Shock of Fate: A Young Adult Fantasy Adventure (Anchoress Series Book 1)

by D. L. Armillei

  “What’s going on?” Paley asked, tucking in her tank top.

  A body tumbled out of the Grotto’s door, and Paley’s “friend” realized a brawl had started inside. Without a word, he dashed in to join the bedlam.

  Paley pouted, devastated to see him go.

  “This town probably hasn’t seen this much excitement since the Dark War,” Jorie said, still grinning.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Day 7: 12:18 a.m., Living World

  As the group headed back to Ox’s Bunkhouse, the sky opened and torrential rain pelted them all the way.

  Once Van reached her room, she shook off her rain-soaked jacket, then lay on top of her lumpy, mildew-smelling bed. Her body was dead tired, but her mind was restless. Reading before bed always helped calm her so she could fall asleep. She grabbed the translation manual and huddled with Manik’s text. By candlelight, she translated a page Brux hadn’t yet read.

  Amaryl’s story bothered her, especially the part where Amaryl had let her people down when they needed her most. What had made Amaryl so pathetic—so stupid—that she handed over control of the Coin to Goustav, a man who ended up murdering her? Did this have something to do with Manik’s warning for the Anchoress not to surrender her Light, meaning the Coin?

  Len said Goustav didn’t use the Coin to defeat the demons. Meaning what? He used something else? Van turned to another page; she knew the book had the answers.

  Frustrated with the difficulty of translating the Language, she blamed Brux. How could he read the words so easily? The image of Brux with that girl on his lap kept intruding in her thoughts, which irked Van. She didn’t want to care about that.

  Brux is a jerk. He’s wrong about my father. Van reached into her pocket, took out the tissue, and carefully unwrapped it. Now that Brux had said her father might be dead, she thought about touching the patch . . . and using her ability to get a reading. She had gotten a vision earlier, while she was hidden in the bushes outside Mt. Hope Manor, when her hand came close to the patch. Emotionally charged objects carried an imprint, allowing her mind to see related scenes of the owner’s life, as if she were there. It didn’t always happen . . . and she couldn’t get a reading when she had touched Manik’s text . . . but if it did work this time . . . she might learn the truth about what happened with her father, at least on the night of the demon attack. Van stared at the patch.

  She crumpled up the tissue, tucked the patch into the binding of the text, and concentrated on translating the words onto scraps of parchment she had found in her room. The process was excruciating. She considered going into Brux’s room and throwing the text at his head. But the longer she worked, the easier the translations became.

  She shot upright, her nose buried in the text. Len was right. Goustav hadn’t used the Coin to defeat the demons. He’d used the Anchoress! Amaryl had single-handedly defeated the demons! Goustav had done nothing. After reading the text, Van concluded that Goustav had gotten all of the glory, while Amaryl got murdered. This was another reason why the Balish had concealed Manik’s text.

  Fascinated, Van continued reading. The book mentioned nothing about an affair. Amaryl would never have been attracted to a loser like Goustav. Ugh—the Elementals had told Amaryl how to access the power of the Coin, but the “how to” part was burned out. Van turned to the next page and translated another passage. She peered at the text, checking her translation for accuracy. Manik claimed the Coin would identify the heir—because only the heir could retrieve it from its hiding place!

  She took a minute to digest this new bit of information.

  That meant only one heir existed, the Anchoress heir. If only the Anchoress heir could retrieve the Coin, then Van’s father couldn’t get it. Which was somewhat of a relief, until Van realized she and her team wouldn’t be able to get the Coin, either. Not without Daisy.

  Van was willing to bet Daisy, like Amaryl, would have no idea how to access the magical power of the Coin. Which was just as well, because she couldn’t use the Coin’s powers to protect herself from the Balish, Solana, or any person—that would be an incorrect use, and she would suffer the consequences. This had to be where the Anchoress’s Assigned Protector would come into play. Had the Elementals chosen Marcus as Daisy’s Assigned Protector? Poor Daisy.

  Unless Len had spoken the truth, about Van being the heir. Van couldn’t deny her uncanny resemblance to Queen Amaryl. Her eyes did flash phosphorescent violet, and sometimes she could read the Language of the Ancients without using the translation manual. But Van had to recharge in the Living World, so she couldn’t be the heir.

  Could she?

  Van fidgeted. Did Uxa know that only the Anchoress-in-Waiting could retrieve the Coin? If so, why send two teams? If Daisy were the Anchoress-in-Waiting, what did that make Van’s team? Did Van act as a decoy for Daisy? Was that Van’s contribution to the mission?

  Uxa and Manik claimed the Anchoress bloodline had survived the Dark War. Were they wrong? Was Trey right about there being no Anchoress heir? Van had overheard Uxa tell Fynn that she felt unsure whether the Anchoress-in-Waiting had inherited the magical abilities of her ancestral bloodline. The heir could exist but might not have access to her magical powers. That would support the claims made by Uxa, Manik, and Trey.

  Van jumped up from her bed. She stormed outside, sloshed through the mud, and burst into the room at the end of the bunkhouse. “What are you hiding from me?”

  Brux leaped from his bed, dagger in hand, ready for battle. “Van!” he said angrily, lowering his weapon.

  “Are you and Uxa in cahoots together—conspiring against the rest of us?” Van asked in a low voice, hoping not to disturb Elmot, asleep in the next room. “What is it that bothered you when you read Manik’s text? Tell me!”

  “I will, if you’ll be quiet for a second and let me talk,” Brux said, forcefully whispering. He lit a candle, and the room flooded with light.

  “Up to this point, I thought our only problem was finding the Coin,” Van said, struggling to keep her voice low. “I knew we had Manik’s text, which has the map, and team Echo has Daisy, the Anchoress, who can find the Coin using her intuition. No problem, right? Now I read in Manik’s text that finding the Coin is just one problem—the bigger problem being that the only person who can actually retrieve the Coin out of its hiding place is the Anchoress heir! Doesn’t matter if the Anchoress can connect to her powers or not. As long as she exists, she can get the Coin, is that it? Doesn’t matter if she dies in the process from being weak and unskilled. I think it’s a little bit sick as to why you’d let your sister go on this mission, then. With Daisy being the Anchoress heir, what does that make our team? Why did Uxa send us out? And why is my father going for the Coin if he can’t get it? Why did—”

  Brux raised his hand. “Enough. Van. Just stop talking for a second,” he pleaded. “I did read that only the Anchoress-in-Waiting is able to retrieve the Coin.” His voice turned sharp. “I’m not sure how much Uxa knows—or you. But then I read more. Manik confirmed what Trey and Elmot found in the library at Agerorsa. Goustav had an heir. His current-day heirs can also retrieve the Coin. I think each team has an heir.”

  “I didn’t read anything about that,” Van said. “Brux, if Goustav had an heir, then Manik’s text should say heirs, with an s. What I translated is singular, meaning one heir—the Anchoress heir.”

  “I translated the word in Manik’s text to be plural—the heirs can retrieve the Coin. There are at least two heirs! I’m the expert, not you! You’re just a spoiled brat, along for the ride! You know nothing!”

  “The ancient Moors wouldn’t have let a secret heir of Goustav’s live—someone who could establish his right to the Balish throne. Mehal, Manik’s son, would’ve seen to it that any and all of Goustav’s heirs were killed! You’re the dumb—” Van froze. Her father had Balish blood.

  Brux saw the terror in Van’s face. His anger melted. “Your father’s not Goustav’s heir, Van. When he married your mother, a
n extensive background check was done. Which means it’s not you, either. It’s one of our teammates. It must be.”

  “Do Daisy’s eyes flash phosphorescent violet like mine?” Van asked tremulously. She would rather be the Anchoress than Goustav’s heir. Both will be hunted by the Balish, but the Anchoress had access to magical power, giving her a fighting chance to survive a Balish ambush.

  She took his lack of response as a “no.”

  “It’s got to be Trey. He’s a Bale,” Brux said softly, still convinced his sister was the Anchoress. “Solana must either think she is a descendent of Goustav or has found one to work with your father.”

  “No wonder so many people died trying to get the Coin,” Van said, accepting Brux’s expertise on the subject. “I bet none of them knew only the Anchoress-in-Waiting or one of Goustav’s heirs could retrieve it.”

  “And none had an heir with them,” Brux said in agreement. “It would explain why Solana and her mother petitioned to have Manik’s text destroyed. They didn’t want to give anti‑Manikists any more fuel to feed the rumors of Goustav having an heir, which is a serious threat to their throne.”

  Van wondered if this was what Len meant when he said Manik’s text gave the Lodians power. But she decided it wasn’t, because the heir would take the power, not the Lodians, and on discovering his or her lineage, Goustav’s heir would most likely align with the Balish.

  “Is that the part of Manik’s text that bothered you?” Van asked.

  Brux cast his eyes downward. “No,” he answered. “It was the part about Amaryl. Goustav used Amaryl to defeat the demons.”

  Van remained composed. “Goustav was a loser, so what’s new?”

  “Van, don’t you realize?” Brux seemed agitated. “The Coin doesn’t have the power. The Anchoress does. The Coin multiplies her power, turns her into a magical super-warrior.”

  Van had trouble visualizing Daisy as a super-warrior and understood Brux’s concern.

  “The Anchoress has magical power times three,” Brux said. “She can connect to the moon, the Elemental part of her blood, and the power of the Coin.”

  “Daisy will be fine,” Van said soothingly.

  She felt close to Brux in that moment, the heat of his body, his musky sandalwood scent. Impulsively, she slid her hands up his chest and lifted her chin, drawing her lips toward his.

  Brux wrapped his fingers around her hands and gently pushed her away.

  Van stepped back, shocked and insulted.

  “I don’t want to be another one in your collection,” Brux said in a strained voice. His eyes clouded with pain.

  Van didn’t care about his pain. She stormed back to her room and crashed onto her wretched bed. “Screw them all. I’m done with this mission. Done!” If Brux wasn’t interested in her, then he should’ve said so. He didn’t have to use Ken and the stable boy against her.

  I’m overtired, Van thought. That’s what triggered my temporary insanity to make a pass at Brux. What was I thinking? Her body felt heavy and achy. She needed rest right now. Then, tomorrow, she would grab Paley and head home. Mission be damned.

  Before Van drifted off, she felt little paws padding on her abdomen.

  “Mllwrp!” Wiglaf blinked his large blue eyes at Van and rumbled like a tiny motor.

  “Hey, there!” Van smiled. Jorie had said he would return when Van needed him most. “Don’t try and talk me into staying.” She reached down and scratched behind his ears. “Why are guys so difficult? Huh?”

  Wiglaf responded with a rambunctious purr.

  Van continued scratching Wiglaf and gazed into his eyes.

  She resolved that there was no escaping Brux, her father, or the mission. She would face all of it with courage, including Brux’s rejection. She sighed.

  The only way out was through.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Day 7: 4:17 p.m., Living World

  The team endured another all-day trek over rocky, uphill terrain. The sky mocked them with its bright, cheery blueness, while the air grew blisteringly cold.

  Van’s aching feet howled in reluctance with each step. Wiglaf had left sometime during the night. Van reconciled herself to the bunfy’s departure by looking at it from his point of view. She figured he had done his job by boosting her resolve to keep on with the mission and was therefore no longer needed. Still, she missed the funny little thing.

  By the time the Kezef-Fomalhaut border appeared on the horizon, it was late afternoon. Van’s legs and lower back throbbed.

  “Araquiel is just beyond here,” Elmot said.

  As they got closer to the checkpoint, they saw a crowd of people making their way across the border. Balish border guards had amassed in force.

  Van’s knees jittered. “There’s so many guards.”

  “We could go back to Dricreek,” offered Paley. She’d been suggesting this ever since she’d met that boy at the Grotto.

  “Will they search us?” Van asked nervously.

  Brux moved protectively closer.

  Van glared at him and stomped toward the checkpoint. Anger over his rejection burned away any fear of being searched.

  “What difference does it make if they search us?” Trey asked. “Our covers are sound.”

  “He’s right,” Jorie whispered, as they approached the checkpoint. “We’ll be fine. Just stay calm. Stick to the cover story.”

  Brux glanced from the adjacent line, as Van handed the guard her papers.

  She flipped her hair and flashed her best smile at the guard. “So, you been doing this long?” Van asked. She didn’t listen to his answer; her only motive was for Brux to see the guard thriving on her attention.

  His commander urged, “Move the line!”

  They had all crossed the checkpoint without incident, except Paley. With her, there was some kind of holdup.

  “She’s mouthing off to the guard.” Jorie’s shoulders tensed. “It’ll trigger a search.”

  More guards rushed over and blocked Paley from view.

  Van’s gut clenched when one of the guards raised his hand high, grasping Paley’s Twin Gemstone.

  “What the—?” Jorie said, seething as border guards surrounded them.

  “Search them,” growled the commander.

  Two border guards each grabbed one of Van’s arms.

  Another patted her down. “Hah ha!” he said excitedly, holding up Van’s Twin Gemstone. He continued searching her pockets and found the translation manual, then her mother’s earrings.

  “Gimme those!” Van said, wriggling to break loose from the guards.

  The guard who’d confiscated her items turned his attention to her. He smashed Van’s face with the back of his hand.

  The two guards holding Van relaxed their grip, and the force of the blow sent Van crashing to the ground. She felt too startled and numb to determine whether the guard had broken her jaw.

  Brux struggled free and rushed to Van.

  Nearby guards whipped out their batons. The closest one to Brux whacked his legs.

  Brux wailed and crumpled to the ground not far from Van.

  The guards hammered him with their batons.

  She screamed, along with Elmot and Paley.

  Jorie and Trey struggled against their guards but not enough to get beaten, too.

  The guards dragged all of them into the stark compound and threw them into separate rooms for interrogation.

  A burly guard pushed Van into a wooden chair in a stuffy room with sickly white walls and no windows. Van’s chest tightened.

  One guard hung behind her, as if he were the sword of Damocles. Another threw Van’s backpack onto the table, along with her mother’s earrings, her Twin Gemstone, and the translation manual.

  The commander reclined in a comfortable-looking chair, directly across from Van. “So . . . ” He tapped her border pass on the table. “Marketier’s scout, eh.” His face resembled a bullfrog. “We’ll see about that.” He raised his chin, and the guard next to him unzipped Van�
�s backpack and spilled its contents onto the table.

  Van shifted in her chair. The guard behind her pinned his beefy hand on her shoulder, as if she were a flight risk.

  Van watched as the bullfrog rifled through her things. She didn’t care when he slipped her coin pouch into his pocket; she was more preoccupied with getting her mother’s earrings back. It didn’t take him long to find Manik’s text.

  “Well, what do we have here?” Bullfrog said. The other two guards craned to get a better view of the item that would condemn their prisoner.

  “Do you have the proper permits to be carrying books?”

  Van glared at the repulsive bullfrog-like man, the one who’d allowed Brux to be beaten. She curled her lip, nearly snarling. She wanted to tell this scumbag where to shove his permits. Instead, she forced her throbbing jaw to move, causing pain to shoot through her head, and said, “I came across them at an abandoned campfire. Seemed like they might be valuable, at least worth a meal or two.”

  “Humph. Likely story.” Bullfrog held the charred text, carefully inspecting it, then threw the text onto the table as if it were contaminated. “Get the box!” he hollered.

  Van kept cool, but inside her anxiety raged. What was “the box?” Were they going to stuff her in it? She hated enclosed spaces. Her shoulder trembled under the guard’s hulking hand, as the other man disappeared for the longest minutes of Van’s life.

  The guard returned holding a polished wooden box, small enough to hold cigars. She stared, wide-eyed, thinking she’d never fit in there. Unless they burned her to ashes first! The room grew fuzzy, the walls closed in, making it a chore to breathe.

  The guard opened the lid. Bullfrog cast Manik’s text into the box, then snapped it shut.

  “I know better than to try and read the Language of the Ancients,” Bullfrog said.

  Van exhaled, her shoulders relaxed. Bullfrog noticed only the ancient writing. He wasn’t sure whether the book was Manik’s text. He was too afraid to read it, she thought, for fear of his eyes burning out! Van felt so relieved, she nearly giggled.