“You might be confusing me with my brother,” Cassie said before stepping close to the machine. “Still, a little excitement might be just the thing I need.” Her voice carried a tone of resignation, as if she were talking herself into the act.
Cassie climbed in, followed by Everson, his Chaos-powered legs expelling a puff of compressed air as he stepped into the interior of the metal contraption.
Everson pulled the door closed with a clang and secured it. Turning, he found Ivy and Cassie already seated. He climbed past the front seat to stand in the driver’s position, his back against the panel that ran from floor to ceiling and divided the driver’s position from the main cabin. Through the window above the converted boiler, he saw the road before him and the masters waiting in the distance. He gripped both drive levers and spoke over his shoulder.
“The structural changes, combined with Chaos conduction, should make this thing much faster than a standard steam carriage. I suggest you hold on and remain seated.”
Without waiting for a response, Everson pushed both drive levers forward. A squeal arose from the two Chaos-conduction chambers, the rear wheels began to spin, and the machine began to hop, stirring a cloud of dust. Suddenly, it blasted forward, pinning Everson to the panel behind him. At an alarming rate, the carriage sped down the road and raced past the three spectators. Everson’s eyes grew wide when the north wall, which had been a mile away when the ride began, drew close. He scrambled for the drive levers and pulled them back to neutral. His hands then gripped both brakes, but when he pulled, one lever stuck in place. With the right side braking and the other rolling freely, the carriage spun about and continued spinning.
Screams arose from all three passengers as the world twirled past them repeatedly and the wall drew closer and closer. They reached the bend in the road with only fifty feet of long grass between them and the wall. Everson held tight, fearing a massive collision. Still spinning, the wheels caught a rut and the carriage tipped sideways. Everson stumbled and fell to one mechanical knee. The carriage hung up, teetering while Everson’s breath caught in his throat. Creaking arose from the machine as it swayed back and forth, threatening to tip on its side…and then it dropped back on its wheels. The force of the fall sent Everson sprawling onto his back and his head smacked against the interior wall. He blinked at the pain in his head, his hand going to the sore spot as his breathing calmed.
Everson rolled to his stomach, climbed to his feet, and peeked out the window. The carriage had stopped a few strides short of the wall. A glance down the road revealed a cloud of settling dust, stirred from the gravel. He shifted, peeked into the cabin, and found his passengers holding each other, their eyes round with fear as they panted for air.
He gave them a weak grin. “See. I know what I’m doing.”
Cassie released Ivy and blurted at Everson, “You almost killed us!”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”
She stood and poked finger at him. “What if we had hit the wall? Going that fast, we would have been flattened!” Moving to the door, she gripped the handle and threw it open. “First, Curan almost crushes me with a practice dummy, and now you practically drive me into a wall at a ridiculous speed. What else can happen today?”
Cassie abruptly stopped in the doorway, her face relaxing as she stared into space. Everson turned toward Ivy, who shrugged. When his gaze returned to Cassie, he found her nodding to no one and surmised that Brandt was contacting her over their telepathic connection.
“It’s my brother.” Cassie turned toward Everson. “He’s with Quinn. They are meeting later tonight to send a full report. He says it’s important.”
The corridor was eerily silent, but it was late and that was to be expected. Everson glanced back at Cassie before knocking, the rap of his knuckles on the door echoing down the hallway. The tap of approaching footsteps came from beyond the door. It opened to reveal Master Hedgewick, who gave them an affable smile. The man pushed his rectangular spectacles up and moved aside to allow them to enter.
A glowlamp on the wall, another on the desk, and a third at the center of a long table provided the only light. At one end of the briefing room, the desk stood empty save for the lamp and some notes. The table at the other side of the room was another story.
Every ICON leader was present. Nindlerod sat on one side of the table, the old man nodding with a grin when Everson faced him. Beside the engineering master was Firellus, who, like Nindlerod, rested his cane across his lap. Firellus stared back with his beady dark eyes, a gaze that tended to make Everson squirm. Headmaster Ackerson was there, seated between Firellus and Master Alridge, the academy’s expert on arcane arts. Captain Goren had even come from the Torreco Academy of Combat Training to join the meeting. Seated beside Goren was Kwai-Lan, the Ward’s combat master.
Last was Delvin Garber with his arms behind his head, leaning back in his chair. As usual, his expression featured the hint of a satisfied smirk – as if he knew secrets unknown to others. Perhaps he does. While Everson was unsure if Delvin had a title, he certainly held importance inside ICON. Delvin was Quinn’s mentor, as he was for the other espions. He also spent more time away from the Ward than in it, but nobody ever seemed to know where the man was when away.
Hedgewick gestured toward the table as he took a seat. “Come. Sit. We have been waiting for you.”
With only two empty chairs remaining, both at the near end of the table, Cassie claimed one and Everson the other. With all eyes turned toward him, Everson fidgeted, his gaze flicking from one face to another. His armpits grew damp, his stomach sour. He glanced toward Cassie and willed her to say something…anything. Thank Issal, she did.
“I informed my brother that we are ready. He and Quinn are together, alone…” she frowned. “They are in Sol Polis, at the citadel. In an abandoned tower. He says it’s a safe place for them to talk.”
Hearing this news struck a chord inside Everson, his concern for Quinn drowning his insecurity. “Empire headquarters?” he blurted. “How is that safe?”
“Hush, Everson,” Firellus said. “It is time to listen. We need information.”
With a nod and a deep exhale, Everson fell quiet.
“Brandt is relaying Quinn’s story.” Cassie said as she closed her eyes. “After arriving in Sol Polis, she joined the castle staff as a handmaid for a magistrate. She was able to…manipulate the situation and soon became the handmaid for Archon Varius. In that position, she discovered that the Empire is developing weapons using something called flash powder, among which are the flash cannons that fired at Admiral Tenzi’s ship.”
The leaders seated at the table nodded at this information.
“That makes sense,” Delvin said.
Hedgewick leaned closer. “Who is behind this? Certainly, it requires a scholar to refine something so dangerous into a weapon.”
Cassie opened her eyes and looked around the table. “Does the name Jarlish mean anything?”
Hedgewick gasped. “Karl Jarlish?”
The man’s face twisted to a grimace, and he pounded his fist against the table. The suddenness of Hedgewick’s reaction – so out of character – startled Everson. Judging by the way Cassie jumped in her seat, it startled her as well.
“That filthy scum,” Hedgewick grit his teeth as he spoke. “How could he take my discoveries…my creations…and turn them against us?”
Nindlerod leaned forward and put his hand over Hedgewick’s fist. “Easy, Benny. Let us hear them out and follow logic to our next step. Getting carried away with emotion will only lead to bad decisions.”
Hedgewick’s shoulders slumped as the anger bled from him. He nodded to the old engineering instructor. “Of course, Pherran.” He turned toward Cassie. “I apologize for the outburst. Please. Continue.”
Cassie closed her eyes, and the room fell silent. A moment later, she continued her tale.
“This Jarlish was later tasked by Varius with developing smaller weapons – something a soldier co
uld carry into battle. Quinn fears what it might mean if we engage in war with the Empire.
“Quinn’s role as Varius’ handmaid was going well until…” Cassie’s eyes opened in a start. “Wyck showed up.”
Delvin sat forward, his eyes narrowed. “Wyck? He’s no espion.” He glared at Firellus. “Why was that knucklehead there?”
Firellus shook his head. “I don’t know. I sent Wyck to Cinti Mor under the guise of a simple soldier. I used connections to get him a position as a guard at the citadel. My directions were simple – guard Prelate Dorlan and to listen for information coming from Sol Polis.”
With her eyes again closed, Cassie continued. “Apparently, an act of heroism while at Cinti Mor earned Wyck a promotion to Sol Polis. While there…he attacked Archon Varius in her personal chambers. When Quinn tried to talk him out of it, he attacked her, instead. They fought, and…Wyck died.”
Goren slapped the table, causing Everson to jump in his seat again.
“Why would she protect an enemy leader?” The military captain demanded. “Worse, how could she justify killing a fellow soldier? A fellow warden?”
Cassie grimaced. “You people keep interrupting me. Do you want to hear the report or not?”
The scowl remained on Goren’s face, but he sat back in his chair and crossed his thick arms. Yet, he remained quiet.
“The day before Wyck attacked Varius, Quinn overheard the Archon arguing with General Kardan. The general wanted to attack Kantaria and push their forces north to capture Fallbrandt before winter. Varius was against it and urged him to wait. She was the one person stopping the council, and the general, from going to war against the west. Quinn feared what would happen if Wyck killed her.
“Brandt arrived in Sol Polis the day after Wyck died. He also is at the citadel, working undercover. When Quinn discovered…” Cassie gasped. “King Dalwin is alive!”
“Pretencia?” Nindlerod exclaimed.
“How? Where is he?” Hedgewick demanded.
“Quinn discovered the king locked in a dungeon cell. She and Brandt freed the king and sent him off to Wayport on Admiral Tenzi’s ship. He should arrive there in a day or two.”
Hedgewick glanced around the table. “Well, that is…”
“Wait!” Cassie interjected, “There is more.”
Everyone turned toward her and listened.
“The failed assassination had unexpected results. After Quinn killed Wyck and saved the Archon’s life, Varius made Quinn…her personal guard. The new position offers Quinn better access to information than when she was a handmaid.” Cassie’s eyes flashed open. “Oh, my.”
“What?” Everson asked, unable to restrain himself. “What is it?”
When Cassie’s gaze met Everson’s, he saw the concern in her eyes. “The attempt on the Archon’s life also altered her stance. The Empire is now preparing for war. Quinn doesn’t know where or when, but they will strike…and it will happen soon.”
4
The First Tile
The tower was dark, the room dimly lit by a small chunk of glowstone. Broken furniture and debris from the collapsed ceiling covered the floor. Three stories above the Sol Polis citadel grounds, the room was high enough to be buffeted by the steady sea breeze – a wind that whistled through broken windows. The sound was eerie, a plaintiff wail, as if the tower mourned for its old self – tall, majestic, and full of life. Despite the risk of injury from the building collapsing upon them, Quinn and Brandt chose the tower as it was among the few places in the citadel where they could meet in secret.
Seated on a fallen block of stone, Quinn told her story while Brandt relayed it to his sister and ICON’s leaders, hundreds of miles away. During the exchange, Brandt leaned against a broken tabletop – a dust-covered relic lying at an odd angle atop a pile of rubble. With her tale recited, Quinn fell silent and waited for Brandt to finish the conversation with his sister. His ability to communicate with Cassie still amazed Quinn and left her wondering what it would be like to have such a skill. How do you turn it on and off? Is the other person always listening? Can they overhear your thoughts? She gasped. Does Cassie always know what Brandt is doing? What he is feeling? The thought left Quinn blushing. She considered asking him but feared the response. The truth might be worse than not knowing. However…
Brandt’s eyes opened to reveal a sparkling intensity despite the dim lighting. Quinn set her curiosity aside and focused on the mission.
“Did Cassie have anything to say in return?”
“Nothing we couldn’t have determined ourselves,” he shrugged. “Delvin said we are to remain in position and gather more information. They want us to discover more about the Empire’s plans. With war coming soon, the kingdoms must prepare. They plan to notify the western rulers so nobody is caught off guard.”
Quinn sighed. “I expected as much. While I can make no promises, I will do my best.”
He stood and moved closer, resting his hands on her shoulders.
“Just remember, I am here and will help in any way I can.”
She gave him a small smile. “I know. I wish it were that easy...”
When Quinn rose to her feet, he slipped in closer, his hands shifting to the small of her back. She put her hands against his chest, intending to push him away, but her desire overcame her resistance. Their lips met, and Quinn felt Brandt’s heart beating in time with hers, thumping loud enough to drown out the whistling wind. After swimming for some unknown time in the rush of their connection, she opened her eyes and resurfaced. Her lips fell away, and she gently pushed him back.
“We must go.” Quinn turned toward the door. “Varius is meeting with Kardan and the Council tomorrow morning. She expects me to guard the door. As it is, I’ll have little more than six hours sleep.”
“Sleep is a good idea. I must wake even before you, before sunrise.” Brandt frowned. “Life as a steward is even more boring than I had feared.”
A smirk tugged on Quinn’s lips. “Is the little prince unhappy with his new role?”
“Ugh.” He wore a pained expression. “Not you, too. I’m not that bad, am I?”
“At complaining? Actually, you have proven quite deft at it. If you continue, you may surpass Jonah one day.”
He glared at her. “Are you messing with me?”
She patted his cheek. “Of course I am.”
Turning toward the door, Quinn eased it open. A deep groan from years of neglect came from the hinges, the noise growing louder the wider she opened it.
“Remember the loose stairs,” she whispered as she began her descent down the spiral staircase.
Quinn paced before the door to the council chambers. Tarvick and Berd stood guard outside the door, neither moving. They hardly even blinked. When Quinn stopped before them, the guards stared into space, refusing eye contact. Quinn’s mouth turned in a frown. She had tried to mend the bridge between her and the guards, but they wouldn’t have it. She even considered approaching Sculdin about it until she realized he was likely the source of the distaste they displayed toward her. After all, she had killed their new star soldier. Never mind that the man had tried to assassinate their Archon.
Beyond the door, Varius, Kardan, and the eight council members were discussing war. Quinn ached to be in the room with them, to know what they planned. Since nobody, not even Kardan, was allowed to enter the room armed, Varius perceived herself safe and had assigned Quinn to wait in the main hall. Outside of poisoning, Varius had little to fear from the council members, not with Kardan beside her.
Redirecting her attention toward the floor, Quinn resumed pacing. By the time she spun on her heel a second time, the door opened and council members emerged. The men – ranging from their early fifties to seventy years of age – walked past as if Quinn didn’t exist. A few spoke to each other in hushed tones. The others remained silent, making no sound other than the swishing of their white cloaks, trimmed in blue, and their retreating footsteps on the tiled floor.
A moment
later, the door opened again. Kardan moved to the side and held it while Varius walked past him. The Archon’s white, floor-length dress and golden cloak were a stark contrast to the general’s dark blue uniform, also trimmed in gold. Kardan was tall and imposing with broad shoulders, standing a full head taller than Varius. Quinn wondered why the woman even bothered with another guard when Kardan was beside her.
“Come along,” Varius said as she passed Quinn and headed toward the stairwell.
With Kardan in the lead and Quinn in the rear, the trio climbed to the fifth story and stopped outside Kardan’s office. Opening the door, he stood aside and waited for Quinn to enter.
The curtains along the far wall were drawn and sunlight streamed through the window, providing ample light to the familiar room. A quick survey revealed chairs beside a table with maps laid out on it, shelves along one wall filled with books and charts, and Kardan’s desk, the papers upon it aligned and orderly.
“The room is clear,” Quinn said, turning toward the door.
Varius entered with Kardan trailing and closing the door behind him.
“Today’s meeting went better than expected,” Kardan said as he walked toward his desk.
“Yes. The Council members are odd,” Varius agreed. “They balk or bicker over the most mundane, inconsequential subject, and then they surprise you by aligning decisively on a major initiative with thousands of lives in the balance.”
Kardan circled behind his desk and took a seat. “While I require time to prepare our resources, at least we have a plan in place. It’s now up to my team to execute it.”
“A few variables remain in play, Leo.” The Archon pulled a chair from beside the table, turned it toward his desk, and sat with her hands resting on her knees.
“Your son.”
“Yes. He should return soon. The news he carries might dictate our next move.” She crossed her legs, her fingers tapping the chair arm while she stared toward the window.
An Imperial Gambit (Wardens of Issalia Book 3) Page 4
