Illusion: Book Four of the Grimoire Saga

by S. M. Boyce

  A pang of annoyance bit into her stomach, interrupting her thoughts. She doubled over in pain, as if someone had punched her. A rush of agony and anger roared through her body.

  She was losing control.

  Kara wrapped the spiky leather guard around her wrist and cursed as the metal points dug into her skin. The annoyance subsided. The pain receded. Only the dull throb in her wrist remained as she regained control of her body.

  And the anger. That still burned in her chest.

  She glanced around, frowning. A few charred bodies lay on the floor. Piles of ash covered the stone tile, one of them at her feet.

  She kicked the pile with her boot. Ash billowed in a small cloud, hovering a foot off the floor. She looked around at the audience seats. Dozens of faces gaped at her from the stands and from the edges of the arena, where her attackers had retreated.

  Dozens of questions bubbled in her mind, but she couldn’t get her answers in the middle of an arena.

  She stared at her wrist, but addressed the spectators. “Those in Rupert’s family are forbidden to join us. Those intelligent enough to see a good offer can leave with me. Those who stay behind won’t have another chance. But if you join, it’s binding. I will personally rip the head off anyone who breaks the code I laid out today.”

  She turned toward the exits, done. No more fighting. She’d proven herself. Anyone who was still unconvinced didn’t deserve her time. She walked through a pile of ash on her way, dispersing the soot with her boots.

  Kara ripped open the doors. They slammed against the wall with a bang that echoed through the stadium.

  She stormed into the empty hallway. Darkness swallowed the sunlight streaming from behind her as she hurried through the unlit hallway. She had no direction, no intention. She just needed to get away.

  Footsteps tapped against the hardwood. She froze, a jolt of panic rooting her in place. The hairs on her neck stood at attention. She tensed and spun, ready to take out whomever followed her.

  Stone stood in the hallway, his hands behind his back. He lifted his chin. “Where are you going?”

  She sighed and turned from him with no intent to answer.

  “Kara, in here,” Stone said.

  He disappeared through an archway in the hall. She huffed and followed, her heart still racing as she tried to regain control.

  She rounded the corner into a room lined with bookshelves and almost ran into him. He grabbed her face, one hand on each side of her head. She twisted away, but his grip held firm. Her body stilled on its own—likely a silent command from the master who could control her. Anger pooled in her gut.

  “Calm down,” he said, voice soft.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, his hands still holding her face. Her heart slowed. Sleep pulled at her eyes. Dull aches throbbed in her shoulders, her legs, her arms. She wished she could fall asleep standing up.

  “We will leave tomorrow morning. You should rest.”

  She nodded, eyes still closed.

  His hands disappeared from her face. Cool air rushed across her cheeks. Her eyes inched open, but she stared at the floor. She didn’t want to look at anyone. Her eyes stung with exhaustion.

  “You healed yourself,” he said.

  She nodded. “How?”

  He hesitated. “I don’t know for certain, but it seems you healed much like the Bloods do. You can likely focus an intense amount of energy on a single spot, just as they can. But it’s only a guess.”

  She grimaced. “Are you going to study me to figure it out?”

  “Maybe later. For now, you should sleep. I can give you an herbal remedy to keep the nightmares away.”

  She frowned. “How—?”

  “You kept screaming at the inn. Don’t think anyone got much sleep that night.”

  Her shoulders sagged. She just nodded.

  Sunlight poured through two tall windows on the wall behind Stone, illuminating the library’s two brown sofas. An espresso-brown coffee table covered in open books filled much of the remaining space in the small room. Four floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled the walls, their shelves filled with a colorful collection of spines. Any other day, Kara would have scanned the books, but her eyes ached. A red-hot pain coursed behind her eyeballs. She rubbed her face.

  Stone walked to the far corner and knelt. His arm snaked behind the first row of books and pulled out an ancient volume, its leather cover worn and ripped.

  “What’s that?” Kara asked.

  Stone shook his head, but smiled. He traced his finger along the spine. “A memory.”

  She nodded. She didn’t care enough to press him.

  He slipped the book under his arm and pointed toward the hall. “Time for bed. Get moving.”

  Kara let him lead her out of the library, her feet following his as he trailed up a crooked staircase. She kept her eyes downcast, the sleepless nights since her battle with Carden finally taking their toll.

  Chapter 9

  New Recruits

  After the herbal remedy Stone gave her, Kara fell asleep in seconds. Whatever he made gave her deep sleep with no dreams, just a blissful spell that relaxed the aches in her neck and face. She would have to ask for the recipe.

  Her eyelids fluttered as she woke, blinking to clear away the groggy stain of a heavy slumber. A simple room came into focus, nothing but brown boards and a pale dresser by the door. A window above the bed let in a stream of light, its black curtains pulled aside. Specks of dust hovered in the sunbeams, unmoving as Kara came to. She stretched, relishing the rush of pleasure as her muscles released the night’s tension. Her body bent, cracking a little with the stretch but didn’t ache at all.

  No use waiting—leaving the guild would be the highlight of her day. She stood, the thin blanket sliding onto the floor, and reached for the doorknob. It creaked in her palm as she twisted it, but the door swung open without a sound. An empty hallway awaited her, the wooden planks of its floors and walls identical to those in her bedroom. No decor. No accents. Just wood and nails.

  Silence weighed on the air. A shiver ran along her arms. No voices trickled through the walls; no floorboards creaked. Kara hesitated at the threshold, entertaining the thought that they’d left without her.

  She crept down the hallway on the balls of her feet, neck prickling with worry as she inched her way closer to the staircase. A man laughed, his voice muffled. She inched closer. Another man spoke, his words running together such that she couldn’t make them out. More voices broke through the quiet the closer she came to the staircase. She kept along the wall and tensed, ready to peer around the corner in hopes of hearing clearer words before someone saw her.

  Relax, the Vagabond said in her mind.

  She nodded, but trying to wish away the tension didn’t quell a rush of fear. Something had triggered her inner need to fight.

  A woman said her name above the din.

  Anxiety bubbled in her toes. She wanted to relax, sure. She wanted to believe the fight ended yesterday, that she’d made her point and the battle with the isen was over. But her senses raged, on full alert.

  “Kara!” a man’s voice yelled up the stairs.

  She flinched.

  “Are you going to sleep forever?” the voice asked again.

  A twinge of recognition cleared away her nerves. “Stone?”

  “Are you—”

  Stone’s head peeked around the corner of the staircase.

  He frowned. “Child, what are you doing?”

  She shrugged and tried to loosen her stance, but her body wouldn’t relax. Another wave of anxiety festered in her gut, settling into her shoulders with a weight that made her want to go back to bed.

  Stone sighed and started up the stairs toward her.

  “I understand why you’re nervous,” he said.

  “What’s going on down there?” she asked.

  “Preparations. Lots of compliments about your power. Nothing sinister.”

  She rubbed her arms. “Then
why am I on edge?”

  “Side effects of the remedy, sleep deprivation, stress from the impending battle, a dozen other fears piled together in the back of your mind. I’d be surprised if you weren’t.”

  “How long was I sleeping?”

  “About eleven hours.”

  She laughed. “Then I’m no longer sleep deprived.”

  He grumbled. “That’s not how sleep works.”

  She rubbed her eyes. “When do we leave?”

  “As soon as you’re ready.”

  She nodded. “Let’s go, then.”

  It took another two hours and some threats to leave folks behind, but Kara’s newly formed team of ten thousand isen eventually left the guild and began its march toward Ayavel. Ten thousand—she almost couldn’t believe it. Apparently, Niccoli’s guild included over a hundred clearings like the one she’d seen, and many isen had taken refuge away from the manor house for safety.

  Kara led the foot soldiers, taking the front line alongside Stone and the other isen elders. An isen in the rear of the company led Stone’s horse, since Kara hadn’t wanted him to get too far ahead. She needed someone close to field any questions to which she didn’t have answers. Stone begrudgingly agreed but hadn’t spoken to her since.

  They left early enough that they would make it to the castle gates around the time the sun set in Ayavel, their troop taking back roads in an attempt to remain unseen. She could only imagine how overpowering the isen scent must be to others, what with an army passing by. She didn’t want any wars starting on their way to end the current one.

  Stone walked to her left, Andor and several other elder children to her right. They led the troops in silence, but laughter and voices bubbled up from behind them. Kara often found herself looking over her shoulder, studying the isen as they entertained themselves on their long journey.

  A man laughed, his voice carrying over the forest path. Kara twisted around, walking backward for a few steps in an effort to see what was so funny. One isen—the amused man—ducked a punch from another. A small group of isen nearby started laughing, too, hands to their faces as they chuckled. The first man ran off into the woods, the second close on his heels.

  “Is something the matter, Vagabond?” Andor asked.

  Kara shook her head. “What was all that about?”

  Andor shrugged. “They play jokes on each other. It keeps eternal life interesting.”

  “You all don’t strike me as pranksters.”

  Andor frowned. “What?”

  “Pranksters. You play jokes on each other. Everything I’ve heard of isen is so serious and deadly.”

  Andor nodded. “When all you hear are rumors and lies, it’s easy to confuse the true nature of a race.”

  “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “You didn’t. I was merely showing you I understood why you believed such things. An isen family protects its members. Once you’re turned, you will always have someone watching your back. You will always have someone to avenge you.”

  Kara whistled. “What if some of your children don’t like each other?”

  “I haven’t had such a problem yet, thankfully. I think the kinship helps my isen overlook petty differences.”

  “Or perhaps you’re out of touch,” Stone said.

  Andor ignored the jibe. “Kara, I can’t possibly blame you for not knowing our ways. You haven’t experienced much of isen life. Stone isn’t the best teacher when it comes to loyalty or family.”

  Stone frowned. “I didn’t have the best of role models. There was never loyalty between Niccoli’s elder children. He set us against each other to keep us in line.”

  “He is an exception, yes,” Andor said with a nod.

  Stone huffed but didn’t reply.

  A few moments of quiet trickled by, filled with the hum of chatter behind her.

  Andor laughed. “I gave Stone his name. Did you know that?”

  Kara shook her head.

  “What’s his real name?” she asked.

  “I don’t even remember,” Andor said.

  “I didn’t like it anyway,” Stone muttered.

  “What was it?” Kara prodded again.

  “Not important,” Stone answered.

  Kara shook her head. Maybe she could pry it out of him later.

  Andor cleared his throat. “Stone, I trust you have a solution as to how to brand those of us loyal to your allies?”

  Stone nodded. “Each tattoo must be manually added to every isen. If you want to protect isen turned after the war, you must add the tattoo yourself. I will teach you how to draw the symbol we’ll be using.”

  “Why a tattoo?” Andor asked.

  “It’s a lifelong commitment, one which can’t be broken. Thus, we chose something not easily removed.”

  “What will it be?”

  “An eye above the barb on your right arm.”

  “Ah, so it has dual use.”

  “What do you mean?” Kara asked.

  Andor frowned, and a flicker of doubt rose in Kara’s gut. She shouldn’t have said anything. She had to appear to be the one spearheading everything, even when she had no clue what was going on.

  Stone answered without emotion. “It’s a reminder to watch what you do with your barb, as misuse will have dire consequences. I assume you recall the promise you made to anyone who violates the pact.”

  Right. She was supposed to rip off their heads. She suppressed a shudder—she might have gotten carried away, what with all the magic and adrenaline pumping through her in the arena.

  Another round of laughter cut through the air. Kara turned in time to catch a woman waving her hand, apparently telling a joke or story. The isen nearby waited, eyes on her as they walked. She finished and spread her hands open, apparently at the punch line. The group roared with laughter.

  It seemed like Kara was missing all the fun.

  She returned her focus to the path ahead, but her eyes slipped out of focus. These isen were closer than most families she’d seen in life. They laughed together, fought together, and—if Andor was right—protected each other without question.

  Stone once said she was like a daughter to him, but she didn’t think of him as a father. He was more of a mentor who hit her with things to get his point across. Her father’s soul was trapped in Deidre’s body, and letting anyone take his place seemed like treason to his memory. A wave of anger burned through her veins. Her hands balled into fists, and her gaze shifted to her feet. She needed to keep it together. She would get her revenge on Deidre someday, but focusing on the hatred would unravel everything she’d built thus far.

  A twinge of loss crept through the anger. Both Mom and Dad were gone, lost to Ourea’s monsters in some form or another. She sighed. Braeden was her only family in the world. He loved her. Cherished her. He would protect her without question, give her laughter and joy for as long as they lived. A desire rushed through her arms, a panic of sorts she couldn’t express. She wanted to show him what that meant to her—but how?

  She racked her brain for several minutes, thinking back on their conversations as Stone led the way through the forest path.

  After a few moments of no progress, her mind wandered to their destination—Ayavel. The beautiful landscape of the Ayavelian kingdom held within it the sinister royalty that hated drenowith and incited betrayal. Kara shivered. She hoped leading her newfound friends into the Ayavelian gates wasn’t a mistake. With a shudder, she wondered what Aislynn would have done if she saw ten thousand isen marching toward her door along the tree-filled path to the front gates.

  An idea hit Kara so hard she stumbled. Delight simmered throughout her core. Andor asked her something, probably along the lines of whether or not she was okay, but she nodded and kept her eyes trained ahead.

  Trees—the sanguini seed Aislynn gave her at the Gala could monitor Kara’s bloodline. Her family. The sanguini trees in Ayavel had a blossom for each living Ayavelian with the Blood loyalty. When planted with a few drops
of her blood, who knew what Kara’s sanguini tree would bloom into—most likely, each little blossom on the tree would represent a living family member. If she planted it with Braeden’s blood as well, they might be able to use it to monitor their family as it grew. And since they couldn’t have a successful bond, perhaps this would bring him that joy instead.

  Her breath caught in her throat at the thought of expanding their family. It was too soon for that, but at least she figured out a way to show Braeden what he meant to her.

  She paused. This could backfire. Their tree might have a blossom for each Stelian instead. Braeden would be Blood, after all. It was a risk, but it didn’t seem to be how the tree worked. Aislynn’s trees might be for show—in all likelihood, the blood of her descendants was mixed in with the population over thousands of generations, and the trees had nothing at all to do with Blood loyalties.

  It didn’t matter. She wanted to at least try.

  She carried on, leading an army of isen to Ayavel’s lichgate. Evelyn would hate this. She would probably do something rash, something stupid, but Kara could only wait and see what happened. There would be a moment or two of peace before the final battle, and she could only hope Evelyn behaved long enough to let her enjoy it.

  Braeden bolted down the hallway nearest to the throne room. He needed to find Frine, and fast.

  A vagabond left an anonymous note on his office desk—Evelyn planned to meet the isen before they reached the castle and turn them away without the Bloods’ consent. If true, she could ruin a much-needed alliance, or worse—send these possible allies flocking to Carden out of spite.

  Braeden picked up the pace.

  He reached a closed door not far from the throne room, his feet skidding along the slick tile as he came to a halt. He rammed his fist against it, taking out his pent-up frustration in three thundering knocks against the wood.