlyn and Elon nodded, smiling.
“What’s the dress code?” asked Cade.
27
The Crossfort Ball
The Crossfort Ball, while a military event, possesses none of the austere trappings most military organized events are known for. No expense is spared on any detail, from the magnificent displays of Ancient artifacts to the custom hand-woven towels in the castle washrooms. It is an event of excess, meant to symbolize both the might and prosperity of Chalice.
—From The Toltaire Times
Cade looked into the mirror at the suit he was wearing. It was in the traditional military style, but it had been altered to his exact measurements and was made of a much higher-grade cloth than was typically afforded to soldiers. The collar was shortened to match modern tastes, and the jacket with Bearer-grade tungsten buttons gave him an imposing silhouette. He hardly recognized himself.
“Perfect fit, if I do say,” the tailor said, admiring her work. As a veteran, Cade was permitted to wear formal military attire, replete with the markings and awards earned during his tour of duty.
“You cut a striking figure, if I do say so. Even if the scenery is a bit ravaged,” the woman remarked. Cade noticed the cuts and scrapes on his hands and face. They couldn’t be helped.
He was assured the tailor could be trusted, but he kept a close eye on her nonetheless. Still, he couldn’t argue her skill with a needle. The old suit he had been issued after service fit like a used grain sack, and it felt like wearing one, too. This new suit was both stylish and comfortable.
“How do I look?” he heard Ashlyn say as she entered the room.
Cade turned around and thought for a moment he had reached Affinity with a phantom, because time stopped. Ashlyn was adorned in a long, flowing gown of gold, as if spun by the rays of the sun itself. The color complemented her auburn hair, which had been pinned up, save for a single long, stray lock that framed the side of her face.
He thought to say something, but the words failed him. He knew she was a princess, but tonight she looked the part, as if she had stepped right off the page of a childhood storybook.
“Hello? Cade?” She looked at him, concerned.
“I…uh…you look wonderful.” He cleared his throat and a knock came at the door.
“Are you decent?” Jace poked his head in. “Wow, you guys are quite a lovely couple.”
Cade could feel himself turning red. He glanced at Ashlyn and was surprised to see her doing the same.
He realized that up until now, he hadn’t really seen her as a princess at all. She wasn’t the carefree and entitled noble he had assumed when he first met her. She had a weight to her. Though she may never rule, she still carried the burden of an entire kingdom on her shoulders.
She smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back. Tonight, they both would be someone else. They would play the part of the storybook princess and her knight, going to the ball.
Elon rolled into the room. “The carriages are here. Ready?”
Cade and Ashlyn nodded to each other.
They took their train of assembled carriages to the ball, each one with special instructions to facilitate their departure. With so many of Toltaire’s elite en route to the ball with their own processions of carriages, they arrived unnoticed.
Cade slipped on his rings, which Elon’s guards had procured from the dungeon’s locker. The Rynthium ring was there as well; his captors must have had no idea what it really was.
The courtyard of the castle was bursting with people. Journalists shouted from behind cordoned holding areas as attendees strode toward the crowded entrance with raised chins and expressions of feigned indifference. Others negotiated with the guards, trying to find a way inside.
“You okay, Cade?” Ashlyn said, glancing at him as they walked, her arm linked around his.
His muscles were tensed. He was growing uncomfortable within the mass of people. His mind, tempered for battle, could not help but try to calculate optimal battle tactics in any situation. In crowds, however, there were too many variables.
“I’m fine. Let’s stay focused.”
As they approached the golden walkway to the entrance arch, the gathered crowd gasped. Seeing the princess with Cade was headline news. Shouts rang out from the crowd, calling their names. It was good to be noticed—their plan counted on it.
At the door, they were stopped by the guards, and Cade could see their eyes grow wide with recognition. They knew better than to risk a scene here, especially one that involved the princess.
As they entered the castle, a sweeping view of the main ballroom greeted them. It was lavishly decorated, with helixed streamers of small crystals running from each end of the room, and ice sculptures chiseled into scale models of the military forts that served Chalice. And of course, rare artifacts of the Ancients were on display. The Shard of Rynth itself had been hoisted high in the room, tonight’s prize for the victor. The ballroom floor was bustling with nobles in fine black suits and ladies wearing intricate gowns that spilled onto the floor like colorful paint.
Cade started to sweat. The opulence made him uncomfortable, but even more worrisome was their plan. He didn’t even like the word “plan.” Using the word inferred complexity. He didn’t like complexity.
“Are you sure your man is reliable?” he asked.
Ashlyn nodded. “He’s the best there is. He’s been my father’s exclusive card dealer for years, but he’s loyal to my Order. Now hush.”
The center of the ballroom was awash with colorful dancers, and skilled performers wowed the crowd with acrobatic feats as they hung from silk ropes suspended from high above.
The caller recognized them but gave no indication he was aware of their recent outlaw status. The man bellowed, “Miss Ashlyn Winshire, Princess of Chalice, attending with Cade Elegy, Protector of the Realm.”
Clus
ters of people within the ballroom stopped talking and looked to the entrance. The room was so quiet, Cade could hear music he hadn’t heard before being played from a stage in the back of the room. It was beautiful, and Cade guessed that more than one of the performers had practiced Coda.
The shocked guests turned back to their conversations, gossiping about this exciting new development.
More fanfare, exactly what they needed. The king would be hard-pressed to make a move now, though their appearance was sure to make him livid.
As if on cue, the king himself strode up to them. The man’s presence was intimidating. Following close behind him was a sizable entourage of guards and lackeys, but the king towered over them like they were schoolchildren.
“Elegy. I was not informed of your attendance. What, may I ask, brings you here?” The king’s voice was calm and even; he knew there would be many ears around them tonight.
Cade seized the opportunity. He projected his voice so those around him would hear his reply. “I have come to request my boon, Your Highness.”
Gasps rippled through the ballroom.
The king’s eyes narrowed for a split second and then relaxed when he caught himself. “I’m not sure I follow. To what boon are you referring?”
Ashlyn took the opportunity to speak. “Every person granted a title in Chalice is entitled to either property or a boon of their request. Cade was not granted property when he was named the Protector of the Realm, so he is here to request his boon, if you will it, Father.”
The king eyed her, his jaw set. He was not sure where they were headed with this, but he had no desire to make any more of a scene. Political power was his favored currency, and he was very careful how he spent it.
“Very well. Let me hear your request. I will grant it, if within reason.”
“I have only a small request of you, Your Highness,” Cade continued. “I wish to play in the tournament.”
The crowd erupted with a flurry of excited whispers.
The king raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Your boon is granted. You are welcome at the table this evening, Protector.”
Cade looked over at Ashlyn, who nodded. He could tell she was nervous. After her father threw her in prison, she didn’t know what to expect.
The crowd grew quiet, and Cade could hear the music once again. He knew this song.
Ashlyn grabbed his arm. “The ‘Vermilion Waltz!’ We have to dance.”
It still eluded him how she could be so wrapped up in one moment and completely forget herself in another. As mad as she seemed to him, a part of him wished he could do that. Unfortunately, he had never taken the time to learn the waltz. Or any dance, for that matter. He shook his head.
“Come on, I’ll help you. Just follow my lead!” She pulled him to an open space on the floor, took one of his hands in her own, and placed his other hand on the side of her hip. She stepped back and he stumbled a bit, not anticipating the motion. She smiled, and he tried again to follow. He stepped on her foot, causing her to wince. She took a deep breath, squared herself with him one more time, and began once more.
She whispered in his ear, “Don’t try to think too much. Just follow the music.”
Don’t think too much. The same advice he had given Ashlyn when she agreed to become a Bearer. Cade took a deep breath, and, much to his surprise, started to dance.
It was a bit awkward at first, since he was staring right at his feet. But his feet seemed to know what to do, and he looked up, meeting Ashlyn’s eyes. She was beaming at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back.
They continued to glide across the ballroom, but soon he was no longer following Ashlyn’s lead; she was following his. She looked confused for a moment but allowed him to take the lead, and their dancing began to flow with the notes of the music, their steps in harmony.
The ballroom guests around them began to give them room. More and more people from the party had dropped their conversations and began watching their perfect dance.
The realization hit him. Etan, his son, had known how to dance. And by bearing his phantom, now Cade could, too. Much to Cade’s dismay, Etan had not been interested in learning Coda from him, though Cade never gave up trying to teach him. He did enjoy dancing with his mother, though. Serafina loved to dance.
When Etan was old enough to walk, Cade could remember Sera laughing and dancing around the house with the boy. As his son grew older, he took a liking to dance, and Serafina taught him everything she knew.
And here he was, dancing as his son once had with his mother. Looking at Ashlyn, and seeing the joy on her face, it reminded him of Sera. He closed his eyes and moved with the music as it wafted through the grand hall. He imagined he was dancing with Serafina now, as he never had before.
Cade opened his eyes, holding back tears. Fool, he told himself. You are on a mission. His eyes met Ashlyn’s, and his heart skipped a beat. She was so beautiful, the way her bright green eyes sparkled, how the long stray lock of reddish-brown hair framed her face, and the way she seemed to smile just a bit more on the right side than on the left. He returned her gaze and then glanced at the wedding ring he still wore. I am a monster, he thought, breaking out of his reverie.
Ashlyn, who looked at him with concern, was about to say something when guards cut through the crowd, dragging a man with his hands clasped in irons.
Cade glanced at Ashlyn, whose face had paled. He didn’t need her to tell him that was their inside man.
He bit his tongue. I hate plans.
After the excitement died down, the caller quieted the room to make an announcement.
“Esteemed ladies and gentlemen of the Crossfort Ball, it is now time for the tournament!”
Cade took a deep breath.
“We should go,” Ashlyn said, grabbing his arm.
Cade stood his ground and shook his head. “Not until we get what we came for.”
She tried to protest, but he had already made up his mind. He weaved his way through the crowd to the Grand Table. The table was a masterpiece. Hewn from a solid block of wood of an ancient tree, the ivory grain of its surface was carved into a detailed rendition of the 128 songs from the Book of the Traveler. Cade snorted, doubting anyone in the room was a follower of the Traveler.
He looked at the men and women who had gathered at the table. He didn’t recognize any of them, save for one: General Tsori.
Tsori had the distinction of being stationed in the least desirable of all the forts in Chalice. Multiple days’ ride from the Pathways, the fort was ill-supplied and all but forgotten as a point of military significance. But the mines nearby were plentiful in ore, and the defense was needed to deter foreign pirates.
It was a dead-end career, yet Cade had heard rumors of servicemen who requested transfers just to work under Tsori’s leadership. Cade himself, having drafted in the Ends, served briefly under Tsori before being transferred to the front lines. The general noticed Cade approaching and nodded.
The rest of the participants took their seats, the king last of all. The king locked eyes with Cade from across the table. “Do you like the new dealer, Elegy? I figured we’d change it up for the big game.”
Cade looked at the dealer, who gave no indication she had heard the conversation. He needed to figure out how the king would cheat if he were to have a chance at winning.
“All right, everyone,” the dealer began, deftly shuffling her cards. “We’re playing the modified card format, ‘Wraith’s Rite.’ Everyone starts with ten thousand chips, and the first one to win them all wins the Shard until the next tournament. Ready to begin?”
Everyone at the table nodded, but the dealer was only looking at the king when she asked the question. The dealer started to deal the cards to the ten players at the table. When she had finished, Cade looked down at his cards. A red phantom, a blue phantom, and a wraith. A bad starting hand. He did his best to remain dispassionate. Time to do some reconnaissance.
Cade encoded with the Rynthium ring on his f
inger, and it took all the composure he had not to make it obvious as the transition swept him into the Firmere. He kept his hand on his knee so the ring’s movement wouldn’t catch any unwanted attention. Cade saw the world burst into thousands upon thousands of small pieces and dissolve into nothingness. He concentrated only on the group before him. Around him he saw ten wisps of the bright smoke, one of which was his own.
When it was the king’s turn to bet, he noticed the smoke flicker. A bluff?
Sure enough, another participant called his bluff and found that the hand was, in fact, weak. Now he just needed to figure out how he was cheating.
Cade played conservatively, taking time to monitor each player’s habits and how their Songs reacted as they played. If the king was cheating, he was showing no signs of it.
Getting nowhere, his chip pile began to dwindle.
“What’s the matter, Elegy?” the king said, grinning. “Not ready to play at the big table?” The king raised by pushing his stack to the center, challenging one of the men at the table. Cade encoded to the Rynthium.
Watching the dealer carefully, he noticed her Song swirl when she dealt the next card to the king. She was feeding him cards.
During the next phase, Cade encoded to a card in the deck, calling it to him, and broke the encoding a split second after, causing the pile to topple and require a reshuffle.
To the observers, it looked like the dealer had slipped. A look of horror washed across her face as she glanced at the king, who just glared at Cade.
After learning the tells of the other players with his Rynthium sight, Cade started to win more hands. Though unaided, the king was still a strong player, and his earlier aggressive playing style vanished in lieu of a more defensive strategy. Whenever he noticed the dealer reshuffling the cards, Cade made sure to pull again and force them to recut the entire deck.
The king flashed him another angry look as if to say, I know what you’re doing.
Cade remained impassive until all that remained were the king, the general, and himself.
