A Sword of Chance

by Bella Forrest

  “Did you find the kidnapper?” I asked, eager to get the conversation back onto safer ground. I had no idea what had just happened, but I firmly shoved it to the back of my mind, hoping it would stay under lock and key.

  “I did,” he replied shortly.

  “And?” I questioned after a pause, confused as to why he wasn’t being more forthcoming.

  “I think other sentries must be looking for humans—perhaps word of your superior mind quality has spread among the kingdoms,” he mused distractedly, lost in his own thoughts.

  I stared at him in disbelief. A moment ago he had been full of vengeance, determined to get to the bottom of who attacked me. Now he was hedging. What had he seen that I wasn’t understanding? And what was he trying to avoid telling me? It seemed hugely unfair that I’d gone to all the effort of allowing him into my memories, only to have him turn around and keep his discoveries a secret.

  “I should have locked the door,” he said abruptly, turning toward me.

  “What?” I questioned, confused. “I thought you had?”

  “No.”

  I was astonished. I had genuinely assumed that I was being kept prisoner in his quarters—locked away so that I couldn’t attempt an escape and avoid the second trial.

  He looked quizzically at me.

  “You gave me your word,” he replied sternly, “that you’d stay and help me. That was the condition on which I let your friends and brother leave. I trust you to keep your end of the agreement.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that.

  “Going forward,” he continued, “we must never be separated—clearly it is not safe for you here. As long as we are together, you’ll be safe.”

  He subconsciously tapped the handle of his sword, and I looked down at its long sheath and the gleaming metal and polished wood of the hilt.

  He groaned and added, “Which means you’ll be coming to dinner.”

  By his tone I gathered this was a more public affair than our breakfast had been—and that Tejus was dreading it almost as much as I was.

  Great. More sentries.

  We both sighed in unison.

  Ruby

  Hours had passed, and we hadn’t moved from the dank cellar that Jenus had left us in, with no toilet, no food, and worst of all, no water.

  We had made do as best we could, each of us relieving ourselves in the corner of the hole and then covering it with hay. We had reasoned that the smell in here was bad enough anyway, and the stench of old manure covered our human smells.

  At this point I couldn’t really imagine things getting much worse.

  The only highlight that had interrupted our despair was when I’d managed to ease out a rock from the stone walls. It was sharp, but in reality it was an insignificant weapon in the face of what Jenus was capable of doing to us.

  I looked glumly around the room. I was seated next to Benedict, who had curled up in a corner and pretended to sleep. He had tried to hide it, but I could feel his body shudder as he cried. I rubbed his back, trying to offer some small murmurs of comfort.

  It was Julian who was actually worrying me more. He looked incredibly pale, and hadn’t said much since Jenus left. I wondered if this time it had been one mind probe too many, or if he’d been hit too hard on the head when we were thrown into the cellar.

  I felt that, as the oldest, I was the one who should have offered hope and encouragement—but I had nothing to give, and anytime I did try to say something, it sounded hollow and forced.

  For a while now I had been listening as best I could to the noises outside, trying to get a better idea of where we might be—any sign of the world outside which might have been able to help us. I could barely hear a thing through the thick doors and stone, but every so often the noise of a passing carriage could be heard in the distance—but they were always too far away to be of any use.

  A short while later I heard the sounds of horses’ hooves on a hard dirt track, but it was coming from miles away. I desperately wished that it would come closer; close enough that whoever was driving it could hear my cries for help.

  My ears pricked up.

  I didn’t know if it was my hopeful imagination or not, but I could have sworn I heard the clip-clopping of the horses getting steadily louder.

  It is!

  Even Julian roused from his sickly-pale stupor and looked toward me with a querying expression.

  I jumped to my feet. I could now distinctly hear that the carriage was coming closer and closer. Soon it was close enough that I could hear the deep panting of the horses and the creaks of the carriage wheels as they slowed.

  Picking up the rock, I rushed toward the west-facing wall where the sound seemed to be coming from.

  “HELP!” I pounded on the wall with the rock, not caring who the passer-by might be—I was desperate, and if there was a chance that it was anyone but Jenus, then the risk was worth it.

  “HELP US—PLEASE!” I yelled as loud as I could, my throat rasping with pain and my eardrums aching at the effort.

  The carriage stopped. I waited with bated breath as I heard someone give a short grunt of effort as they landed with a thud on the ground, and then the sounds of heavy footsteps as they approached the cellar door.

  A knock rapped, echoing throughout the hole.

  “Who’s down there?” an impatient masculine voice called out.

  “Let us out!” I cried, practically weeping with relief that we’d finally managed to get someone’s attention.

  There was a pause, and the lock on the door wriggled.

  “It’s locked,” came the reply. “I can’t—who locked you in?”

  I looked over at Benedict and Julian. They were both staring at the door, eyes wide and hopeful.

  I wanted to lie, to avoid mentioning Jenus’s name, as I had no idea what kind of sway he held over the people of Nevertide, but I imagined it was significant considering his royal standing.

  “Who locked you in?” The voice came again, more impatient this time.

  I realized that I couldn’t lie. None of us knew nearly enough about the kingdoms, the sentries or the land to make our response convincing.

  Thinking quickly, I replied, “Jenus—but he’s working against the emperor’s orders. We were to be sent home and instead he brought us here.”

  Close enough to the truth, I thought.

  “Jenus?” the voice barked in astonishment. “Why’d he lock you up in here? He’s got dungeons aplenty in Hellswan castle—why would he keep you out here on one of the Hellswan farms? In an old root cellar, no less?”

  I hesitated. The voice was growing suspicious.

  “We were prisoners in the castle, but we were supposed to be freed. Well, we were—but then Jenus abducted us and brought us here!”

  “Yeah? How many of you?” The voice called back.

  “Three—three of us,” I replied.

  There was a pause. I heard him sigh from behind the door.

  “Sorry, lady. I’m not buying it. Sounds pretty far-fetched to me.”

  Far-fetched?

  The truth was even stranger. I heard him stomp from one foot to the other, the sounds of a man eager to get out of here and pretend he’d never spoken to us.

  “Wait! Okay, listen—we’re humans.” I hesitated before continuing, not sure if the truth would get us left behind or saved. “We were taken from Earth to help the Hellswan brothers in the trials. We did our part, and the emperor agreed to let us go. I promise you, all we want is to get out of here and go home—and we would be home, if it wasn’t for Jenus. We don’t even belong in this dimension!”

  The shuffling of the feet had stopped as I’d made my brief explanation of events, but I heard no other sound. I didn’t dare look at the boys behind me, terrified that my words had destroyed our only hope and scared the man away.

  The seconds trickled by.

  “Are you there?” I called out.

  “I’m thinking,” he replied shortly.

  I let out
a sigh of relief, and waited more patiently for him to respond. It took a while—the entire time I could feel perspiration beading at my back as I hoped against hope that he would help us.

  “All right. I’ll come back for you. I can’t free you now, there’s nothing in this world worth Jenus’s wrath—I’ll have to make sure that Hellswan brute is good and distracted before I return. It’s the best I can do.”

  His reply was a relief, but the idea of waiting panicked me.

  “We have no food or water—we can’t last much longer!” I cried.

  “I’ll come soon,” the voice promised, “as soon as I can.”

  “Thank you!” I called out, but as I did so I heard the heavy footsteps of his departure, and the sound of the horses whickering as their master returned to them.

  Soon the sound of his carriage was a low rumble in the distance, and once again we were left alone.

  It was the thinnest of chances—relying on an unknown stranger to rescue us, one who had already departed and whom we had no way of knowing would ever return.

  Exhausted from my rush of energy, I went to sit back down next to Benedict. He was no longer curled up in the corner, but sitting with his back against the wall, his eyes dry. A ghost of color had returned to Julian’s cheeks and he managed a small, lopsided smile in my direction.

  Our chance of escape might have been fragile at best, but it was something—a small sliver of hope in the dank, repugnant cellar.

  All we could do now was wait.

  Hazel

  After I’d recovered from the weird scenario with Tejus and we were finally able to make eye contact with one another, I was sent to yet another room within his living quarters to have a bath.

  Tejus insisted that he stand outside the room, while another brown-cloaked female servant prepared steaming hot water in a large metal basin, easily big enough for four people to lie comfortably in. Being immersed in hot, clean water and finally able to scrub myself clean went a long way toward cheering me up.

  When I was finished, the same servant brought me a high-collared silk dress—not dissimilar to the sleeping robe I’d found myself wearing after the trials, but this was a deep burgundy color and slightly grander-looking. It was another unexpected upside to my day.

  My good mood didn’t last long.

  All too soon Tejus was escorting me down to the main area of the castle, and into a magnificent dining hall—larger than any single room I’d ever seen, with low-hung chandeliers casting a golden glow over the long dining table, and the gray stone walls decorated with more vulture heads, this time cast in gold and silver.

  Despite all the room’s elaborate decoration, the food was back to its uninspiring brown sludge, with hard, stodgy bread and some other glutinous preparation that turned my stomach.

  I glanced around at the dining sentries—I calculated about fifty in total. They all wore some badge or insignia on their robes to indicate their nobility, but no one had bothered to introduce themselves. I watched to see if they had any issues with the food, but they seemed quite happy with their lot, and dug in while muttering to one another in low voices. I recalled what Tejus had told me when I first arrived in Nevertide:

  “Unlike humans, we possess heightened strength and speed, and our stamina is not derived from the food we put in our stomachs. We sustain our powers by feeding off mental energy… much like vampires feed off blood, I suppose.”

  Perhaps that was why they didn’t put much thought into the food.

  Tejus sat next to me. He didn’t look at me or speak to me as the meal progressed from one lackluster course to the next.

  I could see Jenus at the opposite end of the table. He looked as dark and imposing as he always did—his cloak seemed to be blacker than everyone else’s, and his face so gaunt that in the flickering light of the candles it looked more like a talking skull.

  He sat beside his father, the emperor. Every so often the two of them would look down the table at Tejus and me and continue a low, muttering conversation.

  It was all starting to give me the creeps. At one point during the meal I had accidentally caught Jenus’s glare—it was a mistake. His eyes seemed to burn into mine, and I felt cold all over. I quickly looked away, leaning back so that Tejus blocked his view of me.

  I reminded myself that Jenus was out of the running. Even if Tejus lost this trial, I still wouldn’t fall prey to that monster.

  I sighed, and poked at the gruel on my plate.

  It seemed like years ago that I’d been on the GASP helicopter, making our way to the Scottish island of Murkbeech, lost in a romance novel on my e-reader. The latest one had been about a jock who’d fallen in love with a plain, homely girl—a total cliché, but a good one. I felt like my romance had gone awry. My budding crush on Wes had been ruined by the sentries, and now it felt like I was at an awkward family dinner, meeting my boyfriend’s disapproving parents for the first time, but a million times worse because I had no actual boyfriend to make it worth my while.

  Tejus stood up from the table, giving me a pointed look to stay put, and then walked off and out of the main banquet hall, disappearing through an arched doorway. I assumed he’d gone to the bathroom, but I really wished he hadn’t left me alone.

  The murmurs and whispered conversations of the sentries around me got perceptibly louder as he left, and though I still couldn’t make out anything that was being said, I got the uncomfortable feeling that most of their conversations were about me.

  I glared down at my plate, fixated on the gruel, which was looking less and less appetizing. My stomach growled with hunger, and I flushed red—hoping that no one heard it.

  Before Tejus could return, I heard the squeaking and grinding of chairs being pulled away from the table. I looked up and saw all the sentries rising to their feet and leaving the banquet hall through a large, columned thoroughfare at the far end of the room.

  Not wanting to follow them or be left sitting at the table, I rose hastily and scurried toward the arched doorway that Tejus had exited from.

  I paused at the entrance—it led to a long, gloomy-looking corridor. There was a faint light at the far end, and I hoped that it would lead me to Tejus. Steeling myself against the flutter of anxiety in my chest, I continued my journey. I had only managed to take a couple of steps before I heard the sound of brisk footsteps behind me.

  I spun around, and my eyes rested on a black cloak and the shadowy figure of Jenus. Before I could call out, he shoved me under another archway off the corridor—even more dimly lit than the one before it.

  “Scream, and it’s your brother’s life,” he hissed into my ear.

  I froze at his words, an icy dread rippling down my spine.

  “Look familiar?” he asked, pulling out Benedict’s pocket watch and dangling it from between his bony fingers.

  Of course it did. It made me sick to see it. The battered knock-off Rolex that Benedict had bought in Hawaii. To see it clasped in Jenus’s hand made me want to tear out his black, glinting eyes.

  “Your friends met with an unhappy accident as they attempted to leave Hellswan. They’re in my hands now—alive, at the moment. How long they continue to stay that way depends very much on you.”

  His voice was a soft hiss, the words dripping out of his mouth like venom.

  “I’ll—I’ll do anything,” I whispered, “anything.”

  He gave me a shark-like smile. “I thought you might say as much. I want you to kill Tejus. Tonight. It will ensure that I become the Hellswan champion.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but he interrupted, “That’s not all. I want you to then remain with me—to be by my side during the rest of the trials.”

  Kill Tejus? Is he mad?

  “How do you expect me to kill him? It’s impossible! He’s twice my size!” My voice came out in a high-pitched squeak of panic. His request was ludicrous—how on earth did he expect me to accomplish such a thing?

  “Is it?” he mused. “I hardly think so. You see
med quite capable of killing me in the last trial. I don’t believe this task is beyond you. If you desire it badly enough.”

  He dangled the wrist watch as if to emphasize his point.

  I didn’t need the reminder.

  “Then would you mind telling me how I might do it?” I asked, furiously.

  He shrugged insolently. “That is up to you. You’re a smart thing—for a human. I’m sure you’ll work something out.”

  I wanted to tear at him, to claw my fingers down his bony, half-dead face. He had me in a corner—the task ahead impossible, and my brother’s and friends’ lives hanging in the balance.

  “Do remember”—he smirked down at me, evidently enjoying my discomfort—“that if anything should go wrong, anything at all, it’s your friends’ lives at stake.”

  I glared at him with a mutinous expression.

  “The deed must be done before tomorrow morning, or I shall return with proof of your brother’s untimely demise. Oh, and please don’t think of running off and telling Tejus – things will end very badly for all concerned.”

  Before I could utter another word, he shoved me back into the main corridor and walked in the other direction, his black cloak whipping the air behind him.

  A split second later, Tejus marched toward me, apparently furious.

  “Why did you leave the table?” he demanded. “I told you that you weren’t safe on your own. Do not disobey me again.”

  I nodded, too dumbstruck to offer a response—and certainly too preoccupied to even consider being affronted by his rude tone.

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  He frowned at me for a moment, then with a short huff he strode back down the corridor to the main banquet hall, and I meekly followed him.

  As I watched his broad shoulders and his towering height as he marched ahead of me, his steps so sure and confident, I wondered how I was ever going to manage to kill him.

  Hazel

  After finding me in the corridor, Tejus took me back to his living quarters.

  The sun was setting over the ashen mountains in the distance, coating the navy-blue sky with pinks and golds. There was only a sliver of sunlight left, and it was disappearing so fast that I thought I could see it move, inch by inch, down behind the peaks.