Life

by Rosie Scott

  Altan was already halfway through his mug of ale by the time I sat beside him. He lifted the cup up to toast Calder's and said, “Thank you for the treat, friend. This is my favorite part about being in this nation of metalhuggers.”

  “I'm fairly certain you also like the fighting and the ongoing sense of danger,” I commented.

  Altan laughed and punched me in the arm playfully. “You know it! Great minds think alike.”

  I rubbed at my arm and lamented, “Altan, I'm barely over one hundred pounds. If you keep hitting me, I am going to break.”

  Altan snorted in amusement. “I apologize, Kai. It's a habit.”

  “He only punches people he likes,” Uriel informed me. “It helps if you're a woman.”

  I couldn't help but laugh at that. “You only punch women you like? How's that working out for you?”

  Altan grinned. “I'm still single, aren't I?”

  After the laughter died down, I decided to broach more serious territory. “How goes the research into Tyrus's armor?”

  Altan put his mug down on the table. “Slowly. The dwarves wouldn't tell us where his forge was, so we were searching those damn mines for days. You told us that Tyrus came late into the battle with a whole army of elites from the mountains, so we were looking for a forge near a big room for supplies and equipment. I think we found the place, but we have few answers so far as to his methods.” Altan paused and wagged a finger over at Maggie. “Speaking of which, I meant to ask if you'd like to take a look at it.”

  Maggie perked up from over her empty mug. “The armor or the forge?”

  “Both,” Altan replied. “The sooner, the better. If we could figure out how Tyrus got that armor to be so strong against the elements, we could start using his methods.” He looked over at me. “It could be helpful in your fight against Chairel once we get there.”

  “I'll take a look at 'em both, love,” Maggie promised.

  “Let's talk about our fight against Chairel,” Cyrus spoke up, taking the opportunity to breach the subject naturally.

  Altan chuckled. “Okay. Long time away, but let's talk.” He lifted his mug again.

  “What do you think is going to happen once we reach that border?” Cyrus asked.

  Altan hesitated as he drank, before pulling the mug away from his lips and looking perplexed. “What do I think? What's it matter what I think? As far as I'm concerned, we'll reach the border and then we'll pass it. I don't plan on stopping for very long.”

  Cyrus glanced over at me and flicked his eyes to Altan. Moving my right hand beneath the table, I summoned charm and sent the energy into Altan's leg. I winked once at Cyrus, who then said, “Tilda's pulling us out of this war at the border.”

  Altan chuckled. “What makes you say that? She wants Chairel off their pedestal. We'll be going there.”

  “If it weren't for the Alderi, we wouldn't even be in a position to take Hammerton after our casualties of the past few years,” Cyrus replied. “Olympia was a hard battle, and we have many more fights ahead of us. Even if Tilda plans on going to Chairel, she's going to change her mind really quickly when we near that border with massive casualties and a new country's worth of land we need to look after.”

  Altan twisted his lips to the side, thinking. “Most of the Alderi are necromancers,” he replied. “Each one is then worth dozens. Our army can last through both Hammerton and Chairel. Our casualties from this takeover weren't nearly as bad as we once feared.” He smiled over at Azazel and me. “Thanks to the plan of these two.”

  “Tilda never said anything to you about pulling out of the war?” Cyrus questioned.

  “No,” Altan said. “Then again, she never tells me anything.”

  “She sabotaged my communication with Kai,” Calder spoke up. “She received the intel I put in my letter to the Renegades even though she claimed Mistral never got it.”

  Altan frowned. “Even if you have proof of that being true, why would she do that? If you had intel for our mission here, it would have been best for her to let us know.”

  “She let Kirek know,” Uriel said. “No one else. You remember when Kirek told us that Hammerton expected our attack and that the majority of their defenses would be in Olympia. All of that was in Calder's letter, and Tilda claimed she never got it.”

  Altan shrugged. “A stupid decision, sure, but Tilda's prone to those.”

  Cyrus exhaled with frustration. “Damn it, Altan, listen to us. You've seen the way Tilda behaves. You know this alliance has done nothing but benefit her thus far, and you know she won't keep alliances worth a damn. Tilda and Kai can't stand each other. Tilda will accept Kai's help until she gets what she wants and then drop her support.”

  “I'm listening to you, Cyrus,” Altan retorted, sounding irritated, “and I don't agree with you. Tilda hates Chairel with a boiling passion. There's no reason she wouldn't want to invade it and help in its takeover.”

  “Sure there is,” Uriel argued. “Tilda wants to invade Chairel. She just wants to weaken it first.” Uriel pointed at me. “She'll let Kai do all the dirty work. Hammerton will be out of the way. Tilda will have two countries under her belt. Pull her support. Let Kai damage Chairel with armies Tilda thinks are lesser until the rebellion is squashed. And then, there Chairel will be for the taking, weakened with no allies and ready to invade. Without Kai. Eteri will be the largest world power by far at that point. Glacia is under the seas, and the wildlands and Nahara won't stand a chance.”

  Altan laughed boisterously. “Really? Do you really think ol' Tilda wants to rule the world? That's an idealistic goal, Uriel, and a stupid one.”

  “You just said Tilda's prone to stupid decisions,” I pointed out. “Melting Glacia could have been described as idealistic at one time.”

  Altan glanced over at me. “Don't tell me you've fallen under the same spell as these two,” he said, jerking a thumb toward Cyrus and Uriel.

  “Tilda's been planning to double-cross me since the first day I walked through the door of her throne room, Altan,” I replied.

  Altan sighed heavily. “Good gods, Kai, we've been over this.”

  “You once expressed fear for your own life working under her,” I retorted. “Don't act exasperated with me. I offered you shelter, remember?”

  “Yes, and I haven't needed it, have I?” Altan abruptly pushed his mug away from him on the table. “What's the point in dwelling in this negativity? I feel like the only reason you all brought me here is to bombard me with it.”

  “We want your honesty,” Cyrus told him.

  “I've never been anything but honest with you,” Altan said. “You and I have been friends for centuries, Cyrus. Far longer than I've been friendly with anyone else. You've earned my respect and honesty. You know that.”

  Cyrus leaned forward on the table. “Then tell me what you'll do when Tilda sends the order to leave the Seran Renegades at the border.”

  “I don't like hypotheticals,” Altan replied dismissively.

  “That's why I didn't frame it like one,” Cyrus said smoothly.

  Altan's nostrils flared, and he leaned over the table as if to mimic Cyrus. “If she sent the order, I'd ignore it.”

  “You can't ignore her orders forever,” Cyrus replied.

  “No,” Altan agreed. “But I know that as long as Kirek doesn't hear about that message, I could pretend I hadn't received it. If it worked for Tilda and Calder's letter as you say, it'll work for us.”

  “And when the next message gets sent, and the next?” Cyrus prodded.

  “Then I'd follow it,” Altan replied. “I wouldn't like it, but as Kai so helpfully pointed out, I'm not willing to risk my life to avoid Tilda's orders forever. She would have no qualms about killing me to make an example out of me.”

  “Yet you serve her so faithfully,” I lamented.

  “She is my queen,” Altan retorted, his red eyes sharp with anger as he stared over at me. “And I am the first heir. If anything, Kai, I am trying to hold onto my position
so I can claim that throne whenever Tilda finally decides to kick the bucket. The fact that I'm willing to risk everything and ignore those orders at all should tell you how high I regard you.”

  I exhaled shakily at the tense air between us. “I appreciate that greatly, Altan.”

  “How high do you regard me?” Cyrus questioned.

  Altan laughed humorlessly and pressed his face into a palm. “Fucking hell, I just told you—”

  “I have an assassination contract out on Tilda's life,” Cyrus blurted to get it over with. “Now tell me again how high you regard me.”

  Altan was silent. His hand dropped from his face, and his eyes were wide and unblinking as he stared across the table at his friend, incredulous. A few tense seconds went by before he breathed, “Tell me you're joking.”

  Cyrus was quiet for a moment, though he finally said, “I am not.”

  Altan's eyes moved from Cyrus to Uriel, and then to the others before they came to me. “Is this because of you?”

  Cyrus cut in before I could reply. “Kai has nothing to do with this. This was me and only me. I've been trying to have Tilda assassinated for years.”

  Altan was speechless. His red eyes became distant, and he said coldly, “That's unbecoming of you, Cyrus.” He shook his head erratically, as if unwilling to believe his ears. “Gods. I actually feel nauseous.”

  Cyrus's nostrils flared. “Are you truly so loyal?”

  “To Tilda?” Altan asked, looking sick. “No. To you? Yes, I thought so.”

  Cyrus paled. “You know how awful of a queen she is,” he reasoned, sounding panicked. “I am at my wit's end. So are you. We have both served her for four hundred years, Altan. It's time for a change of leadership. You would be a good leader. I want you to be our leader.”

  Altan was silent a moment. “Cyrus, when we were just soldiers together, part of the reason we bonded was that we both wanted to change Eteri. We wanted our country to have a better future than what Tilda was going to provide for it. Part of what we hated about her was her sneaky ways.” He motioned to me. “I've accepted that Tilda may tell us to abandon the Renegades because I know how she is. As much as I wish it weren't true, that's a fact. But I befriended you so easily because we both agreed we weren't like that. We didn't want that. Yet here you are, resorting to the same tactics Tilda uses.”

  “Because I have no other choice,” Cyrus said desperately.

  “You do,” Altan argued, though his voice was lacking in its usual energy. “You're just choosing differently. And as much as you say this was up to you and only you...” He circled a finger around at the rest of us. “Their silence speaks wonders.”

  “Kai,” Cyrus said, his voice thick with emotion. He pointed to Altan. “End it.”

  As Altan started to stammer in bewilderment at the statement, I sent the spell confusion into his side. Altan went quiet, and then he began to panic, not understanding where he was or who he was with. I used calm next, and he went still. He continued to look confused for a few minutes, and the rest of us silently waited for him to break out of it. When he did, it was immediately prevalent. His face brightened, and he snapped his fingers over the table as if just remembering something.

  “I wanted to ask you something,” Altan told Maggie, just as happy as he'd been before our talk.

  “Sure, love,” Maggie replied, doing her best to play along.

  “Would you have any interest in taking a look at Tyrus's armor?” Altan frowned as he found his mug shoved far away from him, and pulled it back to himself. “I thought if anyone could figure out what kinds of materials the bastard put in it, it'd be you.” He smiled over at me. “Maybe we could even use it ourselves before going to battle against Chairel.”

  Twenty-three

  “I'm going to retire for the night,” Cyrus announced, standing abruptly from the table. Uriel glanced up at him with concern from the next chair over.

  “Is everything okay?” Altan asked him. “You look upset.”

  “The ale didn't sit well,” Cyrus lied, before hurrying to leave. Uriel and I exchanged glances as the door opened and shut.

  I stood from the table and patted Altan on the shoulder. “If I'm not back within the hour, I'll buy you another keg tomorrow.”

  Altan raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Sure. Feel free to buy me ale anytime.”

  I tapped Azazel on the shoulder as I turned to leave, and he stood to follow. I gave Cerin a look that said I'd meet with him later and hurried out the door.

  Cyrus walked briskly along the riverside toward the east, and Azazel and I quickly caught up to him. The Sentinel glanced over as we approached, and despite his inner turmoil, he seemed relieved to see us.

  “Where are you going?” I asked him.

  “I planned on following this river until it ended,” he replied.

  “You want to watch the ocean, then,” I surmised.

  “Maybe I'll keep walking once I get there.”

  “Don't say that,” I scolded him softly.

  Cyrus blew a hard exhale through his lips. “All right. I won't.”

  “Can we join you?” I asked. “If you want to be alone, I'll respect that. But it seems like you could use an ear or two.”

  “Or four,” Azazel added beside me.

  Cyrus smiled softly at that, though he kept his eyes on the starry skies. “I want nothing more than for you both to join me,” he admitted. “I've been so busy getting this city ready for an attack that I haven't had time to think.”

  I sympathized with that. We had all been working over the past weeks to rebuild Olympia, collect intel, establish new trading routes between the city and Monte and Pisces in the north, and prepare our soldiers for further battles. Other than Quellden, Olympia's takeover was the largest I'd had a part in. Winning land during a war was always exhilarating, but it was the small details that came into play afterward that could be overwhelming.

  Olympia was beautiful tonight. Because we were on its lowest tier, its fiery braziers seemed to stretch into the sky to our right. Even higher above that, the dwarven sculptures in the mountains blocked out many of the stars because they rivaled the heavens. The well-lit cobblestone streets highlighted patrolling Vhiri soldiers and dwarven civilians who were out late. Like in Monte, many of the civilians had tried their best to continue their lives as best they could. Unlike in the smaller towns, however, many of the dwarves had stopped working in protest. There were service workers who didn't want their work to aid the Eteri Army, and many shop owners closed up their businesses to refuse service to all. We'd also had scuffles and fights break out between the dwarves and Vhiri because tensions were high.

  The one thing we hadn't expected was how many dwarves were willing to warm up to the Alderi which were now throughout the city under Calder's command. Nyx had told me years ago about how the two races shared a love of partying and sex, but they were always too busy fighting for underground space to take advantage of it. Now, Olympia was well-populated with thousands of exotic men and women looking to give the dwarves good times with no strings attached, and many of the natives were so excited by that prospect that they were willing to overlook the circumstances.

  Many of the dwarves were lovers of war like myself, but most with that mentality had already lost. There were many others like the civilian I'd listened to in the Hall of the Dead who did not want to get involved with the war and disliked both sides of it. Ever since Olympia's takeover, we'd had many reports that dwarves were escaping the city and fleeing south. Perhaps they simply refused to live under Vhiri rule, or maybe still they were looking to rebuild the military checkpoints in the mountains and eventually form a rebellion. The Sentinels had decided not to pursue the stragglers. We had greater things to worry about for now. I was reminded of my talks with the rest of the Renegades years ago when we'd first entered Eteri; my friends had reasoned that the dwarves would find a way to rebuild, and they were right. Even if Eteri continued to grow and get more power hungry, the dwarves would event
ually come to clash with them again.

  My wandering thoughts started to slow once the three of us reached the coast. Our walk had taken at least an hour so I would owe Altan a night of drinking. It was late enough now that I knew I'd be crawling into bed later severely fatigued while secretly hoping I hadn't kept Cerin up worrying to death. None of that was more than a passing concern to me now. Cyrus was a dear friend of mine, and the events of the Hammerton campaign so far had kept us from spending much quality time together. He needed support, and I would have passed out from exhaustion before refusing to give it.

  The Sentinel kept walking along the southern Hammerton dock just where the river fed its clear waters to the abyss of the ocean. If he hadn't calmed over our travel here, I would have worried he would walk straight into the sea. Instead, Azazel and I followed him to the end of a long pier facing east. Cyrus stood just at its edge before lowering himself to sit with his legs dangling toward the waters.

  The three of us sat like this for a few minutes, listening to the ocean serenade the coast. The creaking of warships were little more than ghostly cries in the harbor on either side of our pier, and we were too far from the forest now to hear the roar of its insects.

  Cyrus finally broke the silence by chuckling softly with nostalgia. His eyes were downcast, watching the water glimmer below his dangling feet. His thick brown hair hung before his eyes, hiding them in shadow. “This reminds me of my childhood,” he murmured.

  “In Scirocco?” I asked him.

  “Yes.” Cyrus looked up to watch the water wave by in the moonlight. “I would often go out to the docks there. Sit like this with childhood friends. Sometimes we'd fish, sometimes we'd throw each other in and get yelled at by the sailors.” He hesitated and looked over at Azazel and me with a soft smile. “I love the water. I find it soothing. It is also all-consuming. Sometimes the mages will have petty arguments about which element is best. I don't normally get involved because I don't really care. I am a water mage, so that is what I work with. But I do think water is underrated. It is both majestic and terrifying.”