Harbinger

by Nicole Conway

  I swallowed hard, fighting to gulp down the burning lump that rose in my throat. He was talking about me. I was the one who had killed all those men—although, not for the Tibrans, of course. I was trying to help, trying to save Vexi, when everything spun out of control. Had Aubren told them a Tibran weapon had done all that to cover for me?

  “Not that any of us believed for a moment that kind of backfire would deter them,” the king continued. “Tibrans are not so easily discouraged. They’ll try to take Barrowton again—if they haven’t already. Prince Aubren and Duke Derrick were determined to evacuate the city and save as many as they could before that hammer fell, however.”

  Jaevid’s eyes darkened. He clenched his teeth so hard a vein stood out in the side of his neck. Neither of us was enjoying this conversation anymore.

  I cleared my throat, although my voice still cracked when I spoke. “Uh, maybe we should take a break here.”

  Queen Araxie drew back in confusion, almost like she found the suggestion utterly ridiculous. Then her gaze paused on Jaevid. I guess she could see his distress as plainly as I could. Her expression saddened, and she nodded. “A room has been prepared for you both. You are welcome here as long as you wish.”

  Jaevid’s smile looked painfully forced. His hands were still clenched.

  “I think he should stay with me,” I said. “At the clinic, that is.”

  Now the king and queen were both glowering at me. Right, okay, I know that probably really sounded stupid to them. He was a famous demigod war hero. At first glance, it made way more sense that he should be housed in the palace with as many royal comforts as he could stand, not at my cramped little medical clinic. Except in every story I’d ever heard Kiran tell about him, he’d always emphasized that Jaevid was modest. He was a simple kind of person who didn’t like being in the spotlight or being given any extra attention because of who he was. Formalities, riches, and grandeur made him uncomfortable—according to Kiran, anyway. I was acting on a hunch that being here might have been part of the problem. After all, I hadn’t seen him relax since we’d walked through the door.

  At my suggestion, Jaevid’s mouth quirked slightly in a real smile. He closed his eyes and nodded slowly. “I would prefer that, if it’s all right. I mean no insult, and I’m grateful for your hospitality. Truly, I am. I just … need some time to think.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” King Jace let out a deep sigh. He’d known Jaevid back then, during the Gray War, so maybe he got it, too. “As far as we are concerned, this city is as much your home as it is ours. You can do as you like.” Then he looked at me. “Just try not to make a spectacle out of it. For the time being, let’s keep his presence at your home just between us.”

  “Of course,” I agreed. The last thing I wanted was the whole city of Mau Kakuri knocking down my front door to catch a glimpse of everyone’s favorite war hero.

  ELEVEN

  Dinner seemed to drag on forever. Sleeping rough in the jungle the night before had my back aching and a belly full of warm food had made my mind sluggish. King Jace talked on and on about some of his memories from when he and Jaevid had been captured in Luntharda. He made being tortured sound like it wasn’t that big of a deal. Starvation? No problem. A few broken bones? A minor inconvenience. Almost being beheaded on the temple steps? Ah, well, it had just been a misunderstanding.

  Jace was a strange old guy, even for a human.

  Jaevid didn’t eat much and stayed quiet while everyone else talked. His gaze was distant, as though he were a thousand miles away. Every now and then, he would steal a quick glance at Hecate. Then his body would stiffen, his brow twitching and creasing, until he finally looked away again. It was like they were having a conversation the rest of us couldn’t hear.

  When the meal was over, Queen Araxie hugged Jaevid tightly again and kissed his forehead. King Jace offered him a firm handshake and a few rough pats on the back. Hecate bowed slightly, murmuring a quiet farewell.

  During all that, Jaevid never said a word. He had a thin, anxious frown on his lips as he picked up his bloodstained cloak, tied it around his shoulders again, and came to stand next to me. For whatever reason, he seemed more comfortable around me than he was with them. It was like having a much taller shadow following me around.

  At King Jace’s suggestion, we slipped out of the palace through a cramped secret tunnel that led us underground. It twisted and turned, seeming to go on forever. Jaevid had to crouch over and shuffle along with a hand on my back so we didn’t lose one another in the dark. I walked with my hands out in front, groping through the gloom until it ended at a small door. The smell of cool, crisp moisture and moss filled my nose before I even opened it. The sound of rushing water gave me an idea of where we might be.

  Pushing the door open, I squinted into the silvery moonlight that hit the mist around the falls and made the air sparkle. We were standing on a ledge right beside the falls, nothing between us and the glistening spires of the palace except for empty air and the pouring falls. Before us, the city of Mau Kakuri was bathed in glittering veils of mist and starlight.

  “Beautiful,” Jaevid whispered.

  I smirked. “After you save the world again maybe you can retire here.”

  “You think I can do it?” He arched an eyebrow.

  “What? Beat the Tibrans? Save Maldobar?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, if you can’t, then we’re basically toast, right?” I regretted those words instantly. Jaevid’s expression went from curious and marginally content to utter despair in a matter of seconds. “I, uh, I’m sure it’ll work out. Besides, you’re not alone. You’ve got the support of Luntharda and Maldobar this time.”

  Looking back out over the city again, Jaevid didn’t answer. A sad, distant smile made his sharp features soften as he sighed. “Sure. What’s the worst that can happen? I die again?”

  I choked, trying not to laugh. “Was that a joke? Did the great Jaevid Broadfeather just make a death joke?”

  He started laughing, too. “I guess so.”

  Things felt more relaxed as we made our way into the city. Most of the celebrations had been moved indoors after the sunset. We both had the cowls of our cloaks pulled up to hide our faces from the few people still out celebrating in the street. Windows into houses and taverns revealed crowds still toasting, eating, and joining in excited conversations—probably retelling all of Jaevid’s wild adventure stories. No one paid us much attention, though.

  When we got to the front door of the medical clinic, I opened it and gestured for him to go inside first. He had to duck to get through the doorway. He really was tall, especially for a halfbreed. Gray elves were typically on the short side, and halfbreeds almost always shared that trait as well. Not Jaevid, though. He was easily three or four inches over six feet.

  It was cozy inside the clinic. Enyo had left embers to smolder down in the fire pit, and the smells from her dinner were still lingering in the warm air. Only a few oil lamps were lit, making the shadows heavy and the atmosphere seem dim and close. More of Kiran’s medical journals were spread out across the floor like she’d been studying again. I didn’t see her anywhere, though. Maybe she’d gone to stay with her family for the night rather than be here alone.

  Together, Jaevid and I took off our boots and cloaks and left them by the doorway. I watched my guest step carefully into the house, looking all around with a strange expression, as though he were wondering if he should have recognized any of this or not.

  I decided to clear that up for him. “You’ve never been here before, by the way.”

  Jaevid winced. “O-Oh. Okay. Good. I was just thinking that it doesn’t look familiar. The palace didn’t, either.”

  “This city was just a small village before the war, so most of the buildings here probably didn’t even exist then,” I explained.

  “I suppose a lot has changed in … forty years.” His voice hitched, catching at the number.


  “That’s what I’ve been told.” I sighed, picking up a few more logs from the timber box near the door so I could stoke the fire back to life. It filled the room with more light and made things seem a little less depressing. “Make yourself at home.” I nodded to the seat across the fire pit.

  Jaevid Broadfeather sat down at my home hearth, his arms folded guardedly across his middle. I spotted him once again probing at that scar on his shoulder, his brow furrowed, and his mouth skewed, as though he were still struggling to remember where it had come from.

  “Look, it’s okay,” I said. “I get that this is a lot for you to take in. So, if you have questions, or you’re not sure about something, you can ask me. I’m not gonna judge you.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.” His expression dimmed. “Everyone’s expecting so much from me, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to live up to that. The list of things I know is disturbingly short.”

  I smirked. “Well, I didn’t know you before, so I don’t have any expectations. Except maybe for you to take a bath. No offense but going forty years without one doesn’t smell so great.”

  His face flushed. “O-Oh. Yes. I suppose I should.”

  “You can borrow some of my clothes, too, if you want. I’m shorter, so they probably won’t fit right, but it’ll get you by until we can find you something else.”

  “Thank you, Reigh.” I got the impression by the tone and the earnest way he was staring at me that he wasn’t just thanking me for the clothes.

  I shrugged. “It’s the least I can do after, you know, what I did. It’s my fault you’re in this mess now, right?”

  “How did you do it? How did you awaken me?”

  I had really been hoping he wouldn’t ask me that. I didn’t have Hecate’s bluffing skills. I turned my face away, pretending to be filling one of our bronze teapots with water so he wouldn’t see me grimace. “It was sort of an accident. I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “How old are you?” He had a strange edge to his voice.

  “Sixteen. I’ll be seventeen in a few months.”

  “I know you said we’ve never met, and I guess it’s impossible that we would have. You wouldn’t have been born when I was, er, alive before.” He was rubbing that scar again. “I just get this weird feeling that I know you. You seem very familiar somehow.”

  I hesitated, my body cringing up involuntarily. “Well, if Prince Aubren is right and I’m, you know, related to King Felix of Maldobar … that could be why.” It was only explanation that made sense, but not one I had fully come to terms with yet. If everything Aubren suspected was true, then I was also a prince of Maldobar—and a direct descendant of Jaevid’s best friend. Maybe I looked like him, or at least favored him enough to call back some of those memories from the depths of his mind. Regardless, I wasn’t exactly up for an open debate about my parentage.

  “I suppose.” He sighed. “I’m not sure of anything anymore. My head feels like a grape being squeezed in someone’s fist. I can’t concentrate. The more I try, the more my thoughts scramble.”

  “Some senility is expected for a man of your age.” I tried teasing him a little, just to lighten the mood. “But if it’s any consolation, you look okay for someone everyone thought was a corpse a few days ago.”

  Jaevid smirked back. “I suppose I do smell like a corpse, though.”

  “Yep, no argument there. The public bathhouse is probably closed for the night. But you can use the basin upstairs. It’s the first door on the left.” I nodded toward the staircase. “Help yourself.”

  Okay, so in retrospect, I probably should have gone up with him and made extra sure Enyo wasn’t there. My bad. I was still a little thrown off because of the whole “having the one and only Jaevid Broadfeather in my house” thing.

  The sound of her scream from upstairs made me jump. Commotion, thumping noises, thuds, and Enyo screeching like an angry hawk came from the stairwell. Oh no …

  Dropping the tea steeper, I’d been stuffing full of fragrant dried tealeaves, I bolted upstairs as fast as I could.

  Jaevid was on the floor opposite from the washroom with Enyo looming over him in a defensive stance, her hands balled into fists. Her long, silver hair was dripping wet and her face was flushed with anger.

  Oh, and she was naked. Well, mostly naked. She had a thin silk shawl wrapped around her, but it only barely covered everything.

  “Reigh!” She gasped as she saw me clambering up the stairwell. “This mongrel broke in. Probably trying to steal medicines or money. He tried to corner me in the washroom!”

  Jaevid was groaning and holding his face.

  Enyo curled her lip in disgust and gave him a kick to the ribs, just for good measure. “Hurry up and get your sword! I’ll hold him here until the city guards get—”

  “Enyo, stop!” I rushed in between them and helped drag Jaevid back to his feet. He was dazed, but the instant he looked at Enyo, his whole face turned beet red and he turned away, covering his eyes.

  I didn’t get it at first. Sure, she was pretty, but she was also kind of terrifying when she was snarling like an angry shrike. Then I remembered what an old servant woman in Barrowton had told me about nudity. Humans weren’t comfortable with it, and Jaevid had grown up in Maldobar, raised mostly by humans. I guessed it was only natural that he’d be a little shocked and embarrassed to see her like that.

  “Oh, gods,” he rasped. “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know there was anyone else here.”

  “It’s okay.” I shot Enyo an exasperated glare over my shoulder.

  She glared back. “What’s going on? Who is this?”

  “He’s my guest, not an intruder.” I stepped out of the way, so she could see him. “Jaevid, this is Enyo. Enyo, meet Jaevid. If you can manage it, try not to punch or kick him again. He’s had a rough day.”

  Her face paled. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

  Jaevid still wouldn’t look at her. With his eyes pinched shut, he just nodded once and went on rubbing his jaw. There was blood on his chin. She’d split his lip wide open with one punch. “Nice to meet you,” he rasped.

  “Oh,” Enyo breathed the word shakily. For a moment, she looked like she might faint. Then her wide, shimmering eyes flicked to me. “How? When? I-I heard the commotion in the streets, but I had no idea it was … I mean, I just assumed it was something to do with the war in Maldobar, not …”

  “It’s a long story,” I mumbled. “Before we dive into that, why don’t you put some clothes on and do something about the damage you did to his face, eh? I’ve got to find him something to wear.”

  “Oh! Oh, Fates.” She gasped again, horrified. She clamped a hand over her mouth as though she’d just remembered. “I-I punched him. I punched Jaevid Broadfeather in the face!”

  TWELVE

  Everything had calmed down again as we settled downstairs, gathering around the fire pit and waiting for the water to boil for tea. Jaevid was avoiding eye contact as he joined us around the fire pit. His cheeks and nose were bright red, and his bottom lip swollen and bloody. Likewise, Enyo couldn’t seem to sit still. She shifted her weight, nibbling on the inside of her cheek and stealing glances at him now and again.

  “I am so sorry, Lord Jaevid. Honestly, I had no idea you were here.” Enyo spoke softly, scooting closer to sit by him with a tray of medical tools. She kept her head bowed in respect, and her hands shook as she picked up a cloth off the tray. “May I tend to your lip?”

  He blushed and hardly seemed able to look at her. “I—yes, thank you. But please, you can both just call me ‘Jae’ if you want. ‘Lord’ sounds a little formal. Besides, I’m not really lord of anything.”

  Now Enyo was blushing, too. For some reason, that really got on my nerves. I watched as she laid out a few things to treat Jaevid’s split lip. It was swollen and probably needed at least one stitch. She patted it gently with that clean cloth to wipe away the blood.

  My heart p
ounded as Enyo gingerly leaned closer to him to examine the damage. I didn’t like it one bit—the way she was looking at him. Like he was special. Like she was enjoying being close to him. Why the heck had I suggested she do this? I was the medical expert here. I’d spent years apprenticing under Kiran. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

  How could I compete with that? Jaevid was older than me by a year or two and probably better-looking by female standards. He had those sharp, perfectly-defined elf features and a piercing gaze that reminded me somewhat of Jace’s. That must have been a dragonrider thing. His hair was chopped off short, right above his shoulders, and was ash gray color—a bit darker than the normal white-silver of the elves. Not to mention he was taller with wider shoulders and a more leanly muscled frame.

  And I was just … me. Luntharda’s resident human screw-up. The guy who’d gotten her in trouble practically every day since we’d met.

  I rubbed my jaw and tried to think of something, anything else. Why did this even bother me so much? Why did it matter how she treated him? It wasn’t like I …

  As Enyo went on cleaning the split on his lip, I saw her avoiding his gaze in a coy, bashful manner. She’d never acted like that around me. Great. It didn’t matter what I felt. I didn’t stand a chance now.

  I cleared my throat and glared down at the fire. “You can have my room for the night. Maybe if you can rest, some of those memories might come back.”

  Jaevid couldn’t answer while she was preparing to put one stitch on his bottom lip.

  “Memories?” Enyo glanced between us, her brow crinkled.

  “He doesn’t remember much from before he, well, I’m not sure ‘died’ is the right word for it.”