The Castrofax (Book 1)

by Jenna Van Vleet

  “I am not broken,” he replied defiantly.

  “So I noticed.”

  “Who sent you?”

  “Dear boy, if I give you all my secrets, it would leave me more vulnerable than you.” She leaned forward and snatched his hand. She looked at the copper wristlet, turning his hand over in hers, not making contact with the metal. Her face was sad when she handed it back moments later. “I am not the only one. I have three companions. We will begin by dominating your evenings. I have one girl buried in the library here looking for anything on Castrofax, and the other two are scouting the other Arconians to see who should be…restrained. You should prepare yourself should one slip through our grasp. There are a few among them who would give both their hands to bear a Class Ten’s child, and they will use any measure of force to get it.”

  “I can fight them off,” he said and stared into the flames.

  “Not without your Elements,” she said and touched a hand to his knee. Arconians always made physical contact in conversations. It was so rare for Anatolians to touch, and he almost pushed her hand away before remembering their culture. “Should we fail, you need to accept they will come for you.”

  “I’ll hide,” he muttered before remembering he never hid from anything. “Or drug them.”

  She nodded. “Is it true what they say about the stars falling? I’ve heard you called everything from Star Breaker to Bringer of Stars.”

  He met her eyes. “That much is true, though it was only beads of light in the pattern of the heavens, not actual stars.”

  She patted his knee. “Your trick is safe with me.”

  “So, Mikelle, what is your plan?”

  “I am going to sleep on one half of the bed, you the other. Should anyone disrupt us in the night, as I could see the Prince doing, it will not look suspicious. When I wake in the morning, I’ll limp a little and speak such marvels of the evening to Nolen, but I will whisper to the girls that you are cruel and dark hearted, and no one should have to endure what I had.”

  He considered this for a moment. It was easy to ruin the gentle reputation he had. “Why did Nolen send for you Arconians?”

  “He and his companion suspected you were still pure.”

  Gabriel clenched his jaw. “He wants to take everything from me. Wait—who was he with?”

  “A shorter man who spoke strangely. Called himself the Warden of Gray.”

  Gabriel frowned. “When did this all happen? How did you get here?”

  “The Warden transported us here in a minutes using some strange black pattern. He told us to close our eyes, but I opened mine halfway, and the world was nothing but black and white.”

  “A black pattern? I think Void uses black patterns.” He stood suddenly. “Ryker. I knew it. It explains how quickly you arrived here.”

  “Does it?”

  “Ryker knows patterns we lost to the Ages. Why should one of them not be a traveling pattern?”

  She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back. His sturdy stance pulled herself out of her seat, and she unwittingly unhinged his clothing. “Deal with it in the morning. You’ve got a woman to bed.”

  He gestured to the four-postered piece. “Bed. Shall I tuck you in, or can you manage?”

  “I would like a good night kiss and to watch you undress.”

  He gave her a glare and marched off to his washroom.

  “Oh come now!” she exclaimed. “Legends are based on facts.”

  He sighed and groomed himself for the evening, leaving the washroom wearing only a loose pair of sleeping trousers. He heard the woman give a deep sigh and felt her eyes on him as he rounded the bed. “I will have good stories,” she said just above a whisper.

  “Don’t touch me,” he warned and picked up a book. “I lash back.” He lay back in the pillows. “I’m not kissing you goodnight.”

  “Facts. Legends are based on them.” Mikelle leaned in, and Gabriel put a palm on her forehead pushing her away. She chuckled. “You and I are going to be fast friends, I can tell.”

  Chapter 25

  “May I at least have the permission to remind you this is folly?” General Calsifer asked, watching Robyn tack her horse. She was useless at it and the mare sidestepped just in time to avoid the saddle. “You, Tim, please saddle the lady’s horse.”

  “You do not have permission,” Robyn replied. “Though it seems you’ve taken it.”

  For two weeks he had been trying to persuade her to stay at the manor until her birth anniversary, but the Princess was stubborn to her toes and refused to listen. He reminded her that the plan may not work. Gabriel could already be broken, and she could be wounded or captured in the process.

  It had taken weeks to gather the necessary men for the job, and Talon had arrived the night before with the last two. There were twelve men in total, strong fighters with various skills in camouflage, healing, picking locks, escape, and evasion. Calsifer was their commander, and while only a few of them actually served for a military, they would suffice.

  He paid close attention to two brothers from Shalaban. They were skilled in hand-to-hand combat, but Calsifer did not notice them for their talent. Shalaban had been landing ships on Anatolian shores for years, smuggling families into the forests with promise of a better life. The Empire was ruled by a dynasty lasting well over 300 years. It had been driving the poor into deeper poverty and praised the rich for no other reason than being wealthy.

  Shalaban had already taken over the Myron Islands, and set up colonies in the Cinibarian coast. They were beginning to do the same on Anatoly’s shores. Queen Challis of Cinibar waged battles with them annually to drive them back, but after a decade-long war, she was bleeding men and resources. The shore towns were infested with the dark-haired, red-skinned people, and Queen Miranda saw no issue with them. Calsifer was not sure how Robyn felt, and she kept a mask of indifference when introduced to them. He would see them all driven into the ocean if it was his last act as General.

  The groom had Robyn’s horse saddled and bridled in moments as Robyn frowned at the animal. Talon walked by leading a white charger. “Your horse is ready,” he smirked at the General as his stallion brayed and kicked the door.

  “He senses excitement,” Calsifer muttered and went to Araybiatt. The stallion pricked his ears when he saw the General. “Do you not saddle yourself by now?” he asked as he let himself in and patted the stallion’s side. By the time Araybiatt was saddled and led from his stall, Robyn still sorted out the reins on her mare.

  “Could we not bypass Anatoly City and continue to Castle Jaden?” Calsifer asked one last time.

  “We will go there after we have Gabriel,” she replied and pulled her horse into the aisle. There would be no winning her over, Calsifer knew, but he made sure he did all he could to persuade her otherwise.

  She marched out of the stables into the courtyard with a sure stride to meet the rest. Of all the warriors Talon found, there was only one woman, a contortionist. Andolyn seemed to know her well, as both women talked in hushed tones over their horses.

  Calsifer gave Robyn a leg up before mounting Araybiatt. The destrier wheeled to face the group with only a touch to his ribs. “Anatoly City is a four day ride if we keep a good pace, and once we arrive, we will be staying at the Bramble Rose Inn.” He gathered his reigns. “I keep a low tolerance for disobedience and disrespect, and I have crippled and killed many men for mistreatment of women, so believe me when I say the three women on this journey will come to no harm. I will take no pause to use this,” he touched a hand to his sword hilt. “Do we have an accord?”

  The men nodded. Calsifer knew the bloodlust that came with a battle and knew many men who had taken women of conquered cities. Under his control, his armies knew women were not part of plunder, and while he believed Talon meant well, Calsifer did not know these men. With a satisfied nod, he spurred Araybiatt, and the stallion lifted his hooves and arched his neck proudly.

  Calsifer still thought this journey was
folly, but he would be damned if he did not serve the future Queen of Anatoly. It may have been love’s folly, but love was delicate, worth fighting for, and easily lost.

  Mikelle was already awake when Gabriel rose, brushing her hair in the washroom until it shone. Arconians dipped the ends of their locks in sweet smelling oils, and the room filled with the scent of oranges.

  “You toss in your sleep,” she said to his reflection in the large mirror. She wore a deep blue satin gown with cutouts around her shoulders. A cord made of solid sliver braiding sat around her waist, and a matching piece hung around one wrist. Gabriel could not imagine why anyone would want to wear jewelry around necks or wrists, and the idea made him shiver. The cold around his own limbs reminded him of his ever-present situation. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” She smiled coyly.

  The bed was big enough to easily fit three people, and at no point had Gabriel made contact with her. He forgot she was there until he woke. “Yep.” He said in the mirror, two hands rumpling his hair. The Castrofax were more pronounced against his bare skin. Mikelle stopped brushing her hair and cast a sympathetic eye on him.

  “Be free to change. I won’t look.”

  “It’s feel free,” he corrected. “And I don’t trust you.”

  She twirled half her hair up in a swirl of orange perfume and pinned it back. “You should. I am very trustworthy. I will keep all your secrets.” She turned to leave and planted the flat of her palm on his backside.

  He was halfway finished dressing in snug brown trousers and a cream shirt that laced up the chest and wrists when a knock rapped the main door. Gabriel gritted his teeth and tucked in his shirt before opening the door.

  A young man in a soldier’s uniform straightened. “His Grace, Mage Prince Nolen requests your immediate presence in the Willow Wine Salon.”

  “His Grace?” Gabriel screwed up his lips. “Wherever is that?”

  The soldier regarded him with an indignant look. “Two floors down, facing the internal courtyard.” He straightened. “I will wait.”

  Gabriel opened the door a little revealing Mikelle who sat by the window. She waggled her fingers at him. “I’m entertaining.”

  The soldier surprisingly gave him a smirk and winked. “I’ll cover for ya’ then, but the Prince don’t like to wait.”

  Gabriel scrabbled for a double-edged sentence. “I’ll finish up here.”

  The solider chuckled as he left. In the anteroom Gabriel could hear the sounds of breakfast being set out like it were every morning, and peeking his head out, he saw two servants quietly working. “Now’s the perfect time,” he said and quickly snatched a dark blue coat trimmed in brown suede. He fumbled with the diamond-shaped ebony buttons as Mikelle gathered a night bag and straightened the back of her hair.

  Gabriel took her by the elbow and pulled her into the anteroom. To his dismay, it was now occupied. His father and Aisling sat on the couches around the short table in the center of the room. Cordis put up a brow. “You dog,” he said in an amused tone. Aisling laid her eyes on Mikelle, and she stood quickly, knocking her plate to the floor. She fixed her eyes on Gabriel with such venom he could feel himself wither.

  He led Mikelle to the main doors and opened one for her. “I will be in touch,” she told him quietly in Arconian and swept out without a word.

  The door clicked in a hollow tone, and the room fell silent. He swallowed and turned to explain, but Aisling strode forward quickly, devouring the space between them in seconds. He did not realize she slapped him until the sound echoed in his ears. Her hand left a painful red print on his cheek.

  For a moment he was back in the dungeons. “Don’t hit me,” he snapped.

  “You dare,” she hissed and pointed a finger in his face. “How are you going to explain this to Robyn?”

  “Very easily,” he replied and put a hand on his face.

  “Do not get smart with me,” she snapped. “You know it is only proper for a Queen to marry a chaste man. She would refuse you, if she found out.”

  He put his hands up. “What does it matter to you? I didn’t—”

  She cut in. “I have to look out for the good of the kingdom and for your—”

  “I didn’t lie with her!” Gabriel interrupted. “I never touched her. She’s not here for—for that.”

  “She is just breaking down your wall of comfort before she takes you.”

  “I—I,” he sputtered and shook his hands, his temper breaking through. “It’s my decision! No woman will take me! Please, Aisling,” he dropped his hands and straightened to his full height, suddenly standing a head above her. “Don’t.”

  She fixed him with a hot stare before thinning her lips. “Be careful the deals you make with Nolen. The Arconian vow is something you cannot break.”

  “Wait a minute,” Cordis muttered behind them, a buttered roll in his hand. He slowly looked up as realization came to his eyes. Gabriel met them and pinched his lips.

  He looked back down at Aisling as his hand found the door latch. “I’ve already made it,” he said quietly. Shouldering the door open, he left the woman standing there with a bewildered expression.

  He marched through the palace with a scowl and his fists clenched. The pages stayed out of his way, and no one spoke to him. His temper abated the further he walked, and his fists loosened, but his outburst had surprised him. He was never one to snap loose and vent his emotions, but something pushed him too far.

  ‘The Castrofax are not removable, and I am forever a slave to Nolen’s lust for power. Maybe it’s time to fully accept it. Move forward. I would have to leave Robyn behind. She would never take the hand of a man in a Castrofax; it would show weakness if her husband could not protect her. Perhaps I could find some happiness in the arms of another woman.’

  He found the Willow Wine Salon and walked in to a small sitting room decorated lavishly to look like a forest. Nolen stood with a petite blonde woman, her long hair tied back in a tail. His heart gave a leap, for the girl looked like Robyn, but she turned when he entered and she was indeed not his love.

  “Did you enjoy the firebrand?” Nolen asked. Gabriel remembered to drop his eyes at the last moment.

  “In a sense.”

  “Spare me the details,” Nolen cut in and raised a hand. He looked down at the woman beside him. She dressed in a pale blue satin gown, bundled in a white fox fur shawl, pinned back with a Mage brooch of black metal and a fat pearl. It marked her a Class Six Air Mage. “This is Lace Inisfree of Arconia. She is going to be spending the day with us, and the night with you.”

  Gabriel met her pale greenish eyes and forced himself to smile. ‘She could be the woman. She looks enough like Robyn,’ he thought dismissing the idea quickly. She had a heart-shaped face, a small chin and straight nose that turned up a little at the end. Like all the Arconians, she was slender and graceful as she walked up to him, smiling broadly. She had a pretty smile and straight teeth behind little pink lips.

  She took one of his hands up in both of hers and clenched it as she beamed up at him. She was shorter than Robyn by several inches. “It is my great pleasure to meet you,” she said in Arconian. She spoke as though her mouth was too small for her words, making her all the more adorable. “The palace is aflutter with stories of you, I can hardly decide which is true and which is concoction.” She giggled a little and bit her bottom lip. Her eyes wandered from his face and ran down his coat. “Mikelle no doubt has many a great story.” ‘Oh I bet she does.’ “She and I are…very close friends.”

  Gabriel’s shoulders unknotted as a true smile came to his face. “It is a pleasure to meet you as well.”

  “Enough,” Nolen muttered and grabbed black fabric off the back of a chair. He tossed it at Gabriel. “Put it on.”

  Gabriel caught the large piece of fabric and expected it to be some humiliating instrument, but it was a Mage cloak. Castle Jaden issued a Mage their own cloak after a Classing, but Gabriel had left his hidden in Urima Manor. He looked to the insignias s
titched over the right breast and found them to be accurate; the star of the Spirit, the double-hooks of Fire, the twisted leaves of Earth, and the single-edged blue ring of Water. Once, he would have been thankful to hold such a cloak, but now it was only a sad reminder.

  He slung it around his shoulder and buckled the two silver clasps. “Hood up,” Nolen snapped, and Gabriel pulled the black hood over his head. Lace took a moment to adjust the hood and smooth the fabric over his chest with a little smile bubbling over into a giggle.

  “Let us be going,” Nolen cut in and stood beside them. He ripped Fire from Gabriel’s chest and clumsily laid a pattern, leaving Gabriel dazed for a moment as the energy left him. Lace laid the same pattern in a far more fluid fashion, and he realized it was the sidestep-pattern. A sidestep was a pattern as old as the first Mages, designed to move the space between places. It required all five Elements wielded by a Class Six or higher. Anyone weaker could not move correctly, and the folly could kill or maim. It was rarely used nowadays because there were so few Class Sixes. It was the fastest way to get from one spot to another without moving.

  “Where are we going?” Gabriel asked. Nolen raised his hand, and Gabriel flinched, but Lace lashed her hand up and grabbed Nolen’s wrist.

  “Focus,” she said. “Straighten that line and loop this circle more southward.” She spoke with a little accent, and as her fingers pointed, gems on every digit sparkled. A net of pearls capped the top of her head, and a necklace studded with sapphires graced her slender neck. She was both educated and rich, and she must have known someone in power to be in the Arconian group. ‘Dangerous,’ Gabriel decided.

  Nolen’s eyes darkened at the girl half his size. When he was done with Fire, he drew Earth, yanking it from Gabriel’s chest sharply that left his head spinning. Elements could not be drawn too quickly or too deeply, for it would unbalance the mind and body, leaving some dazed and others unconscious. After almost five years as a Classed Mage, Gabriel never had problems with drawing, but Nolen was unfamiliar with the strength of a Class Ten.