“I don’t see what that has to do with me,” Jazlyn said.
“You helped him!” Ulrik said. “You let him hide here while he gathered his strength and made powerful allies with the giant tribes.”
“So?” Jazlyn said.
“So, you owe it to us all to fix the trouble you caused. As I said, the Jiir-Yeke giants are marching on New Sarikar. You will use your magic to stop them.”
Inolah stared at her son. “Ulrik . . .”
Jazlyn’s shock came out in a breathy laugh. “I have no war with the Jiir-Yeke.”
“You want your own nation again,” Ulrik said, “but if Barthel Rogedoth takes control of the Father Realms, know that he will not stop there. He will come after all who wronged him, especially those who stole his harvest of new evenroot.”
At this Jazlyn shot to her feet, her face a mask of rage. “You are spying on me? How?”
Ulrik’s soft laughter broke the silence.
“Why are you laughing?” Jazlyn asked.
“I cannot believe I ever thought you a clever woman. This very day I gloated over knowing your mind, yet you do not seem to comprehend what that means. My magic allows me to know you fully, my dear. It allows me to be you, should I wish it. But . . . if you will defeat the Jiir-Yeke at New Sarikar, I will promise to stay out of your head.”
“Your promises mean nothing,” Jazlyn said.
“I know I can be trying, I do,” Ulrik said, “but on this I swear to agree.”
“That alone and I can go?” Jazlyn asked.
“No,” Ulrik said. “If I’m to remove my compulsions and stay out of your mind, you must not only defeat the Jiir-Yeke, you must give me my children and swear to leave us in peace.”
“The children are mine,” Jazlyn snapped. “They will be raised in New Tenma.”
Ulrik leaned forward. “I will not negotiate on the children.”
“Nor will I,” Jazlyn said.
“My love,” Ulrik said, gazing longingly at Jazlyn. “I beg you be reasonable.”
Again tears filled Jazlyn’s eyes. “You’re right.” She nodded, dabbing her eyes with Qoatch’s handkerchief. “Children need their father.”
“He is manipulating my Great Lady,” Qoatch said. “We will sign no contract if he continues in this manner.”
“Ulrik, you promised,” Inolah said, though she felt like things were already out of hand.
“What if,” Qoatch suggested, “you each raise a child?”
Jazlyn glared at him. “Give up one of my children?”
“Out of the question,” Ulrik said.
“I too would hate to see them separated,” Inolah said.
“They are already separate,” Qoatch said. “They each have their own nurse, and as they grow older, they will learn different things, based on their gender. My guess is that you would readily agree as to which child you each prefer.”
“My son,” Ulrik said at the same moment Jazlyn said, “Jahleeah.”
Eventually they drafted a contract that both were willing to sign. Emperor Ulrik would keep Prince Jael, whom he called Adir, and Jazlyn would take Princess Jahleeah to New Tenma. The details of visitations would be worked out later. Ulrik would remove his compulsions only when the Jiir-Yeke had been defeated, Prince Adir was placed into his arms, and Jazlyn had left the area.
When Qoatch finally escorted Jazlyn to the door to leave, Ulrik called after her.
“If you betray me in any way, I will come after you with the full force of my magic. The slightest breach in this contract will be treated as an act of war. And I promise you, if I enter your head for such a reason, you will never know yourself again.”
Jazlyn drew in a deep breath, but before she could reply, her eyes softened and her bottom lip trembled. “I would never betray you, Ulrik. You are my heart. To hurt you would be to hurt myself and our children. I promise you, that I will never do.”
Qoatch glared at Ulrik and steered Jazlyn out the door. Ulrik’s laughter chased them out.
“Well, Mother? How did you like that?” Ulrik asked. “I not only got rid of my wife, I employed her one last time to fight the giants.”
“I am glad the two of you have made an agreement,” Inolah said. “But, Ulrik, did you consult Princess Saria about this?”
“Why would I? She will know when I voice her the good news.”
Oh, her son. Sometimes he was the most colossal fool. “My concern is that Sarikar is a pious realm. Their abhorrence of magic was the cause of the Great Parting and the very reason the mother realms came to exist in the first place.”
“You think she will refuse Jazlyn’s help? Mother, that’s madness. Jazlyn is unstoppable. Without her aid, Sarikar will be decimated. That will put Saria in my debt, and now that I’ve gotten rid of my wife, I’ll need a new one. And I can’t marry just anyone.”
“Nor can you marry Princess Saria, Ulrik. She is betrothed to Hinckdan Faluk.”
Ulrik snorted. “She won’t marry a duke when she could marry an emperor. And, like I said, New Sarikar will be in my debt. When their council receives my offer of marriage, they won’t be able to turn it down.”
Grayson
Grayson jolted awake. Queen Mielle was bent over him, touching his arm. “I’m sorry to wake you so early, but we need your assistance.”
Grayson pushed himself up, gaping at the queen. “You’re all right?” After he’d carried Lady Eudora up from the dungeon last night, he’d fallen asleep watching the woman try to help the queen.
“Yes, Lady Eudora was able to break the spells. She and her brother have become quite adept at the skill. I’m so glad to see you well, Grayson.”
“Me too,” he said. “I mean, I’m glad to see you.”
She smiled, which made Grayson feel like a hero. “I know it’s early, but Shanek DanSâr is going to return this morning, and there’s much to do before you must face him.”
Grayson swallowed, his throat dry. “I’m ready, Your Highness, but . . . Duke Canden?”
“Still missing in the Veil, I’m afraid.”
Grayson glanced at the Duke’s body, lying on a longchair not far from his. “Because he came for me?”
“According to Miss Onika, it was because a Jiir-Yeke priest possessed of a dark spirit struck him. Do not fret. I’m sure Rosârah Zeroah will find him soon. In the meantime, Trevn needs you to go to him at once. He has several tasks for you.”
Grayson nodded and focused on King Trevn. He flew through the Veil to arrive in a small office beside a desk where the king sat alone, poring over maps.
He moved into the physical realm. “Good day, Your Highness.”
The king jumped. “Ah, Master Grayson, good dawning. I’m relieved to see you alive and well. You are well, aren’t you?”
“I think so, sir.”
“Good, good. We have a hard day before us. Are you prepared?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
The king sighed. “It’s daunting, I know. But if Arman is with us, who can stand against us?”
Grayson shrugged. “I guess so.”
“Don’t guess, Grayson. Believe it.” The king stood and sat on the edge of the desk. “Now, I need you to carry Lady Eudora to Hinck, where she will be tasked with removing the compulsions placed upon the giants in Tace Edekk’s army.”
“Can she do that?” Grayson asked.
“She did well enough for my wife, and I have offered her a pardon, should she succeed. I hope that might increase her effort.” He grinned. “I also need you to carry my King’s Guards here along with my armor and sword and my personal copy of the Book of Arman. It’s in a leather satchel in my chambers. Hawley will know where.”
Why would the king need a book? “Is there something written that will help us?”
“Most certainly. And I want to carry the book into battle. Arman will take care of our enemies. He will triumph this day.”
Grayson wished he had the king’s confidence. “I can do that, sir.”
“
Excellent. And there’s one more thing. Shanek DanSâr has killed Lord Idez and has demanded to see Oli Agoros at morning bells. Might you be able to lure Shanek out of the castle? I saw Chieftess Charlon throw green fire, like the kind you make. Have you ever tried to throw it?”
Grayson nodded. He’d played with it out over the lake before. “You want me to throw fire at Shanek?”
“To make him angry, yes. Then lead him on a chase. You might have to stall every so often and let him insult you or attempt an attack, just so that he thinks he is getting close. It will be your job to keep him busy—outside the castle, if you can—and away from the main battle at all costs.” He winced. “I am sorry to put so much on you at once. Are you up to all these tasks?”
“Always, Your Highness.” Though today, it was scary.
“It is like a dance, what you do,” Lady Eudora said after Grayson carried her through the Veil to the New Sarikarian border house. As he led her into the newly constructed fort, she took hold of his arm, which both embarrassed him and made him feel like a hero.
Everything inside was freshly sanded wood. Nothing had been painted. The office door had only a fabric drape nailed over the entrance. It shifted aside, and several men exited, including Hinckdan Faluk. Since Grayson and Lady Eudora were blocking their path, the men slowed to a stop, taking them in. The duke seemed particularly surprised to see Lady Eudora, though Grayson knew King Trevn had spoken to his mind about this already.
The duke bowed his head. “Lady Eudora, welcome.”
Those sparkling eyes fixed upon Hinckdan. “It’s good to see you again, Your Grace.”
“You must start right away, lady,” he said. “I’ve prepared a place for you in my office.”
“Are you certain that is proper?”
“This fort is our command center and will have people coming in and out constantly. The office will give you some privacy.” He inclined his head to Grayson. “Thank you, Master Grayson, for bringing the lady.” And the duke turned on his heel and beckoned for Lady Eudora to follow him inside.
“Well, he’s all business today, isn’t he?” the lady whispered to Grayson, eyebrows raised.
“We are at war, lady,” Grayson said.
He then left and carried the King’s Guards to the central border house along with the king’s armor, weapons, and his Book of Arman. After that, Grayson returned to Armanguard and found Sir Kalenek and Lady Islah waiting in the mind-speak classroom. Shanek had not yet arrived, but his guards still held the great hall. Sir Kalenek told Grayson to go there and hide in the Veil. He and Grandmother would come in to have breakfast and to meet with Shanek. Grayson must remain hidden until Sir Kalenek told Shanek that Duke Canden was gone. Once Shanek lost patience, that would be Grayson’s cue to come out of hiding and lead him away.
Grayson was ready, but he wasn’t at all certain Shanek would follow.
The morning bells rang, and Grayson was still hiding in the Veil, watching people eat. His stomach growled. He’d been too busy to get himself any breakfast.
A few minutes later, Shanek appeared on the dais and sat in King Trevn’s throne. His soldiers all jumped to attention. Since Shanek could see into the Veil, Grayson popped into position where he might be better hidden, behind the soldiers disguised as servants who were clustered in the front corner of the hall, holding various trays and pitchers. He slipped his hand into the physical realm long enough to steal a slice of bacon from a servant’s tray.
The double doors at the opposite end opened, and Sir Kalenek and Lady Islah entered. Though their hands were empty, they walked side by side, purposeful and confident—like warriors come to battle.
Shanek stood from King Trevn’s chair. “What is she doing here?” he asked.
“Do you know me, Shanek?” Islah asked. “Because we have never met.”
“I know who you are,” he said.
“I have come to meet my great-grandson. And to speak with Dendron.”
“We don’t want to talk to you.” Shanek looked away from Islah, turned his glare on Sir Kalenek. “Father, I have been more than patient. Where is the Duke of Canden?”
“I’m afraid he was struck down in battle,” Sir Kalenek said.
Shanek narrowed his eyes. “What battle? Where?”
“Attempting to rescue Grayson, son of Jhorn, from a Jiir-Yeke temple sacrifice,” Sir Kalenek said.
Shanek snarled. “The duke could not have traveled so far in such a short period of time.”
“He traveled though the Veil,” Sir Kalenek said. “And now he is lost.”
Shanek lifted his hand between them. “I am finished with your lies, Father.” Green light sparked between his fingers. “You leave me no choice.”
That looked like Grayson’s cue. He stepped into the physical realm and pushed through the crowd, taking another slice of bacon off the servant’s tray. “I’ll take you to his body.”
Shanek’s head turned as he located Grayson. “You! It’s true, then? The Duke of Canden rescued you?”
Grayson stepped forward slowly, chewing his bacon and trying to look braver than he felt. “He did. But he was lost to the Veil. If you want to see his body, I can take you to it.” He popped to the double doors.
“Where did he go?” Shanek yelled.
“I’m here!” Grayson yelled, watching him from down the aisle.
The moment Shanek vanished, Grayson popped to the foot of the spiral staircase in the foyer. He waited until Shanek appeared in the doorway of the great hall. “This way!”
Shanek thrust out his hands. Green fire sizzled from his palms like bolts of lightning. Grayson dropped to his stomach to avoid being hit, then popped into the Veil by the ceiling. The firebolts struck the front entrance, catching fire to the double doors.
“You missed!” Grayson yelled.
Shanek spotted him and let fly two more streams of green fire. Grayson popped behind him and felt a coldness in Shanek, similar to what had been inside the Jiir-Yeke priest.
Grayson watched the flames blacken the white stone ceiling and decided he’d better take Shanek out of the castle before he burned it down. “Well, that made a mess.”
Shanek spun around, a sword of green fire arcing out. Grayson popped away, but not before the blade nicked him and fire blazed up his arm. He cried out and appeared in the bailey beside the sentry wall.
“Grayson?” Onika called. “What is happening?”
Shanek appeared, and Grayson fled through stone wall of the garrison house. Light vanished as he zipped through the tiny space, until another green flame lit the room. He fled through the outer wall, then popped to the distant practice field, which was empty today.
“The green fire burned my arm,” Grayson voiced. “But he’s still chasing me.”
Bit by bit Grayson lured Shanek toward the field. Anything to keep the Deceiver distracted and away from the battle.
Hinck
Hinck and two dozen Sarikarian bowmen climbed to the parapet of the border house. The structure had only been built two levels high, and the parapet was still unfinished timber at this point, but even that much height afforded them a better view of the approaching enemy.
The bowmen spread out along the sentry walk of fresh, roughhewn planks. Hinck took position in the center, where he hoped all would be able to hear his orders. A look through his grow lens showed no sign of attackers.
“How close are the giants now, lady?” he voiced Eudora.
“They are just about to enter the clearing.”
“And the compulsions? Have you broken any?”
“I have tried,” she said, “but I don’t understand the giant’s tongue.”
“Voice Master Grayson,” Hinck said. “If he shares your mind as you enter the giant, he will be able to translate.”
“I’ll ask him,” she said.
Movement directly east caught Hinck’s eye. The bright red capes were unmistakable, but a more careful look through his grow lens revealed black uniforms emblazoned with Ho
use Edekk’s snake and goblet sigil. This must be the group coming along the road south.
“Enemy due east,” Hinck yelled. “Wait until they’re in range.”
The men grew silent as the enemy approached. Because of the unfinished palisade, the army had hammered hundreds of stakes into the ground, creating a fence of sharp points to skewer enemy cavalry. General Norcott had positioned the infantry behind the stakes, outside the partially built fort. Most carried swords, but the general had stationed pikemen in the front, as he believed the weapon more effective against cavalry and giants.
Among the advancing enemy, Hinck spied some brown uniforms in with the red and took another peek through his grow lens. Giants. Hinck shuddered. He hated to kill the giants, knowing they were compelled and might retaliate in a separate war, but he would not let his infantry fight them if he could help it.
“Master Grayson is dealing with Shanek DanSâr,” Eudora voiced. “He cannot help me.”
“Continue to try your best, lady,” Hinck said, frustrated. Then to the archers, “Draw, but wait for my word.” He raised his bow and set an arrow.
All across the parapet bows went up.
“Miss Onika,” he voiced. “We need Veil warriors to storm the giants. Can you help us?”
“We will come at once, Your Grace.”
“Ready your aim. Draw . . .” Hinck’s stomach fluttered, but he otherwise felt quite healthy. It wasn’t until he drew back that his chest wound twinged.
He watched the approaching riders—fixed the line of his arrow upon one near the front. His gaze flicked to the trees behind the riders. The wind was blowing softly to the south. He compensated for it, paused. “Fire!”
Hinck loosed his arrow, which flew with a volley of others through the air toward the riders. Shields were raised, though some not fast enough. Hinck’s target fell. As arrows rained upon the enemy, four fell from their horses, two horses reared, and some riders left the line. The vast majority held course.
“Draw at will!” Hinck yelled, setting another arrow. He again struck down one of Edekk’s men, and in this manner, he shot in a steady stream. The enemy neared the infantry line, and too many giants still rode in the charge. “Take out the giants!” If they reached his infantry, the men would be slaughtered.
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