A Warden's Purpose (Wardens of Issalia Book 1)

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

  Quinn frowned, knowing that was true. “Why did you do it?”

  “It’s…complicated.” He shrugged. “Besides, I thought you’d be happy to see Darnya dead.”

  “While Darnya and I had our issues, I never wanted her dead.”

  “Well, be that as it may, it was necessary.” Percy shook his head. “It would have been too obvious if I had only killed Simone.”

  Quinn’s eyes narrowed as he considered his words. She heard footsteps and turned to the side to find Iko and Chuli approaching. His arm was about her neck, his knife pressed against it.

  “Drop the bow, Quinn,” Iko called out.

  “Iko? What are you doing?”

  He continued forward, Chuli with him, his amber eyes intense – glaring. “You should have let it go, Quinn.”

  Quinn frowned, her focus shifting to Chuli and found her eye blackened, her cheek bleeding. “Are you all right?”

  “I am well.” Chuli grimaced. “When we saw you with your bow aimed at Percy, he hit me. I…was not ready for it.”

  “Quinn.” Her attention shifted to Iko as he spoke. “Drop the bow. Don’t make me kill your friend.”

  She stared into his eyes and found nothing of the usual warmth, no hint of emotion at all. If she shot Percy, Iko would kill Chuli. An attempt to turn her bow on Iko would allow Percy to shoot her.

  With a sigh, Quinn lowered the bow and tossed it to the leaf-covered forest floor.

  “Should I kill her?”

  Quinn turned toward Percy and found his bow raised, arrow nocked and aimed toward her. When she looked back toward Iko, her eyes met his in a long and silent moment. He’s actually considering it, she thought. It was a thought that hurt badly. She had given a piece of her heart away, a part that he had nurtured and cared for…only to now crush with a single look.

  Finally, he shook his head. “No. Their deaths would serve no purpose. We cannot go back without them. It would raise too many questions.”

  He grimaced and pushed Chuli forward, the girl stumbling but managing to maintain her balance.

  As Chuli moved beside Quinn, Percy shuffled toward Iko, keeping his nocked arrow pointed at the girls the entire time.

  “You could join me, Quinn,” Iko offered.

  She frowned. “Why did you kill them?”

  He shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand. There’s more at stake here than the lives of two girls. The world is changing, Quinn. A new power rises, one that will make things right again.”

  Quinn glanced at Chuli and found confusion in her eyes, the same confusion Quinn felt inside. She turned back toward Iko. “Any cause that forces you to murder innocents cannot be worthy.”

  Iko smiled, an expression that contained no hint of joy. “Your innocence is among your more endearing qualities, Quinn. However, naiveté can be dangerous…it may even kill you one day.”

  She frowned. “I’ll not be part of whatever conquest you support…not for the price you would have me pay.”

  He grimaced. “That’s too bad, Quinn. We could have been something special.” He stepped closer. “Toss me your pack and quiver. Yours too, Chuli.”

  The girls swung their packs and quivers off their shoulders before throwing them toward Iko. Quinn’s fell short – very much on purpose. When he bent to pick it up, she lunged forward and kicked him in the face, her toe connecting with his nose with satisfying force. He fell onto his rear with a cry of pain.

  “Argh!”

  His hand went to his nose and came away bloody. Percy drew his bowstring back but Iko called out.

  “Don’t!” He rose to his feet with both packs and quivers gripped in one hand. A wipe of his wrist across his bent and bloody nose left crimson streaks on his sleeve. “Why challenge me, Quinn? You know I would beat you. I proved that in the Coliseum.”

  “This isn’t the Coliseum. Drop the bags and have Percy lower his bow. I’ll show you a beating.”

  Iko glared at her as blood dripped from his nose. “Maybe next time.”

  “I look forward to it,” Quinn replied with steel in her voice.

  His eyes narrowed, glaring at Quinn as he began to back away. “Leave them be, Percy. We have their food and water. They’ll have a long, thirsty hike back, and then they can go on with their lives.”

  Iko circled around Percy, who still had his bow aimed at the girls. He then turned to look back, his eyes locking with Quinn’s. “Have a good life. Don’t try to follow us, or we’ll be forced to kill you.”

  With that, he took off at a run, heading east. Percy lowered his bow, spun about, and scampered after Iko. As their brown coats faded into the forest, Quinn felt a single tear run down her cheek – a tear of betrayal.

  Quinn stopped reciting her tale as she felt the knot loosen. A sigh of relief slipped out as she pulled her hand free. However, she kept it behind her back and squinted into the light, toward her inquisitor.

  “I’m thirsty. Can I have a drink of water?”

  The man who had been questioning her replied, “Give the girl some water.”

  She heard shuffling from behind her and felt someone leaning over her shoulder. Turning her head to the side, Quinn saw a woman’s hip behind her, a knife strapped to her thigh. From her other side, a woman’s hand appeared, gripping a cup that she raised to Quinn’s lips. The water was welcome because she was truly thirsty. As she finished drinking and the cup lowered, Quinn’s hand darted out, grabbed the knife hilt, pulled it free, and sliced through the rope strapped around the chair and her chest. At the same time, she had a grip of the woman’s wrist. The cup fell as Quinn stood, the metal clanging when it hit the floor. A forward lunge lifted the woman’s body over Quinn’s back, flipping her to slam hard on the floor, right into the glowing rock.

  Shouts and cries of surprise rang through the room.

  Quinn spun around and picked up the chair with her free hand, swinging it like a weapon as she smashed it into one of the other two captors who had been standing behind her. The man fell to the floor as the chair shattered, leaving a broken leg in one of Quinn’s hands, the knife in the other. She thrust the chair leg into the stomach of the other man. When he bent with the blow, she cracked him over the head with the knife hilt, driving him to the floor.

  With the three captors behind her down, she spun toward her questioner. The shroud had fallen, and she now saw him as a man in his late twenties, with an average height and athletic build. He drew the sword at his hip as a guard standing behind him did the same.

  “Bravo, Quinn. I commend you. If your responses hadn’t made our decision clear, your ability to free yourself and take out three guards would have done it for sure.” He waved his sword toward her. “Now, drop the weapons. We won’t harm you.”

  “Where’s my brother?”

  “He’s in the room next door. Just put down the weapons and we’ll take you to him.”

  She frowned as she considered his statement. “Why should I believe you?”

  The man sighed and sheathed his sword before holding his hands up. “You gave us the answers we were seeking. We never meant you harm. We merely sought the truth, and in seeking it, we determined that you possess something else we seek.” He pointed toward the floor. Quinn’s gaze followed and settled on the rune still marked on the stone. “Remember the Truth rune? You would know if I were lying.”

  Quinn stared and knew he was correct.

  Another person materialized from the shadowy corner, a boy Quinn recognized the moment his face appeared in the light.

  “Torney?”

  Torney nodded. “Do as he says, Quinn. Everything will be all right.”

  With narrowed eyes, Quinn considered her options, not wishing to give in. Everyone fell still for a long moment before she relented.

  “Fine,” she sighed before dropping the chair leg, the wood bouncing and rolling noisily on the hard floor. With a flip of her other hand, Quinn drove the knife into the seat of the broken chair. The three captors she had attacked groaned and be
gan to rise to their feet.

  The man who had addressed her stepped forward and held his hand out. “Hello, Quinn. My name is Delvin. Welcome to the team.”

  40

  A Bit of Light

  Everson paused to gather himself. The wounds inside him remained fresh, no scabs yet covering them. Less than a day had passed since he had discovered the truth about his roommate – now knowing that Jonah merely considered him a pawn, not a friend.

  He blinked and took a breath as he fought to retain his composure. With himself collected, he resumed his tale.

  “When I arrived at Ackerson’s office, I found the man working despite the late hour. I knocked and he let me in. After taking a seat before his desk, I handed him the notes I had discovered beneath Jonah’s mattress. His face was grim when he read them. He thanked me for coming to him and promised to handle the issue as he walked me to the door. I returned to my room and went to bed. The next thing I knew, you people grabbed me and put a bag over my head.”

  The room fell silent. Everson realized that the bright light had dimmed, the energy of the augmentation waning. Knowing that runes began losing their effectiveness after an hour informed him of how long he had been telling his story.

  “See! I told you!” A voice Everson recognized said the words, bringing a frown to his face. “It wasn’t my fault.”

  “Yes, Jonah,” the questioner replied. “We see the truth of it now.”

  “Jonah?” Everson asked.

  “Sorry, Ev. I couldn’t tell you,” Jonah’s voice came from a dark corner of the room.

  A door opened behind the man seated before Everson, the light beyond exposing a better view of the room. A figure eclipsed the doorway, one he knew well.

  “Everson!” Quinn exclaimed as she rushed into the room.

  “Quinn? Are you well?”

  She knelt before him, wearing naught but her cream-colored shift. “Don’t worry about me. Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’m fine. Just cold.”

  Standing, she turned toward the others in the room and kicked the shroud behind the glowing rock. Immediately, faces coalesced into view.

  The man in black, Master Firellus, was the man who had been questioning Everson. Behind the man were Jonah, Master Hedgewick, and Master Nindlerod. Another man stepped through the doorway, young and athletic with dark hair, a thin goatee, and intense eyes – a man Everson had never seen before.

  “Now that you cowards cannot hide in the shadows, I suggest you apologize to my brother,” Quinn demanded with steel in her voice. “And for Issal’s sake, get him a blanket. It’s cold in here, and he has only his smallclothes.”

  Master Firellus frowned at the other two masters as Nindlerod broke into cackling laughter. The man in the doorway crossed his arms and leaned against the frame with a smile.

  “She is certainly bold,” the man in the doorway said. “You should have heard her story.” He grinned. “I like her…a lot.”

  Master Firellus rose from his seat. “Untie the boy. Let’s get them both clothes and a meal.” He then spun about, limping toward the doorway as he leaned on his cane. “Jonah, can you two please explain things to them while they eat?’

  The man in the doorway moved aside as Firellus limped past him, followed by Masters Hedgewick and Nindlerod.

  Clothed and seated in a room across the hall from the cell where they had questioned him, Everson took a bite of warm bread and washed it down with a long drink of water. Quinn sat across from him, eating as eagerly as he was. The room was empty other than the table at which they sat, joined by four chairs, and some bookshelves along one wall. A glowlamp suspended over the table – hanging from a thick wooden beam that ran across the ceiling – lit the small room.

  The door opened, drawing his attention as Jonah entered with a bundle in his arms. Jonah shuffled forward and poured the cloth-wrapped load onto the table with a grunt. A sigh escaped his lips as he plopped down into an empty chair.

  “Whew.” Jonah wiped his brow. “Those are heavier than I expected.”

  Everson stared at the bundle of gray cloth, bulky and over three-feet long. “What is it?”

  “Rather than grabbing your canes and braces, I thought you might prefer your new invention.” Jonah glanced across the table. “I’m sure Quinn will be interested to see it.”

  Everson found himself grinning at the idea. He popped another chunk of bread into his mouth and reached toward the bundle. When he pulled the blanket aside, the metal of what lay beneath reflected the blue light of the glowlamp. With a grunt, he lifted one of the mechanical legs and lowered it to the floor, spinning in his seat to slip his leg into it.

  “What is that?” Quinn asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  The trousers they had given Everson were a bit bulky and required him to wrap them tight to his leg for a proper fit. He then began securing the metal bands that held the contraption to his leg and his foot.

  “I’m glad that’s over with,” Jonah said. “Hiding the truth from you was killing me. I…value your friendship, Everson. I hated having secrets divide us like that.”

  Everson turned the words over in his head as he finished securing the last clamp. Jonah’s secrets had caused him pain…along with the notes he had found under Jonah’s bed.

  “What really happened with Donnell?”

  Jonah nodded. “Yes. I suspected that would be among your first questions.” He sighed and his eyes glazed over as he recalled a memory. “As you know, I followed him up on the roof that day. Once on top, it took me some time to locate him. When I did, he had his ear against one of the upper windows that look down into the Hall of Truth. You might recall that some of the masters were meeting in that hall with the kings of Torinland and Kantaria, along with Queen of Ri Star and the Duchess of New Kardis.”

  Everson frowned, wondering why Donnell would do such a thing…beyond uncontrolled curiosity.

  “When Donnell heard me approach, he attacked me. We scuffled for a bit, and I realized just how strong he was…certainly stronger than me. He tried to push me off the front edge, but my training kicked in and I was able to use his momentum against him. When I peeked over the edge and saw how he had landed, I knew he was dead.

  “After climbing back down, I immediately went to his room and picked the lock. Inside, I found a series of missives he had prepared – the same notes you found under my mattress.”

  “Donnell?” Everson asked. “Those were written by Donnell?”

  Jonah put his hand on Everson’s shoulder. “I’m afraid so. He wasn’t who you thought he was.”

  Everson looked at Quinn and found her eyes narrowed as she focused on Jonah. He turned back toward his roommate. “I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll get to hear it all explained in detail. As soon as you two are ready, I’m to bring you upstairs and we’ll cover everything.”

  Reaching across the table, Everson grabbed the other mechanical leg.

  “Where are we, anyway?” Quinn asked.

  “You’re in the basement below the Arcane Ward. By the way, you’ll be glad to have those mechanical legs. This place has so many stairs.”

  41

  A Warden’s Purpose

  Everson followed Jonah down the corridor, each of his footsteps heavy despite the leather soles on the bottom of his feet. When they reached the stairs, Everson climbed them – two steps at a time – without effort. He glanced at Quinn and found her grinning.

  “Your new legs are wonderful, Ev.”

  He smiled. She knew how difficult stairs had been for him, having watched him methodically shuffle up stairs – one step at a time – his entire life.

  They turned the corner at the landing and continued upward to another corridor, lit by glowing beams overhead and glowing stones below. Jonah led them down the hallway, past numerous closed doors, and to a pair of double-doors at the end. They passed through the doorway into the largest indoor sp
ace Everson had ever seen. He gaped at the sight, as if the Foundry had grown four times the size and had spouted amazing new creations with it.

  The shape of the room was square, three-hundred feet in width and length. Three stories above, a grid of massive beams supported a ceiling held up by thick columns spaced at wide intervals. The columns glowed with the strength of a fully charged glowstone, as did the heavy beams overhead, bathing the space in blue light. A dozen forges spaced along one wall glowed orange and the clanging of hammers shaping metal filled the air.

  The trio walked past a flying machine in mid-construction. Stretched hides covered its metal frame and runes marked every piece. Everson spied Reduce Gravity runes on passive components and Power runes on the parts that moved. Two men were busy bolting flat blades on a spindle while a woman stared at a rune that glowed with a faint red light.

  “Is she…”

  Before Everson could even finish the question, Jonah replied with a nod. “Enchanting? Yes.”

  Everson turned toward the contraption with a look of wonder. “So…it’s real.”

  “Oh, it’s real. I’m sure you’ll think up some crazy ways to use it, too.”

  The workers paused and stared at Everson, one man nudging the other as he pointed toward Everson’s mechanical legs. Everson grinned with pride, an odd feeling compared to the shame he normally felt under such circumstances.

  They continued forward, passing a group of four workers – two male and two female – who were busily assembling a catapult with four launch arms. Everson frowned at the small size of the launch baskets.

  “Why four launch arms? And why are the baskets so small? They’ll never be able to launch a projectile heavy enough to do damage.”

  Jonah chuckled. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Just remember, we have access to magic here…for the siege engine and for its projectiles.”

  In the next work area, they passed a group assembling an oven like the one he and Jonah examined in the academy kitchen. On and on, they walked, passing other inventions and components that were being crafted, assembled…and enchanted. When they finally reached the far end, Everson’s head with spinning with ideas.