by Cait Ashwood
New masonry had been installed from floor to ceiling, cutting off a large portion of the suite. A proper door insulated her private chambers from the public area, and she headed toward it, a bubbly feeling in her belly. The door didn’t swing, but instead pushed into the wall, almost disappearing. The large bed that had dominated the space had been changed out, something she felt immediately thankful for, as that had been the bed shared by her parents. In its place was a masterpiece that had Nya’s handiwork all over it. Her bed frame was literally grown from strong grape vines, rooted in a deep tray in the floor. They wove in an intricate pattern for the head and foot boards, sprouting leaves along the top and bottom. She went over, leaning on the bed and testing it. It held her weight, though it did sway a little. A giggle escaped her; she couldn’t help it.
A soft whine brought her attention back to the bed. Between two pillows, there was an extra lump. As Brana approached, that lump wiggled, and soon enough Pebble poked her head out.
“I was wondering where you were hiding.” Brana picked the pup up, her face promptly bathed in kisses. She’d never particularly wanted a dog, but she’d inherited Pebble, much like she had the rooms. She carried the dog with her as she explored the rest of her room.
The walls were a soothing cream color, lighter than the grape vines. Her old dresser and furniture was here, though the trunk at the foot of the bed was larger to match in size. Two other doors off to the side caught her attention. She opened the first and saw a proper closet with shoe storage and plenty of room for all her robes. It was too much room, really, but she wasn’t about to complain. Curious, she opened the final door.
A large, clawed tub, her mother’s tub, sat in the center of the room on a plush green rug. She spied the pulley system for hauling up water along the back wall, but what caught her immediate attention was the large piece of artwork hanging on the wall in a heavy silver frame.
It’s the cliffs.
“Do you like it?” Jasper stood in the doorway, looking uncertain.
She was still taking in all the details. “I thought Ace made you give up your painting?” She stared at the landscape, the mood of the water dark with foaming white caps. Just like it was the day we went cliff diving. Its beauty was in the stark contrasts, the vivid greens of the coast and the dark, stormy grays. The water which contained all those colors and more. Just seeing it, she swore she could smell the ocean.
“Well... Dad doesn’t know everything.”
“It’s beautiful, Jasper. It really is.” She couldn’t tear her eyes away from it.
He stepped into the room, coming up behind her. “I figure you won’t be free to go as often, so I wanted to give you a piece of it to keep here.” He wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on her shoulder as they stared at the painting.
“Mom’s there. I’ll always find a way to go.” The Grove was a handy excuse, and she loathed the day she’d have to reveal its existence to the others. The cliffs had been their secret place for so long, she was reluctant to give it up. This painting he’d done managed to capture that sanctity, that feeling that it was them against the world. Even once that changed, this piece would remind her of what it had been.
“I’m sorry I didn’t include her. I’ve been working on this for a while, since before... well. You know.”
She turned to look up at him. “But, why?”
He gave her a sheepish grin. “It was supposed to be a present for the day you took your vows. And,” he blushed, looking away, “there’s a message on the back.”
She raised an eyebrow, now insanely curious. “Are you going to tell me, or do I have to take it down and look?”
Jasper looked away with an embarrassed chuckle. “It... ah, well, I was going to use that to ask you to consider me for your First Rites.”
She stood up on her tip toes to kiss him on the cheek. “I was stupid to think I needed anyone else.”
His brown eyes seemed to melt and he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.
A heavy knock sounded on the door to the main quarters and Brana stepped away, clearing her throat. “I guess duty never waits.”
If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it. He motioned for her to go first and followed her out, closing doors behind them.
“Enter,” Brana called when she’d left her private quarters, Pebble trotting at her heels.
One of the Ravens that worked in the rookery came in and saluted. “Message for you, First.”
That’s going to take some getting used to. She glanced back at Jasper, who gave her an encouraging smile. “All right, then. Bring it here?” She hadn’t lit many torches yet, and turned to the lantern above the table, drawing one of the long matches to light it. She took the bit of parchment without much thought. “Will you wait in case I have a reply?”
The Raven blanched. “Ma’am?”
Oh, right, they read all the messages in advance. How silly of me. That meant that whatever this message was, it was important. It’s my first message. I’m just anxious for no reason. She unfurled the parchment and frowned, re-reading it again.
Jasper pushed off the wall and came toward her. “What’s it say?”
Brana hesitated, but the Raven already knew what it said. She read the words off to him, hoping they made more sense to him than they did to her. “To she who would call herself First above others, I entreat you: go to the river, and see my gift to you.”
Jasper frowned. “Is it signed?”
She shook her head. “No. That’s all it says.” She handed him the slip, his heavy eyebrows furrowing.
“I don’t like this. It sounds like a threat.”
“So, I should... show your dad, then? See what he thinks?” Of all the things she expected her first challenge as the Order’s leader to be, this wasn’t it.
“At least. Hang on, I don’t think he left yet.” Jasper phased out of the room, leaving Brana and the very silent Raven.
“Did any of our birds bring this letter?” She should at least try and find its origin, right?
“No, Lady Brana. The bird arrived during the vote, and was dead before the feast.”
Why would the bird die? Some kind of slow poison? Whoever this message was from, she didn’t like it.
Jasper came walking in, his father on his heels.
“What’s this message you have?” His green eyes were bright, his posture alert but not alarmed.
She handed over the parchment and waited while he read it. Jasper waited silently at her side, watching his father.
“There’s not much to go on, is there?” Ace frowned, but didn’t release the paper.
“Could it be a prank?” Jasper didn’t sound very sure of that option, more like he was voicing it just to cover all their bases.
“It could be, but I don’t find it very funny.” Ace stared at the note for a while longer. “First, with your leave, I’ll take two squads to the river. If we find anything worth reporting, we’ll come back with it.”
“Oh.” Right. Too valuable to go myself. More changes that would take some getting used to. “Yes, that’s fine. It’s probably nothing, but please be safe.”
Ace gave her a faint smile. “You’re going to do fine, Brana. Just let us do what we’re good at.”
Ace turned and made his way to the door, Jasper following after a moment. “No, Jasper, stay here. I haven’t appointed anyone to the Tower’s security yet, and Brana hasn’t had time to make appointments for her security staff. Stay with her for now until we clear this up.”
Brana swallowed hard as Jasper stopped, hand dropping to the hilt of his sword. “Yes, Commander.”
Ace left and Jasper’s expression was serious as he turned to face her. “I’d feel a lot better with Zeche here tonight.”
Zeche? Why would he want that trickster here?
“He may not have been the kindest person to our families, but there’s no one better when it comes to protecting someone. I’m probably being over cautious, but...” he
trailed off, eyes flicking between all of the windows, all of the possible entry points to her chambers.
“If it makes you feel better, then call for the Watchers. I think I saw them at dinner.”
The minutes stretched into hours, and still no word from Ace. Brana had tried to stay awake, but after she fell asleep in her chair for the second time, she followed Jasper’s advice to get some sleep. He promised they’d wake her as soon as they knew something.
Words in deep, heavy voices finally stirred her awake. The sky lights showed a sky that was just beginning to lighten. It’s nearly dawn. She stretched, stifling a yawn.
“It took the sun coming up before we finally saw it.”
Saw it? Saw what? She walked to her door, hoping to hear them better.
“Is the area secure?” That tenor voice belonged to Jasper.
Night gown or not, she was going out there. “What’s going on?”
Several pairs of eyes swiveled in her direction. Ace, Amelina, Rowan, Zeche, and Jasper had all been conferring over her dining table. None of them said a word.
“Well? What is it? What’s happened?” Because something certainly had happened, judging by the severe expressions on their faces.
Ace glanced at Jasper. “The area is secure, if you’d like to see for yourself.”
It can’t be that bad. It can’t. This is my first day on the job. Why won’t they just tell me? She glanced at Jasper, who gave her a subtle nod. Right. She disappeared into her chambers and dressed as quickly as possible. Something told her to eschew the soft shoes they wore around the tower, and instead she put on her leather boots that rose to just below her knee. She nearly forgot her lily pin as she rushed about, throwing her hair in a sloppy bun. She emerged a few minutes later, ready.
Ace turned to Rowan. “We phase out, then activate the electromagnets. I don’t want to take any chances, and they’re to remain on until there’s a joint order from both Brana and myself to disable them. Understood?”
Rowan gave a curt nod and moved off to speak with Zeche.
The foreboding that had taken up residence in the pit of her stomach only grew. There had only been one other time in her memory that the anti-phasing methods had been enabled, and that had turned out to be a false alarm. Whatever had happened, it was worse than anything her mother had dealt with. Jasper walked over and offered her his elbow. She threaded her arm through, feeling like she wanted to hold onto him for dear life.
The first thing she noticed as they came out of the phase was the smell. It smelled like a mixture of something dead and a trash heap. She pinched her nose closed and looked around. Men in Seeker black stood along both banks of the river, grim expressions on their faces.
“Oh my god.” She stood completely still for a moment before rushing to the river and kneeling on the bank. She dipped her hand into what should have been water, but was instead a murky purple liquid. It coated her hand like slime. She withdrew it from the flow and the liquid dripped off in slow, oozing clumps. The grass died immediately where it landed, shriveling up and turning black. No matter how far up or downstream she looked, it was the same. It was the taint made manifest for all to see.
With wide eyes, she turned to look at Ace and Amelina. “What do we do now?”
They looked at each other and then back at her, shaking their heads gently. There was nothing they could do, those faces said. This was a battle for the planet, and they were losing.
Also by Cait Ashwood
The Seekers
Order of the Lily
Look for The Watchers, the final book in the series, early 2018.
Acknowledgments
There are so many people to thank when it comes to writing a book. I truly feel that writing is a team sport. There’s me, but there’s also beta readers, accountability managers, editors, cover artists, proofreaders… in other words, a small army of people all slaving to make this book the best it can be.
This book was particularly challenging for me, juggling all of the various points of view needed to tell this story well. One of my beta readers is actually out of state caring for a family member, and they’ve still managed to help and answer random phone calls with no warning, because I want to know if Character X can do Action Y, and if that makes sense.
I’d like to thank my family, who have supported me as always. My parents beta-read my work, and I have the kind of parents that won’t pull punches. My husband, while never reading a word, will frequently march me into my office, push me gently into my chair, and lock me in. No, guys, it’s a baby gate, I swear. Please don’t call the cops. My office has no door. Honest. Although… I kind of want a door.
My accountability manager has been amazing. She took me to see John Green, which was a huge dose of motivation when I needed it the most. There are a few hidden scenes in the book inspired by her love (okay, obsession) with Assassin’s Creed, and her horrible carriage-driving skills.
My D&D group also has an honorable mention, because we have the notorious habit of creating ‘Urchin Networks’ in cities so we can get all the good scoops. I’m looking at you, Tommy.
And of course, there’s you, my dear reader. I do hope you’re not too cross with me after this title. Just know that for every tear you may have shed, I shed them about six or seven times while going through the manuscript.
What do we say to the god of death?
Not today.
About the Author
Fantasy and science fiction have been my lifeblood since I was too young to stay up and watch the complete episode of Star Trek: Voyager. I have several fandoms that I follow with varying amounts of rabid foaming, but it's all in good fun most of the time. If I had to pick a favorite, The Princess Bride is right at the top.
Aside from writing, I am also a classically trained violinist. I have a few students I teach weekly, and I really enjoy working with them. I also crochet, play D&D with friends, and, of course, read my little heart out. I have a small menagerie I manage with my husband here at home including three dogs, two cats, and six chickens.
Some of my favorite authors include J.R. Ward, R.A. Salvatore, Anne McCaffrey, Tad Williams, Mercedes Lackey, Jean Auel, and Sherwood Smith, to name a few.
www.caitashwood.com
