Shadows of Uprising (Guardian of the Vale Book 2)

by Tamara Shoemaker

  Jayme's cold, brown eyes twitched once, his mouth rigid and unyielding. He gave her no answer.

  The door opened, and Sprynge entered the room, followed immediately by Simeon Malachi and Beatrice Pence. All three halted when they saw her.

  “Alayne,” Sprynge exclaimed. He stared at her, a slow smile spreading across his face.

  In a moment, Alayne felt all four elements whipped upward and out of reach.

  Skies! She should have done that first. Now Pence held the earth, Sprynge the fire, Jayme the air, and Malachi the water.

  She pushed herself to her feet, surveying them all, anger stirring inside her. They were responsible; because of them, she had lost Jayme. Because of Malachi, she had lived for a year with the idea that he was dead. Because of Pence, she had been humiliated and her parents threatened. Because of Sprynge, she had been betrayed.

  She spoke, and the anger shook her voice. “Which one of you is Jayme's Caster?” She glanced over at him, but he sat woodenly on the bed, his head drooping, all animation gone from his features.

  She whipped back to the other three. “WHICH ONE OF YOU IS IT?”

  A footstep sounded to Alayne's left. The bathroom. Except it wasn't a bathroom. A light switched on, revealing an adjoining bedroom.

  “Is there a problem, Miss Worth?” Tarry stood in the doorway in a red velvet robe, her hands on her hips, a smirk across her face. She made no attempt to hide it. The power of it was almost palpable. It had been veiled before, but now, radiating from Tarry's entire being, Alayne could feel the powerful bend of the Caster.

  Chapter 28

  “Tarry!” Fury flushed through Alayne.

  Tarry shrugged. “Or General Tarry Shane Beckyr. Whichever you prefer.”

  Alayne looked around at the others as they stared at her. “All of you have been planning this from the beginning.” Accusation shook her voice. She swallowed to steady it.

  “Of course.” Tarry's voice was calm, as if she were discussing details of a board meeting. “Why don't you have a seat, Alayne. We can discuss some things I've been hoping we could go over soon.”

  Alayne searched for any sign that Daymon was still present. When the other three had come in, they had left the door open. He may have made a run for it.

  He wouldn't do that. She mentally shook her head. He'd proven himself to be beyond loyal to her by this point. He's got to be somewhere in here. Unless he went for help.

  She turned for the sofa, sitting uneasily, constantly reaching for the elements. They still hung out of reach. Jayme sat drooped on the bed like a puppet with no strings, and there was no sign of life in his eyes.

  “What do you want?” Her tongue felt as if it were stuck in plaster.

  Tarry laughed, a light, trilling laugh, as if the question amused her. She sat down next to Alayne, and brushed imaginary lint from the seat cushion between them. “Want? You know what we want, Alayne. Don't make us ask for it; you've known for a long time now what our objective is.”

  Alayne's thoughts scattered into a thousand tangents. Finally, she asked the question that had plagued her since she'd seen Jayme earlier that day. “Why him? Why Jayme?”

  Tarry stared at her, her lips pursed. “Are you really so dense? He could be used to blackmail you into joining the Elemental Alliance. If you don't use the Vale for the purposes of the EA, we rip his heart out. Or perhaps only a finger or toe or two until you capitulate. But that wasn't all of it.”

  Alayne's throat was dry, burning, and rough like hot sand. “It wasn't?”

  “No. Did he ever tell you who his parents were?”

  Alayne's thoughts jumped to the few mentions he'd told her—Shadow-Casted, marched into the line of fire, killed.

  “Of course he didn't, the dear boy.” Tarry shook her head. “No, his parents were responsible for the first High Court ruling against Naturals, seven years ago. It was a case brought before the High Court—Cross v. East Daylen Basic School where the administration had tried to brainwash the Half-Natural Elementals in the school to deny their Elemental heritage, a nearly successful endeavor. John and Candace Cross were furious and took the case all the way to High Court, and the Justices ruled in their favor. It created a city-wide civil dispute; Elementals and Naturals took sides and everyone grew extremely angry. And then it happened.”

  “What happened?”

  “There was a death, a Natural killed by an Elemental, both young students at East Daylen. Everyone was horrified, no one knew what to do. There was an immediate moratorium on any related news as the media and the Continental Guard scrambled to contain the situation. The Crosses quickly withdrew their support of the case they'd begun, and lots of paperwork exchanged hands as the High Court tried to find a resolution.”

  “I fail to see what Jayme has to do with any of this,” Alayne said, glancing back at Jayme where he sat on the bed, his expression empty, his shoulders slumped.

  “Have you heard of splinter acts, Alayne?”

  Alayne frowned. “No.”

  “Splinter acts are provisions that hide inside High Court bills, and when legislation is brought to the floor and a proposal passes, the splinter acts go through as well. Cross v. East Daylen Basic School began a legislative session in the High Court that in essence would remove the discrimination against Half-Natural Elementals. Mr. Cross brought a proposal before the High Court bench that supported this legislation, but he also hid a splinter act in his proposal where the Continental Guard would draft Naturals into the army, but only if they were paired with an Elemental.”

  Alayne still didn't understand. Tarry rolled her eyes. “The Naturals would be Shadow-Casted, that is.”

  Alayne's eyes widened. Surely not. Jayme had never mentioned that his parents were for Shadow-Casting.

  “Of course, when the Natural student's death occurred and citywide panic threatened to destroy all the Crosses' plans, they backtracked, dropping their proposal, pretending all sorts of solidarity with the Naturals. Trouble is, Alayne, it was a good thought. Quite a genius plan, really, that whole army Shadow-Casting thing.” Tarry's red lips moved into a hint of a smirk. “We tried to regain the paperwork for that splinter act, but it was sealed in the High Court, and the Crosses couldn't be talked into pulling it. They didn't have a choice. The Elemental Alliance—yes, we were around even then—Shadow-Casted them and smuggled them through High Court security, determined to regain the documents, planning to submit them again to the High Court. Of course, they were killed in the process, as you know.”

  “And Jayme is necessary to your plans to do that because...?”

  “Because when the proposal was set up, the signature lines could be signed by Mr. or Mrs. Cross, or one of their family.”

  Alayne's mouth dropped. “You took him... for a signature?”

  “Brilliant, right? He fulfilled his job quite well, signing all necessary papers for the splinter act, and he's been useful to us ever since, continuing the Crosses' vigilant efforts to rid the cities of Naturals.” Tarry waved the story inconsequentially aside. “Now, enough of that. Are you ready to use the Vale for the Alliance, Alayne? Now that you have a small idea of the Alliance's reach, will you help us?”

  Alayne darted a frantic look around the room; where was Daymon? “The Vale?”

  “Of course, the Vale.” Tarry's gaze grew hard as nails. “More specifically, your control of the Vale. We want you, Alayne, to come to the Capital, work with the Alliance. If you do,” she glanced over at the others, who eagerly watched the scene, “we'll let your parents go. Completely free. No obligations, no messy deaths.” One corner of her mouth raised into the semblance of a smile. She leaned back and tapped her long, red talons on the arm of the loveseat. “Now, how can you turn down that deal?”

  “Are you kidding? Turn myself in and essentially give you—” Alayne stopped and motioned to Malachi, Sprynge, and Pence who stood to the side, “—all of you unlimited power to use the elements as you see fit?” She laughed incredulously. “You really th
ink I'd help you do that? You're insane, Tarry. You may or may not have my parents; I don't know. I can't read minds. But I do know that they both would be the first to tell me I should never give in to your demands.”

  Tarry's gaze darkened, and a storm brewed across her face. “Then you, Miss Worth, have just made a mistake, and it's going to take you a while to recover from it.”

  Alayne felt the air element move, and her elemental senses homed in on Tarry as she struggled to anticipate what the woman planned.

  A crash echoed through the room. Malachi collapsed on his hands and knees, a groan issuing from his throat. He shook his head slowly from side to side and tried to push himself up, but Sprynge spun sideways with a startled yelp, his feet bashing into Malachi's face. The big man flopped senselessly to the floor.

  Sprynge groaned and rolled over, struggling to rise.

  “What's going on?” Pence's eyes were huge as she flicked her gaze from shadow to shadow around the room.

  Sprynge tried to stand up. “Someone else is in here.” The air element zinged back into Alayne's reach again like the twang of a harp string as Tarry sent a blast of air across the room.

  Daymon's tall, dark form in the corner startled Pence, and she screamed. The snarl on Daymon's face grew even more menacing.

  Sprynge pulled himself to a standing position, but with a powerful swing, Daymon smashed his fist into the man's eye, splintering his glasses lens. Sprynge's head snapped backward.

  Tarry bent the air element, and a set of heavy books behind Daymon lifted and flew at him full speed. He ducked, and they narrowly missed him, soaring over his head and crashing into the glass window behind Alayne's couch. The glass shattered, and keen-edged shards rained across Alayne's leg. The warm night air flooded the room.

  She jumped up, brushing away the glass, heedless of the cuts that would heal in the next few seconds anyway, and snatched the air element. Giving it a powerful pull, she blew a floor lamp from its place by the door and hurled it at Pence. The steel rod that held the lamp crashed into Pence, knocking her against the wall. With another harsh tug, Alayne switched elements and bent the metal-ore, wrapping it firmly around Pence's ankles, up across her thighs and waist, around her back. The lamp end of the pole blasted a hole into the drywall right next to Pence's neck. The woman stood trapped against the wall, unable to move.

  Daymon leaped over Sprynge, grabbing the air element and throwing books, lamps, an empty fishbowl that sat on a nearby shelf, and any items available and within reach at Tarry. She stood resiliently with her arms outstretched, blocking every obstacle.

  Daymon threw himself at her, his six-foot-one body impossibly huge next to her tiny frame, but a gust of wind shrieked through and blew him across the room. He landed head first against the door with a crash and lay still.

  Malachi was still unconscious, and the water element lay free for the taking. Alayne yanked the element from the pipes in the walls. It shot through the drywall plaster and sprayed the entire room, drenching everyone.

  She couldn't see through the jetting water; she could only feel. The people in the room around her, Jayme on the bed, Daymon next to the door. Her feet crunched over glass as she struggled away from the nearest jet of water.

  Jayme's strong hands grabbed her wrists, pushed her onto the couch where one of his knees covered her pelvic bones so she couldn't move. His hands pinned down her shoulders.

  “Enough, Alayne. That's enough.” His mouth spoke the words, but Alayne knew to whom they really belonged.

  “Never, Tarry.” Alayne's fingers clawed at Jayme's wrists. “You can't use Jayme against me.”

  From beyond the spraying water, Tarry's musical laugh floated. “Can't I?”

  All at once, Jayme let go, stood, crossed to a dresser and opened it. In the slice of moonlight through spraying water, the razor-keen flash of a black steel knife-edge glistened in his fingers before moving slowly to his own neck.

  “No!” screamed Alayne. “Jayme, no!” She reached for the air element, but Tarry jerked it out of reach. Another swipe told her that Malachi was awake again. The water stopped spraying, clearing from the room. Malachi slumped weakly, his wrist dangling over his propped up knee. The water element hovered shakily over her head.

  “Agree to come to the Capital, Alayne, to work with the Alliance.” The knife edged closer to Jayme's neck. Jayme's brown eyes twitched just once.

  Alayne pushed from the couch, tears intermingling with the water that already stained her face.

  She turned to Tarry, sagging against the back of the couch, her hand clutching the window sill. “I hate you,” she whispered. “I hate that you would kill him—without even giving him a chance to fight back, without his even knowing what he's doing.”

  Tarry narrowed her eyes. “You seem to be missing the point, Alayne.” The petite woman took a step toward her. “You would kill him. All I care about—all any of us care about—is the Vale. Now.” She moved purposefully back to Jayme where the razor edge of the knife had already sliced a shallow slit in his neck. His hand gripped the knife with rock solid firmness. “Do I get the Vale? Or does Jayme, an innocent, die?”

  Daymon's eyes fluttered open and met Alayne's. She cleared her throat. “So it's the Vale or Jayme's life? Those are my choices?”

  Tarry's eyebrows rose. “Those are it.”

  Alayne shook her head. “I'm pretty powerless; kinda ironic for the Quadriweave, isn't it? You each hold the elements, and I can't get them.” She swallowed. “I'm the cause of all this, aren't I?” She gripped the window sill tighter, gathering her courage. “I—I choose—” she stopped and gulped a breath of air. “I choose neither.”

  She shot one last glance at Daymon, and without a second thought, she hurled herself through the open window into the air.

  * * *

  The tower spun by her quicker than thought. Alayne flashed past the arching common room windows, barely registering the relaxed revelry that continued around the couches and game tables. Would her risk pay off? The ground flew toward her at an alarming pace, and still no air element. Her heart rate picked up; she twisted to stare up at the top of the spire, obscured in the darkness. The flashing beacon of light atop the shuttle platform was the only sign that the top of the spire was so far above her. She must be nearly to the ground now. She twisted once more.

  The tops of the trees speared her vision, and the sidewalk stretched just below.

  A gust of wind blew directly beneath her, rocketing her skyward again. Now the element was evident, vibrating with life within her grasp. She pushed herself upward even faster, arriving at the open window before a full five seconds had passed.

  Daymon looked up from where he held Tarry, her back to him, pressed against his chest. His hand held a knife to her throat. Pence was still fastened within her cage of steel, a wall of wind shrieking around her. Sprynge and Malachi huddled in the corner, their hands and feet tied together with an air knot.

  Daymon looked up when Alayne appeared and released a shaky breath. “You don't believe in doing anything the easy way, do you?” he muttered. “Your gamble paid off, Layne, but you just about gave me heart failure. Don't ever scare me like that again.”

  Alayne ignored him. She climbed across the couch, avoiding the broken shards of glass and planted her hands on her hips. She surveyed Tarry with disgust. “Before Daymon takes you far away from here, I want to know everything.”

  “Nosy, aren't you, you filthy little Half-Nat?” Tarry barked a laugh. Daymon's knife pressed into the translucent skin of her neck.

  Alayne set her jaw. “How long have you been a part of the Alliance?”

  Malachi let loose a burst of throaty laughter as he leaned against the wall. Alayne nailed him with her stare. “What?”

  “Part of the Alliance?” He cackled. “Girl, she is the Alliance.”

  “What do you mean?” Alayne snapped.

  “I mean that she's it. Whatever words ya wanna use for her—the brains, the skinny, the real
deal.”

  “Shut up, Malachi,” Tarry barked.

  Alayne took in this exchange, and she began to pace. “You've been with the Alliance since Dorner was Chairman?”

  Tarry said nothing.

  “Daymon.”

  Daymon's knife pressed harder. A thin trickle of blood edged its way from under his blade. Tarry gasped. “Yes, since before Dorner.”

  Alayne nodded. “And you had access to all the files on every student throughout the school? You had access to my mother's files?” She stopped pacing and stared into Tarry's face.

  Tarry jerked her head once to the side. “Dorner hid your mother's files, and yours never appeared; Dorner hid those, too.”

  Alayne nodded, thankful for Dorner's secret files in the fishtank. She glanced across the room at Jayme, who sat on the bed, his hands and feet bound with a knot of air. “And my parents? Where are they?”

  “I—I can't tell you that.” Daymon's grasp was nearly choking the woman; her face was bloodless, and she struggled for air.

  Alayne's hand whipped out, grabbing Tarry's face between her thumb and fingers. The woman's cheeks smashed into her teeth with the force of Alayne's hold. “You can tell me, and you will.” Alayne loosened her hold when Tarry struggled to talk.

  “They're at Alliance headquarters.”

  “And where, exactly, is that?”

  “The Capital.”

  Alayne pushed Tarry's face away and stepped back. She opened her mouth to ask about Kyle, but then bit back the words. Not yet. She needed to think first.

  “Okay, Daymon, take them to Grenton Village and get them to Manders and the LO. I'm done with them.” She spit on the floor at Tarry's feet, disgust for her, for the Alliance, for everyone involved, flowing through her veins. With a twist, she snatched all but the air element as Daymon's element bend flowed through the room. Daymon herded Malachi, Sprynge, and Pence toward the door as Alayne wrenched Pence's lamp-cage aside. The door opened in front of them.