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

by D. L. Armillei

  “H-How?” Van asked, staring at Paley. “You don’t have a scratch on you. Weren’t you interrogated?”

  “I convinced Solana that her men lied and that they didn’t have the Anchoress heir. I told her I knew this because I am the Anchoress-in-Waiting,” Paley said proudly. “I said Uxa didn’t believe in Goustav’s heir, either, and that she had given me the text because I’m weak and unskilled. That wasn’t a stretch.” Paley smiled. “I told Solana that I would help her get the Coin if she promised not to kill us.”

  “It was enough to cast doubt, for the time being,” Jorie said dully, as she continued to pace.

  “I told her I needed the Gemstones for medicinal reasons,” Paley said. “They’ll help me stay strong for my journey to retrieve the Coin. She had no idea that I’m a terrigen.”

  “The Balish don’t know anything about transporting,” Trey said. “Solana’s never seen the Twin Gemstones before, so she wouldn’t know what they’re used for.” It was good news, but he seemed sullen. “I’m not surprised she fell for it.”

  “I’m not, either. She’s an idiot,” Van said, not sure what hurt more, her pounding forehead or her bruised jaw.

  “You don’t ever like anyone prettier or more popular than you,” Paley snapped.

  “She took my jewelry!” Van retorted.

  “That’s no surprise,” Paley said. “You snuck incriminating items into your backpack, even after Jorie told you not to.”

  “I don’t care what Solana told you, Paley—she’s going to kill us!” Van said in a raised voice. “Just like she killed that guy in Agerorsa. She’s evil!”

  It was odd that no one interrupted them. Their squabbling usually irritated someone to the point of breaking it up. The group’s glumness set off Van’s internal alarm.

  “What?” she asked, eyeing the others.

  Elmot raised despair-clouded eyes to Van, and she noticed his clothes no longer appeared immaculate. “Paley may have saved us momentarily, but Solana’s men didn’t lie about having the real Anchoress-in-Waiting.”

  Jorie stopped her frantic pacing and said, “Solana told Paley that Merloc caught another team of marketier’s scouts at the Tipereth-Alga border.” She ran her hand over her Mohawk again. “He was already on his way here to meet Solana when we got caught.”

  “Echo?” Van glanced at Brux out of the corner of her eye.

  He avoided her gaze and said in a cracked voice, “He tortured the whole team.”

  Brux looked destroyed. Van longed to wrap her arms around him, to soothe his pain.

  Trey sighed and said, “Merloc got what he wanted from team Echo—knows they’re Lodians after the Coin and that Daisy is the Anchoress-in-Waiting. As soon as Michael meets up with them, he will confirm Daisy’s identity. Then, we’re history.”

  “Daisy must have tuned in to the Coin’s location,” Elmot said, “because if Echo was at the Tipereth-Alga border, it means they were headed north.”

  “My guess is that once Michael meets up with Merloc, he’ll grab Daisy and head north to the Coin,” Jorie said. “Then, Merloc will take the rest of team Echo to Balefire—to continue with the interrogations.”

  Van gazed at Brux. “My father will keep Daisy safe,” she said in a comforting tone. “As the real Anchoress heir, she’s valuable to him.”

  “The good news,” Trey said, “is these barracks are under attack by anti-Manikists.”

  “How is that good news?” Van said, exasperated.

  “They think Solana has Goustav’s heir captured here, along with the document needed to prove the heir’s lineage,” Trey said. “We saw Solana and her entire squadron run to fight them, leaving the place practically unguarded—skeleton crew, mostly consisting of inexperienced guards.”

  “We were waiting for you to wake up,” Brux said, struggling to his feet. He held out his hand to help Van stand.

  “Excellent,” Jorie said, clapping her hands. “We’ve already gone over my plan.”

  “And now we need to implement it,” Trey said.

  Elmot pulled a pin from the lining of his jacket and held it up.

  “What’s the pin for?” Van asked, thinking it was too thin to pick a lock.

  “For emergencies only,” Elmot replied.

  “This qualifies,” Brux said. “Michael knows from Manik’s text that the Coin can be retrieved only during the Alignment, and the window is closing. He’ll head this way, fast.”

  “It will take us longer, because we don’t have Van’s secret map anymore,” Elmot moaned.

  “We might have an heir, though,” Brux stated.

  “It could be me,” Trey said. “I don’t know my family’s lineage. I emancipated from my parents before I left Aduro for Salus Valde. I live with my cousin, who has been disowned by the family, too.”

  “Paley!” Jorie barked. “You ready?”

  Paley stopped gnawing on her cuticles and nodded.

  Elmot handed Paley the pin. “Careful.”

  Trey smirked and said, “Time to use your skill, Paley.”

  Paley sauntered over to the barred wall and said, “Excuse me, guard,” in her most seductive voice.

  The guard strolled over, eyeing Paley, and drawled, “Yeah, sweetheart?”

  Paley immediately stuck the guard’s bare hand with the pin. He dropped to the floor.

  Van gasped.

  “Relax,” Trey said. “He’s not dead.”

  “It’s a sleeping potion,” Elmot said. “We have about twenty minutes.”

  Trey snatched the guard’s keys and unlocked the cell door.

  They dodged a roaming guard, as they snuck back to the main room where their supplies were stashed. Trey rummaged through his backpack for his birch tar tincture to treat Brux’s injuries.

  “The Balish allow Lodians to use magic when it comes to creating medicines,” Trey told Van. “Probably why Solana believed that medicinal magic infused the Gemstones.”

  Van joined Paley and Jorie, helping them stuff their strewn items into the backpacks, while Elmot stood watch at the door.

  Van gathered her items, then frantically kept searching the floor. “My mother’s earrings aren’t here! The box is, but the earrings aren’t.” She zipped her backpack, as Trey reached over and rubbed the gel ointment over the bruise on her cheek. She swatted his hand away. “Neither is my hairbrush.”

  “Neither is Manik’s text,” Jorie said, as she heaved one of the larger backpacks over her shoulder.

  “I have to find my mother’s earrings,” Van said, distressed.

  “There’s no time,” Elmot whispered anxiously. “A guard is bound to come by any second.”

  “They’re probably still in Solana’s pocket,” Trey said, gathering his crossbow and quiver.

  The team hurried down the hallway, hugging the wall.

  Van dropped back. With doors every few yards, Solana could have put her mother’s earrings in any one of these rooms. Most of the guards had left the building. Van considered it worth the risk to take a peek. Hoping to get lucky, she cracked open a door. It revealed an empty interrogation room, which gave her the heebie-jeebies. She gently closed the door and turned to rejoin the end of the line. Her heart skipped a beat. Where had they gone? She found herself alone in the hallway.

  She panicked and tried to sprint, but her pant leg caught on a loose nail in the doorframe. She tugged madly. Visions of being captured—alone—terrified her. She tugged harder. The floorboard creaked. Footsteps echoed from around the corner. A guard was coming!

  A pimply-faced guard rounded the corner, startled to see Van. He dashed forward.

  Van struggled harder to set herself free.

  “H-Halt,” he said, raising a DEW at Van.

  Van stopped wrestling with the nail and held her hands in the air.

  As the guard moved forward, he snapped his hand to his neck, and then thumped to the floor.

  Trey rounded the corner, his lips curled in a smile. “Thank the Light I have good aim,” he said,
wiggling his fingers.

  Brux rushed to Van and untangled her pant leg from the nail.

  “I would rather have shot him with an arrow, but Elmot’s poisonous pin did just fine,” Trey said, as he rifled through the guard’s pockets.

  “Yes!” Trey held several coins in his palm and slipped them into his pocket.

  “No more detours,” scolded Brux. He jostled Van so she that she’d walk in front of him, sandwiched between himself and Trey.

  The three caught up with the rest of the group. Jorie glared at Van but held her tongue and waved them on.

  At a steadfast pace, they made their way out of the compound, hidden in plain sight under the commotion of the attack. They disappeared into the woods and headed north, in the direction of Araquiel.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Day 8: 1:13 a.m., Living World

  Hiking through dark woods, up a mountainside at night, was slow going. Traveling the main road into Araquiel would have been quicker, but Jorie didn't want to risk running into Balish soldiers.

  They had climbed so high in elevation, Van’s breathing became more rapid and her ears ached. Unfortunately, she could still hear Jorie.

  “Get a move on!” Jorie commanded. “You got enough rest in the jail cell.” She started with her random shouts of “Tick tock” again, getting on Van’s last nerve.

  As they hiked farther north into the mountainous region of Fomalhaut, the weather grew colder and breezier. The sky had turned bright blue with the morning sun, but stringy white clouds soon took over. By mid-morning, even Jorie had lost her pep, as Van and the others had hours ago. Finally, Araquiel came into view.

  The group trudged from the woods and stopped short once they’d gotten close enough to get a good view of the townspeople.

  “Whoa,” Trey said.

  The town bustled with Balish military. Their harsh black uniforms contrasted with the snow-dusted ground and the gingerbread-style cottages distinctive of Araquiel.

  “You think Solana’s word about escaped prisoners has reached this area yet?” White puffs came from Brux’s mouth as he spoke.

  “When we left,” Trey said, “she was in the middle of a battle with anti-Manikists.”

  “How long do battles take?” Paley asked. “Do we have enough time to get something to eat?”

  Van noticed that her friend had bitten her gel fingernails down to the nub.

  “We may need to split—” Jorie was interrupted by a harsh male voice.

  “Hey!”

  Van cringed and turned to see a Balish soldier standing behind them. The color drained from her face.

  The others tensed beside her.

  “Keep it moving,” he growled. “No loitering. Keep the walkways clear. The princess is scheduled to come into town today.” He shooed them along.

  “Well, that settles that,” Elmot quipped, as they hurried down the sidewalk. “The word that we’re fugitives hasn’t reached here yet, or we would’ve been arrested.”

  “Can we get breakfast?” Paley pleaded. “It smells yummy.” She stopped in front of a place called the Beef Hearth. “I’m starving! And freezing.”

  Brux turned to Jorie. “We should get off the streets.”

  “We’ve got to get to the Troll’s Foot,” Jorie said.

  “We could go in here and ask where it is,” Paley said, eyeing the eatery.

  “We could all use some nourishment, even if we just buy some rations,” Elmot concurred. “Who knows what lies ahead?”

  “I’ve got money.” Trey jingled the guard’s coins in his pocket.

  Jorie sighed and reluctantly agreed. “Let’s make it quick.”

  Van didn’t care either way—until she glanced above the door at a stained-glass cathedral window designed with five gold pentagram coins. An unsettled feeling overcame her. “I don’t think we should go in,” she warned, but the group ignored her.

  They walked through the door and discovered that the Beef Hearth was the go-to place for Balish military. Black uniforms dominated the room.

  Their entrance did not go unnoticed.

  Trey scanned the room. “Uh, Van’s right. Maybe this isn’t the best place for us to get info or food.”

  “Too late,” Jorie said in a low voice. “If we leave now, we’ll draw attention that will make us look guilty.”

  “We are guilty,” Van said, stressing out.

  “We should go,” Paley said, changing her tune.

  Paley was not one to pass on an eatery.

  A potbellied man with cherub cheeks hustled over to them and said, “No, no, no!” He wore a crisp striped jersey under a well-used apron. “We don’t serve riffraff like you! Out, out!”

  “Riffraff?!” Jorie’s four fingers wrapped around Zachery.

  Half of the diners in the place stared at them. Several nearby Balish soldiers fidgeted in their seats.

  “Keep your hands in sight.” His words came quickly, as he shuffled Van and the others toward the door.

  Back on the street, Jorie fumed, “He thinks we’re marketier’s scouts. Worthless unless we bring bounty home to our parents.”

  Brux snickered. “He thought we were going to rob them.”

  “We probably couldn’t afford to eat there, anyway,” Trey said.

  “Let’s head north, outside the downtown area,” Elmot suggested, as he consulted one of his maps. “We might have better luck there, and we’ll be away from most of the soldiers.”

  They went to another eatery, then another, and another. No one would risk letting marketier’s scouts in.

  “What’re we gonna do for food?” Paley whimpered, as they walked aimlessly down a quiet side street.

  “Where’re we gonna sleep?” said Van. All of this rejection had worn on her. She’d had enough of roughing it.

  “Do you need rest?” Brux asked Van. He had stayed suffocatingly close since her fainting episode.

  Already in a bad mood, Van found it easy to ignore him.

  Sleet poured down, as they came upon a handful of small, off-the-path eateries. The group squabbled over which one looked most likely to take them in.

  Fed up, Van said, “This one.” She picked a place with the friendliest vibe.

  Roguey, the owner of Rocky Mount Eatery, gave them a wary eye. “What brings the likes of you here?”

  Jorie told their story about being marketier’s scouts searching for the Runestar. Roguey agreed to feed and shelter them as long as they stayed hidden in his barn for the rest of the day.

  Roguey’s barn was less than ideal, being drafty, with a leaking roof, and it smelled like moldy hay and horse poop. But with the whole team so tired, no one felt like being picky.

  Trey paid several pecs to Roguey, who went off to fetch food.

  Brux found kindling in the barn and lit a contained fire in an old metal barrel for warmth. Jorie thought it best to wait until Roguey got comfortable with them before asking him the location of the Troll’s Foot.

  Every so often, the scuffling in the stalls and the whinnying of horses startled them. Nevertheless, they settled in, resigned to stay put until dusk.

  Roguey served dinner to them in the barn. Being so hungry, Van once again ditched her vegetarianism and ate the smoked sausages, along with the boiled potatoes. It was the most delicious food she had ever tasted and the most any of them had eaten in the last week. With her belly full, Van felt thankful for the break, but she couldn’t shake the disquieting feeling of losing time.

  Roguey came in to clear the dishes and brought them playing cards. The deck consisted of seventy-two numbered pictorial cards. Thanks to Jorie’s magic, they could play a card game called Swirl. Everyone seemed familiar with it, except Van and Paley.

  People called the game Swirl because the cards randomly reshuffled themselves, like a swirling wind. The game required the winner to collect a hand that contained sets and runs, similar to Gin Rummy. To do this, the player either had to draw the anchor card—this would hold the player’s cards in place
during the swirl, while the other people’s cards were rearranged—or be lucky enough to assemble a winning hand before the next swirl. The Balish had outlawed the popular Lodian game because it required magically enchanted cards to work. But the team felt safe enough in Roguey’s barn to play without fear of being caught.

  After tiring of cards, they all wandered off to do their own thing.

  Brux tended the fire. “Maybe we should rescue Daisy,” he suggested.

  Every fiber of Van’s being told her they had to keep moving north, but this time when Brux mentioned going off track, it didn’t bother her. She knew he felt concerned about his sister’s wellbeing. Van worried about Daisy, too.

  “We’re not equipped to do battle against trained Balish soldiers,” said Elmot. He sat cross-legged on a bale of hay, maps in hand. “And we’re outnumbered.”

  “We can use stealth to infiltrate the camp,” Brux said, “and our wits to outsmart them.”

  Trey lay on his back, tossing a stone into the air and catching it. “Michael is holding our Anchoress captive—before her powers have manifested. She’s basically defenseless.”

  Jorie sat on a milk crate, repeatedly flipping Zachery into the air and catching it. “And her Assigned Protector is in the dungeons of Balefire with Merloc.”

  Everyone knew she meant Marcus.

  “How did Marcus know that he’s her Assigned Protector?” Paley asked.

  “He was probably told in his briefing with Uxa,” Brux said. “APs are born with the deep desire to protect, which draws them to the profession of becoming Grigori. An AP develops an inner knowledge that he has been assigned, but he doesn’t know the identity of the Anchoress or whether he will be needed to serve his role or if he’s even right about his gut feeling. Protocol, crafted by the Elementals, dictates that the HG tells him of his assignment after he completes training and becomes a full-fledged Grigori. And only after the newest Anchoress is made aware of her position, which usually occurs after her mother dies, or when her mother chooses to pass the Anchoress Light down to her daughter, using the Transference of Light spell.”

  “The Elementals are an odd bunch, aren’t they?” Paley said.