Conquering Fate

by Jennifer Anne Davis

  “But you care for Anders more.” His voice was sharp like an arrow embedding dead center in a target.

  I looked away, not wanting to talk about Anders right now, especially with Morlet.

  “I’m sorry.” He sighed. “This is an impossible situation we’re in, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “I just wish there was a way to save Espen while ending the curse and killing the dark magic inside of you.”

  “That’s not possible, and I wouldn’t want that.” He leaned toward me. His shirt had been torn open and scratches covered his chest and neck.

  “I know.” He once told me that if he returned to Espen, he would never be able to live with what he’d done—all the people he’d tortured and killed. Despite that, I still wished to save him. Especially during times like these, when he was kind and generous, the dark magic latent.

  Little droplets of water ran down Morlet’s face. His hand reached out, cupping my cheek. My heart beat erratically. “My Kaia.” His thumb gently caressed my skin. “I always said you’d either be the death of me or set me free.” Everything went black as our connection severed.

  4

  Damaris and I stopped around midday to eat a quick snack. I still hadn’t mentioned the weird dream I’d experienced last night with Morlet.

  “We should reach the capital by nightfall,” she said, taking a swig of water from the pouch. “You’ve been awfully quiet today.” She handed the pouch to me and stretched her legs out before her.

  “I’ve just been thinking.”

  “About what?” she asked, glancing at the trees towering above us.

  “About why the previous Skog Heks and Grei Heks weren’t living at the castle with the king and queen.”

  “That alone almost borders on breaking the treaty,” she mused. “Power has to be shared jointly between the king, queen, and the two Heks.” Something flashed in her eyes so quickly that I couldn’t quite discern it.

  “Maybe it’s because they were the last Grei Heks and Skog Heks in the kingdom and they wanted to live peacefully elsewhere, only going to the castle as needed.”

  “Perhaps. However, it would have to be something all of them agreed to.”

  I stood, eager to finish the last leg of our journey. I reached my hand down, Damaris took hold of it, and I hoisted her to her feet. It dawned on me that she should know why the previous Skog Heks and Grei Heks didn’t live in the castle since she had the previous Grei Heks’s memories.

  We walked in silence for several minutes.

  “The previous Skog Heks knew Morlet was trying to unearth magic in the mines, didn’t she?” I asked.

  She glanced over her shoulder at me. “Yes.”

  When she didn’t explain further, I said, “Did she know what Morlet intended to do with it?”

  “He wanted to gather enough magic to counter the curse. The previous Skog Heks let him search, hoping something far more valuable would be found. She knew Morlet wouldn’t be able to do anything if he unearthed the magic.” We continued walking. “Have you seen the sapphire Vidar keeps in his room?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “He showed it to me. Grei Heks had a similar one.”

  “Do you know where that particular one is?”

  “Vidar has it now.” Following close behind her, I wondered what she was getting at.

  “Did he tell you the history behind the sapphire?”

  “No.” He’d told me he used it to communicate with Grei Heks and to identify whether someone was a Kriger or not. When I’d held it, it started glowing, the inside swirling as if it had a life of its own. But he never told me where the sapphire came from or how he got it.

  “A very long time ago,” Damaris said, “a sapphire filled with magic broke into three pieces. Vidar now possesses two of them. I must obtain the third.”

  While the sapphire definitely held some sort of power, I didn’t think Damaris could use it in place of her magic. But why else would she want it? What importance did the sapphire hold?

  She lowered her head close to mine and whispered, “I believe that once the three pieces are reunited, something spectacular will happen.” Her eyes seemed to glow.

  I took a step back, away from her, feeling inexplicably lightheaded.

  Damaris grabbed my arm, steadying me. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget my magic is gone. When I try to use it, your power senses me.”

  “And you tried to use your magic just now?” Why? What had she intended to do to me?

  “When I’m happy, I send my joy out to others so they can experience it, too.” She smiled warmly at me. A bird sang in the tree above, a gentle breeze rolled through the leaves, and a sense of calm filled me. We resumed walking, and Damaris released my arm.

  What did she think would happen once the three pieces were put together? The curse didn’t mention anything about the sapphire.

  “I almost forgot,” Damaris said. “Anders spoke to me.”

  Hearing his name made my heart flutter. I pushed that feeling aside and shrugged, trying to not look or act like I cared.

  Damaris continued, “Do you understand that if you’re royalty, Heks can’t hurt you?”

  This must have been how Anders felt the first time we traveled through the forest together and he accused me of talking incessantly. She glanced over her shoulder at me, waiting for a response. “Yes.”

  “Anders wishes for you to marry Vidar so you’ll be protected by the treaty. When the borders reopen, you’ll be safe.”

  I sighed. “Marrying Vidar isn’t the answer. Look at his parents. There are ways around the treaty.”

  Damaris didn’t immediately respond, and I hoped the conversation was over. I was tired from walking, tired from worrying about Morlet, and tired from dealing with this curse.

  “Did Anders tell you who he used to work for?” she asked, breaking the silence.

  The idea of Anders confiding in her irked me since he so rarely revealed personal information. “He told me the master assassin who raised him was a Heks.” The thought still made me sick to my stomach. What horrors had Anders witnessed? What cruelty had he experienced?

  “Yes. And he is still alive. When the borders open, there is a very good chance he will come into Nelebek for Anders.” Damaris stopped walking and faced me. “Don’t you understand what this means? The master assassin will come after you.” I opened my mouth to argue when she continued, “If you’re married to Vidar, he won’t be able to lay a finger on you.”

  I wasn’t convinced he’d bother with me. He had no idea who I was and I held no importance to him.

  Damaris reached down and squeezed my hand. “Trust me when I say you need to take every precaution when it comes to the master assassin. He is ruthless, cunning, and vindictive.” Her hand shook ever so slightly. “When it’s known that you’ve produced a new breed of Heks, there’s no predicting what he’ll do. And it’s not a matter of if he discovers that Anders is still alive, but when. You don’t know the lengths he’ll go to for retribution.”

  The wall surrounding the capital loomed to my right, about a mile away. “Since it is night, we’ll need to enter on the south side,” Damaris said, squatting in the tall grass. The wind blew, swaying the grass so it made a soft whispering sound.

  “How are we going to get in?” She hadn’t even been in Nelebek a full season whereas I’d lived in the capital my entire life. Even at night, soldats stood guard at the gate verifying traveling papers. Without those documents, a person couldn’t enter or exit. The few times I’d managed to sneak in or out, I either went through a secret spot in the wall where a couple of the blocks came loose, or I used the underground tunnels.

  I reached my hand out, gliding it over the soft grass. Thick clouds concealed the moon making it exceptionally dark tonight. Still, I didn’t think we could remain hidden here in the grass for much longer.

  “I know a way,” Damaris replied. “Follow me and do what I do. Ready?”

  I nodded. She abruptly stoo
d and started running across the open field toward the capital’s wall. I scrambled to catch up to her, shocked we were running out in the open. Soldats patrolled along the top of the wall and we could be spotted at any time.

  Damaris dropped to the ground and froze. I did the same, trying to remain still in the knee-high grass. Panic flooded me. Had we been spotted? Damaris reached back, grabbing my hand. The reassuring gesture sent a measure of comfort through me, calming my raging nerves.

  After several excruciatingly slow minutes, she tapped my side and then sprang to her feet, running again. I jumped up, sprinting after her. I kept glancing at the top of the wall, looking for soldats. When we reached the wall, Damaris headed south, trailing her right hand along the stones as if searching for something. She came to an abrupt halt, and I almost bumped into her. She peeled a rope away from the wall, tugging on it to ensure it was firmly secured to the top. Satisfied, she started climbing.

  Half-way up, she peered down at me and jerked her chin toward the top. I nodded. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed onto the rope. I’d never scaled a twenty-foot-high wall before. Not wanting to overthink it and panic, I placed my feet against the wall and started climbing. The skin on my hands burned and the muscles in my arms shook from the effort. Ten feet to go. I wrapped the rope around my wrists for additional support, fearing my hands would fail me.

  Damaris reached the top. Hauling herself onto the flat, narrow surface, she laid on her stomach and grabbed the rope, helping to pull me up. When I neared her, she reached down and took hold of my wrists, yanking me the rest of the way until I flopped on top of the wall next to her, amazed at her strength. But she was a Heks—and they were physically stronger than humans.

  While I lay there panting, Damaris untied the rope from a nail toward the top of the outer wall. She reattached the rope to a nail embedded on the inner side of the wall. Who had placed those nails there? How long had they been there? And how did Damaris know about them? She released the rope and it uncurled, reaching the ground on the interior side of the wall.

  Damaris hit my foot and pointed at me and then at the rope. She wanted me to go first. I lifted my red, blistered hands, not sure I could hold on. She ripped off a piece of fabric from the bottom of her skirt and wrapped it around my hands. She pushed me toward the edge, frantically holding up one finger. We had one minute until the soldat patrolling this section of the wall passed by again. Clutching onto the rope, I wound my foot around it to steady myself, and then I loosened my grip and slid straight down. My stomach felt like it flew into my throat from the fast descent. When my feet hit the ground, I flattened my body against the wall and held still. Damaris dropped down next to me and did the same.

  Soft footsteps echoed above us. I held my breath, waiting for the soldat to pass. Once I no longer heard him, I hunched forward. That had been close. However, our troubles weren’t over yet, since it was after curfew. If we were spotted wandering the streets, we’d be arrested and thrown in the dungeon. I glanced around, not recognizing where we were. Damaris tapped my shoulder and pointed at the nearest apartment building. I nodded and she darted to it, hiding in the shadows.

  I followed her as we made our way down the alleyway. The familiar smell of fecal matter and mold permeated the air, making my head spin. Laundry lines were strung from apartment window to apartment window above our heads, clothing hanging on them to dry. I shivered, remembering when I had worked as a laundress twelve hours a day, every single day of the week. I used to wash clothing in frigid water, bent over, scraping my knuckles until they bled. Would I still be doing that job if I weren’t a Kriger?

  Damaris nudged my side, startling me. I hadn’t realized I’d stopped. She drew her eyebrows together in concern. I shook my head, not wanting to talk about what life had been like growing up in the capital under Morlet’s tyrannical reign. She nodded and resumed walking. We slunk down alley after alley, remaining in the shadows cast by the tall buildings. Damaris never hesitated and appeared to know exactly where she was going. She must have learned her way around while living with Cyrill, the rebel leader who’d found and taken her in.

  We came to an intersection. Damaris peered around the corner of the building. “We need to cross the street to the other side. Ready?”

  I nodded, and she took off. I sprinted after her, my footsteps sounding loud in the quiet night. We reached the other side, flattening our bodies against the building. A sign for the Waterhole Tavern hung above our heads squeaking, the wind gently swaying it back and forth. The windows behind us had been boarded up.

  “What now?” I whispered.

  Damaris smiled and knocked on the door four times, paused, and then knocked twice more. The door creaked open and she slid inside. I hurried after her. The door closed and total darkness consumed us.

  “The bread will be delivered tomorrow,” Damaris said.

  There was a rustling noise and then a small lantern appeared in front of us held by a balding man in his late fifties. “That’s the code all right,” he muttered. “You, I recognize,” he said, pointing at Damaris. “You, I don’t.” He pointed at me.

  “This is Kaia,” she said. “And we need a room for the night.”

  He nodded. “How about a meal first?”

  “That would be great,” she replied. “But we don’t have any money.”

  He glanced at me. “Are you the Kriger everyone’s talking about?” I nodded. The man turned and started walking down a hallway. “Follow me. I’ll take care of the food.” He stopped before a closed door at the end of the hallway. “How have you been holding up since Cyrill died?”

  “I miss him,” Damaris answered. “Thankfully, I have the Krigers now.”

  The man grunted and opened the door. Bright light burst into the hallway along with a cacophony of rowdy voices. “Come on in.”

  I followed Damaris into a packed room. A wooden counter stretched the entire length of the wall to my left, at least two dozen people standing along it drinking from mugs. Several tables were situated throughout the room, all filled with men and women playing cards or eating food.

  “How did so many people get here after curfew?” I asked.

  The man laughed. “Some live in the apartment building above, others follow the tunnels.” He winked.

  Was this a rebel hideout? Before I could ask him he went behind the bar, speaking to a woman with an apron tied around her waist.

  “Let’s find a seat,” Damaris said, winding her way between the tables.

  In the back corner, we sat at a small, round table. I rubbed my face, looking at the men and women gathered in the tavern. Several of the patrons wore mining uniforms. I noticed a group of them sitting around one of the tables, their heads bent toward one another as they spoke. One miner kept gesturing widely. I caught the word blue, and his hands seemed to be holding an invisible bucket as he spoke. Was he one of the miners who unearthed the Heks magic?

  “I have the strangest sensation,” Damaris said, her eyes glazing over. “Something is different. Although without my magic, I can’t tell what it is, but I can feel it.”

  Could she be sensing the unearthed Heks magic from the nearby mines? And if so, what did that mean?

  A serving woman brought two bowls of steaming stew. I took a large bite, thankful for the warm food, even if it was rather bland.

  “Have Anders or Vidar been through here in the last day or two?” Damaris asked the woman.

  “I haven’t seen either of them.” She wiped her hands on her apron and headed back to the bar.

  “I thought for sure they’d be staying here,” Damaris mumbled.

  “Maybe they are,” I said. “They could have been in here when that woman wasn’t working.

  “Possibly,” she replied, not sounding convinced. “Wait here. I’m going to ask a few of the patrons if they know where Anders and Vidar are. Someone has to have seen them.” Pushing away from the table, she stood and went to a table filled with miners.

  Too exhausted to be w
orried, I finished eating and laid my head on the table.

  “No one has seen them,” Damaris whispered, startling me awake. I must have dozed off for a minute or two.

  Blinking, I lifted my head. “The capital is huge. Maybe they went somewhere else.”

  Damaris shook her head. “They’d be here. This is where the rebels hang out, where the information is, and where they’d plan the rescue from.”

  A sick feeling embedded in my stomach. “Do you think Morlet already has them?” I asked.

  She pursed her lips. “Everyone is talking about the executions tomorrow. If the king managed to capture Vidar and Anders, I think people here would be talking about it.”

  I agreed. We stood to leave. A young boy about ten years old ran over and tugged on Damaris’s skirt. He handed her a piece of paper. She took the paper and slid it up her sleeve, not saying a word to the boy as he scampered away. Damaris patted my shoulder and led the way out of the tavern and up a narrow stairwell.

  “What did that boy give you?” I asked as we went down the hallway.

  At the third door, she pushed it open. “A note. It said that Vidar and Anders are in the tunnels on their way to the dungeon to rescue the rebels.”

  “Right now?” I asked.

  “Yes. If Morlet intended to lure the Krigers here, he wouldn’t suspect a sneaky plot such as that.”

  I rubbed my temples. “But Morlet isn’t luring the Krigers here. He did this to bring Vidar and Anders here.” They were walking right into a trap.

  Damaris closed the door. “Their plan may still work. We won’t know until the executions tomorrow.”

  “Should we try to help?” I asked.

  “If it’s a trap, we don’t want to fall for it. We’ll sleep here tonight. Tomorrow we’ll go to the Town Square. If the executions are still being held, it’ll be up to us to stop them.”

  There were two cots on the floor inside the tiny room. If we ended up having to save the rebels tomorrow, I’d need every ounce of strength I had. I plopped onto the closest cot and closed my eyes, instantly falling asleep.