The Wayward Prince (The Redfern Legacy Book 1)

by N. C. Hayes

  “I think there’s a lot more to learn here.”

  “You read the message on that box. Do you want to start a war with the covens? Because that’s where this type of talk is headed.”

  “No, of course I don’t want a war. But maybe . . .” I sighed. “Maybe if we sent someone who could speak on Aydan’s behalf, speak to them directly—”

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Gerridan was on his feet now, raising his voice. My blood boiled as he did so, and my hands started smoking. “My men were tortured, their minds played with by the Children, and you’re talking about a follow up mission? With whom? Someone closer to Aydan so they can tear their mind open and loot it for information? You?”

  “What’s going on here?” Alastair had effuged into the room. He looked to Gerridan and me, who were inches apart and furious. “You left without saying anything.”

  “Shaye has lost her gods-damned mind,” Gerridan said through gritted teeth.

  “I’m only saying that there might be another solution besides tucking our tails between our legs and hiding away so the Children don’t come for us.” I flexed my hands and realized they were fully engulfed in flames.

  “I’m sure Shaye only has everyone’s best interest in mind, even if you’re upset right now—”

  “She wants someone close to Aydan, someone with more bargaining power, to seek out the Children in a follow up mission,” Gerridan spat. Alastair’s eyebrows rose so high that they nearly disappeared into his hairline. He gawked at me.

  “Shaye . . . you can’t be serious.”

  “It was just a thought, and then Gerridan . . .” I glared at him again. “Is it such an inconceivable thing, that the Children might be making themselves appear to be more dangerous than they are?” I then listed off the reasons for my theory to Alastair, who at least gave me the courtesy of listening before sighing and running his hand over his face.

  “Look, maybe you’re right, but the risk is too great. There’s too much at stake. We cannot afford a war right now.”

  “Again, I’m not looking to start a war. I just think that it’s a bit early to be calling it quits.”

  The front door opened and in walked Kenna and Aydan, who must have taken the long way home. Kenna read the room and a frown formed on her face.

  “Is everything all right?” Aydan asked, slipping his hands into his pockets.

  “No,” said Kenna, answering for Gerridan and me.

  The emissary looked to Aydan and said, “Talk to her.” He waved an irritated hand in my direction.

  “Don’t talk about me like I’m not standing right in front of you,” I snapped before turning to Aydan. “I made the mistake of voicing an idea aloud in front of Gerridan, and now he’s acting like I’m crazy—”

  “You want to seek out the Children!” Gerridan roared. “After everything you saw just now. Right when we’re on the brink of peace with Nautia, you want to stir shit up with the covens.”

  Aydan blinked. “Is that true?”

  “No. Well, yes—” I fumbled. “Gerridan is completely oversimplifying what I said.”

  “And what did you say?” His voice wasn’t unkind, but it wasn’t the voice I knew either. It was the voice of a diplomat solving a dispute between warring nations.

  So I told him everything. “I think it’s worth considering sending someone who can do more than deliver a message. Someone with real bargaining power, to negotiate terms.” Aydan was quiet, looking at the floor with his hands still shoved into his pockets. It felt like an eternity, waiting for him to speak. When he finally did, I wished he hadn’t.

  “Shaye . . . this cannot happen.” I clenched my jaw. “I know how much you’d hoped we would find someone to help you, but we will have to seek a teacher elsewhere.”

  “Oh, you mean in one of the hundreds of other covens lined up, waiting to teach me how not to kill myself?” I rolled my eyes, then held up my hands. The flames had extinguished but my palms still smoked. “Sparring with Al and Ger can only do so much. I don’t know how many more outbursts I’ll survive.”

  “I’m not saying we give up,” Aydan said. “I just don’t want you seeking out the Children. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I’m capable of protecting myself.”

  “We don’t know that,” he replied. My eyebrows shot up and he added, “You’ve never used your training outside the sparring ring. You are the highest-ranking member of my Cabinet. War and unrest would follow if something happened to you.”

  “It doesn’t have to. I’ll go, knowing the risks. I’ll negotiate a truce on your behalf. We could achieve the same peace with the Children as we will with Nautia. If it goes poorly, and they are what you claim, then there will be nothing left to do. No fights to engage them in. You’re the king, you don’t have to go to war over an advisor.” It felt as if all the air had been sucked from the room as I met Aydan’s eyes. Behind the anger lay something else. Hurt. Frost crept up my hands and smothered the smoke.

  “Firstly,” Aydan started after a silent minute. The rest of the Cabinet watched on. “Your plan assumes that the Children simply kill you and don’t attack us, at which point I would have to engage, no matter your request. Next, if you think for a second that I wouldn’t tear that coven apart with my bare hands if something happened to you, then you severely underestimate my feelings—”

  “You’re not listening to me,” I said. “Aydan, I know you love me. I do. I love you too. I’m begging you to try and understand where I’m coming from—”

  “I understand where you’re coming from perfectly fine. It’s why we sent the sentries in the first place and look what happened. You’re not going. It’s not happening. You’re not going to get yourself killed over this.”

  “Your grandmother would certainly be pleased,” I mumbled. “Then I would be out of the way and you could marry Reyna and play happy family with her and Calliope.”

  “Don’t be petty,” he snapped. “Reyna is a friend, and she has been nothing but kind to you. I’ve told you my feelings on the matter, and I have addressed the issue with Solandis. Don’t throw things I’ve already taken care of in my face because you’re pissed and feeling insecure.”

  I clenched my jaw and blinked a few times. Aydan’s mind was made up.

  So was mine.

  Silently, I turned and poured myself a drink from the cart. I felt everyone’s eyes on me as I drained the glass and set it down. Without turning back to them, I said, “I think I’ll go to bed.” Aydan’s warm hand rested on my shoulder.

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” he said in a near whisper. I shrugged out of his touch.

  “I think I’ll go to my own bed tonight,” I replied softly before walking toward the stairs.

  “Shaye,” Aydan croaked, and my heart shattered. I walked until I reached my old room, where I let the door click shut behind me.

  ~

  Hours later, I lay on top of my bed, fully dressed, staring at the ceiling in the darkness.

  An hour after our argument, Aydan knocked softly on the door, calling my name just once. I didn’t answer, and after a couple of minutes, he left. I wanted so badly to open the door, to let him talk to me, to sleep next to him tonight. But I knew if I saw his face, I wouldn’t be able to muster up the courage to do what I was about to.

  I stood and cast two orbs of light. There was nothing in the wardrobe, save for a couple sets of sparring leathers folded and placed in the bottom.

  I put one set on, fastened the buckles and laced my jacket, before pulling on a pair of boots. In a trunk, I found a Sylvannian army knapsack like the one Aydan had used during our first days together. The other set of leathers went inside, as well as some socks and other essentials, and I strapped a single dagger to my leg. I wrapped my hair into a tight braid and secured it before creeping my way silently down the stairs of the sleeping house and into the kitchens, where I filled the bag with food and a canteen. In a closet, I found an extra cloak and a bedroll, but no tent. I
hoped I wouldn’t encounter any storms while wandering the mountains.

  I found a pen in the kitchen and, on a spare sheet of stationery, wrote just two sentences: I’m sorry. I love you. I crept back to set it on the dining room table and was about to make my way to the door when an orb of light appeared, floating dimly in the middle of the room. I turned and saw Hannele’s face illuminated in the darkness.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” She looked me up and down.

  “Hannele. Please, I have to—”

  “You know this is treason? That you’re breaking every oath you’ve made to Aydan and the Crown?”

  “I do.” I swallowed. “But this—I can’t wait around for answers to fall into my lap, Hannele. If I’m successful, not only will I know how to manage my powers, but we could bring an era of peace that Medeisia has never seen.”

  “And if you fail, you’ll be dead and Medeisia will be at war with the Children and their allies.”

  “I—”

  “Better not fail, then,” she finished. I gawked at her, finally taking in her outfit. She was in sparring gear too, and carried a bag.

  “Han . . . what are you—”

  “I’m coming with you.” She gestured into the darkness. “She’ll keep watch here.” I peered behind her and watched in disbelief as Kenna stepped into the light.

  “Ken,” I choked.

  “Don’t start acting sentimental,” she said, eyeing me. “You can thank me when you come home. Alive, please.” I nodded with silent promise.

  “So you’re going to keep your sight on me?” I asked.

  “Not on you. Her.” She nodded to Hannele, who was checking her bow now slung over her shoulder. “I’ll be able to see her while you’re traveling, but I have a suspicion things might be spotty once you’re in their encampment. As soon as she crosses the border back into Sylvanna, I’ll feel her.”

  “Don’t let him do anything stupid,” I told her. “I’ll be back.”

  “I can keep him steady for a couple weeks,” Kenna said. “Try to be home before then.”

  “We need to go,” said Hannele. She threw her arms around Kenna and squeezed tightly. I did the same, and the three of us held each other for a moment.

  When we let go, I said, “Just one more thing,” and grabbed the pen and note I’d left for Aydan. I’d barely finished scribbling one last line when Hannele snatched my hand and effuged us out of the dining room.

  I’m sorry.

  I love you.

  Two weeks.

  Chapter Forty-One

  We landed at the base of a mountain where wind and snow whipped around us in the dark, making it almost impossible to see. Hannele grabbed my hand and shouted over the screaming winds, “Keep moving, we need to cover as much ground as possible.”

  In his research, Gerridan had determined that the most likely location of the Children’s encampment would be somewhere near the Five-Peak Summit. Though I couldn’t see far enough ahead to confirm for myself, I assumed that that was where Hannele had effuged us. The strategy expert knew we were on limited time, and the only thing more efficient than starting at the base of the five peaks would be effuging directly to the summit. Two Medeisians accidentally effuging directly into the encampment would likely be executed on sight. The base it was.

  We stumbled through the snow for about an hour before Hannele grabbed my arm and pointed ahead to a cave in the side of the mountain. We made our way there, and I sighed when we entered, still freezing, but at least not in the direct path of the storm.

  “Can you start a fire?” she asked, setting down her pack and conjuring an orb of light to the top of the cave. I held up my hand and willed a spark to come out.

  “If we can find wood and kindling, maybe,” I said. Hannele pointed to her pack.

  “I have a few things in there that might help. I’m going to make sure we’re alone in here,” she said, gesturing to the back of the cave. Something I hadn’t considered. I shuddered. “I won’t be gone long.” She started toward the back of the cave and I began digging through the bag.

  When she returned, I had a fire crackling. There had indeed been a bag of kindling in her pack, and I’d managed to find enough dry wood to at least get us started. It wouldn’t last us the whole night, but it would help us get warm for the time being. “All clear.” Hannele sat next to me and held her hands out to the fire. We were quiet for a few minutes before she asked, “So what’s your plan?”

  “My plan?”

  “What are you going to say to the Children if we find them?”

  “I’m not completely sure,” I admitted. “I’ll have to pretend I can speak on Aydan’s behalf. If they listen to me, I’ll try and strike some sort of deal—”

  “You can,” Hannele said, rummaging through her bag for food. “You’re the highest-ranking court official in Medeisia. If you can’t speak for him, who can?”

  “If we live through this, I doubt I’ll be the Chief Advisor for much longer,” I replied, reaching for my own bag and pulling out some dried meat and an apple. “I’ll be lucky if I’m even allowed to keep the Redfern estates, let alone show my face at court.”

  “He’ll forgive us. Well, he’ll forgive you, at least. Me, I’m not so sure. Gerridan certainly won’t.” She stuffed some bread into her mouth.

  “Gerridan loves you,” I said.

  “I know,” Hannele replied. I started to press further but she cut me off. “We’d better get some sleep. Not too much, though. I don’t want to get snowed in. We’ll take shifts.”

  “You go ahead and rest,” I told her. “I’ll take the first watch.” She pulled a thick bedroll from her pack and spread it out.

  “Wake me in an hour.”

  ~

  A few hours later, we trekked through the snowy mountainside in silence. The sun was starting to rise, and as I watched it come up over the top of the five peaks, it was hard to believe that only yesterday I was plotting trade routes. I wondered if Aydan realized we were gone yet. I imagined his distraught face reading my note, Gerridan’s hurt and Alastair’s anguish. Alastair, who had finally found one last piece of Brina in me, would be sick with worry. No, I told myself, pushing the thoughts away. Better to focus on the task at hand.

  As we climbed higher, the air became thinner and there was less walking on trails and over rocks and more scaling the sides of huge boulders. Our hands and knees rubbed themselves raw over the tops of the rough terrain, slick and slippery with ice and snow. By nightfall, we had reached the top of the lowest peak, with much more to cover come morning. It was a hell of a feat to not collapse onto my bedroll when we found another cave that night. Instead, I took the first watch again.

  ~

  It was five days later that I began to worry that we weren’t going to find anything. Wandering the mountains for nearly a week now, we had seen no life aside from each other and an occasional mouse—no sign of the Children anywhere. We finally stopped for the night, once again having hiked and climbed until it was too dark to see. I peered inside my pack and frowned, while Hannele massaged her swollen feet and dried her socks near the fire.

  “That’s the end of anything fresh,” I said, pulling out the last portion of bread I’d saved for dinner. It had gone moldy. “Down to the dried meat.”

  “I still have a few apples and a lump of cheese,” Hannele replied. “We can share.” I handed her some of the meat and took an apple from the bag she shoved in my direction. “Tomorrow we should make it a point to find more food. Better to take the break and look now than wait until we’re out of supplies.”

  “Good idea,” I said with a sigh. Putting ourselves a day behind schedule wasn’t ideal, but it was better to be prepared. I yawned. “Want me to take the first watch?”

  “No, I’ll do it.” She pulled her warm, dry socks back on her feet. “Get some sleep.”

  I was too tired to argue. I smoothed out my bedroll and lay down, not bothering to remove my boots. “’Night,” I said.

&nb
sp; “See you in a few hours,” said Hannele.

  ~

  As soon as I felt myself slip into sleep, my eyes snapped open in darkness. I recognized the feeling of cold bare feet on the black floor—if you could call it that—and looked up to see a light once again in the distance. I followed it.

  Sure enough, I soon found myself standing at the edge of a room, watching the same red-haired man pour over books and mutter what must have been spells to himself. This time, I could see his face more clearly, and I gasped when I realized who stood before me. I saw him the day I’d mindwalked with Alastair.

  It was Lord Ronan.

  I was watching my father practice witchcraft in what I could only guess was his secret study. His finger traced along the words on the page, then he reached for a nearby bottle containing some dried, black herb and examined it before tapping the page. The volume snapped itself shut as soon as he pulled his hand away, and Ronan walked away from the desk, toward a table holding a cauldron. He took a pinch of the substance and sprinkled it into the potion, which glowed a bright shade of purple. Ronan sighed. He seemed disappointed in his creation.

  “You’re back,” he said without turning. I froze. “Tell me, are you a specter come to haunt me? Or a messenger from the gods to warn me of my misdeeds?” I remained silent. Ronan turned, facing me and gripping the table behind him. He glared at me. “Well? Speak, girl.”

  “You can see me?” I nearly whispered. He raised his eyebrows and nodded once. “I—I’m not a specter. Or a messenger,” I told him. “I’m just a woman. Sorcerer, like you.”

  “And how did you come to find me?”

  “I think I’m asleep. I think this . . . this place is in my head,” I replied. Ronan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back.

  “That’s new.” His voice was full of curiosity. “If you’re in your head, where is your body?”

  “I’m in a cave, in the Creg’tam Mountains,” I said. “I seek the Children.” The lord’s mouth became a flat line.