I don’t know. Just listen and maybe we will find out.
Cassie then heard her father’s voice. “You mentioned soldiers wearing white tabards.”
Parker replied. “Yes. With a blue rune of Issal on the chest and some sort of mail armor beneath.”
“Hmm. Mail is heavy, difficult to move in.”
“These soldiers didn’t seem affected, Brock.” Tenzi said.
“No Issalian kingdom wears white and blue…and certainly none would send out soldiers fighting behind that rune. How long ago did this occur?”
“Well,” Tenzi said, “we sailed straight for Wayport to restock our stores. While we were there, I informed Duke Chadwick of what happened. His is among the nearest ports and is at risk. From there, we sailed straight here. I’d say it was nine days at the most.”
Parker asked, “Do you know who’s behind this?”
The sound of a drawer opening came through the door.
“I received this missive just last night,” Brock said. “It appears that an old enemy has returned, declaring the entire eastern coast as their own.”
The sound of paper unfolding preceded Tenzi’s voice, reading aloud.
“Sol Polis has fallen, and with it, Kalimar is ours. A new regime rules the east coast, one with new laws – laws that restore order to Empire citizens.
“The borders between your lands and ours extend from Yarth, across the entirety of Vinacci, to the east coast of Hurnsdom. Any attempt to reclaim these lands will be treated as an act of war, as will the mere presence of an armed force approaching our borders. All trading between the Empire and the kingdoms of Issalia will cease until amicable trade agreements have been negotiated with each nation.
“Furthermore, know that we have reinstated the Choosing ceremony and have formally outlawed the use of the dark magic tied to Chaos. Anyone found to have the inherent ability to channel Chaos will be imprisoned. Any demonstration of this forbidden magic inside our borders will be met with swift execution.
“Take heed of these warnings. They are the last you will...”
Brandt sneezed, drowning out the last word. Cassie’s eyes grew wide and she gasped.
Her father’s voice came from inside. “Did you hear something?”
Quick. Over the railing, Cassie sent to her brother.
She turned and stood upright, her stomach twisting at the odd lack of gravity she felt. Lifting a leg, she climbed over, unable to resist looking down. Five stories below, a courtyard waited – a drop that would undoubtedly kill under normal circumstances. Despite the knowledge that she had nothing to fear, her stomach twisted again, this time from anxiety.
With one foot securely on the ledge, she stepped onto it and pressed her back against the castle wall as her brother scrambled to join her. The moment when they had both tucked in the recess, the balcony door opened. The sound of boots on the balcony caused Cassie to hold her breath in silence. Motion loomed in her periphery when the shoulder of her father’s black coat came into view. He reached out and put his hand on the railing, leaning over it to look down.
“Odd,” Brock mumbled. “I thought I heard something.”
He turned and his footsteps faded into his study. When the door clicked shut behind him, Cassie released her breath.
Thank, Issal, she sent to Brandt.
That was close.
Yes, she agreed. Let’s get back.
Shuffling to her left, with her back against the castle wall, Cassie eyed her target – a balcony thirty feet away. When she could move no further, she leaped. With her heart in her throat, she floated up, arcing high before drifting down to grab ahold of the rail. She climbed over and turned to watch her brother jump impossibly far and land atop the rail, grinning as he caught his balance.
Show off, she sent.
Jealous, he replied.
Cassie turned from him, opened the glass-paned door, and entered the room with Brandt a step behind. She gasped and froze in place.
Her father stood beside the interior door with his arms crossed over his chest. The man was dressed in a gold-trimmed black coat with a gold and red starburst emblem on his left breast. Beneath his barely tamed brown hair was a furrowed brow, distorting the two runes that marked his forehead.
“Aren’t you two supposed to be taking a test?” Brock’s eyes shifted toward the woman in the corner, her mouth hanging open, her head tilted back as she snored. “And what happened to Master Padia?”
“Sorry, Father. We were just…”
Cassie stopped talking when his eyes narrowed. Her gaze tracked his, looking down at the rune traced on the back of her hand. She covered the symbol with her other hand, but it was too late.
“You were abusing your abilities,” Brock said, his tone accusatory.
Cassie glanced at Brandt. Do you have any ideas?
No…not this time.
What do we tell him?
The truth, I guess.
Cassie sighed. “When we learned that Parker and Tenzi had arrived…we were curious.”
“We were bored and were only seeking excitement,” Brandt said. “You must admit, those two always have the best stories.”
“And what of the story they told today?”
Cassie suddenly felt ashamed. “It’s…sad. It sounds as if many people died.”
Their father stared at them for a long moment before sighing. “You now approach your seventeenth summer. While I understand your curiosity and your desire to seek excitement, you two must realize when it is appropriate and when it is not.” Brock moved closer and opened his arms. “Now come here and give me a hug.”
Cassie smiled and stepped into one arm as her brother took the other. The man abruptly gripped the back of her tunic and lifted her off the floor, doing the same to her brother.
Brock smiled. “You should also realize the negative aspects of the augmentation you used. Reducing gravity’s effect on yourself also means that you have less mass for others to deal with.”
He opened his fists, releasing them as they lightly touched down to the floor.
“We would use another augmentation, but you have only taught us one other and…it’s useless,” Brandt complained.
“Your instruction remains limited because of hijinks like this.” Brock shook his head. “The ability to wield Chaos can be wonderful or it can be terrible. That type of power comes with responsibility and requires thought behind each action. Until you two prove you have matured, you’ll not learn another rune from me nor from your mother.”
Cassie found her eyes on the floor. We must do better, she sent to Brandt. Surprisingly, she felt his shame through their bond. Sensing emotion from him was no surprise, but she couldn’t recall him ever feeling ashamed at his actions. And, Issal knows, he had done some very shameful things.
A loud snore came from the woman in the chair, drawing everyone’s attention.
Brock frowned as he stared at the Padia. “What did you do to her?”
Cassie glanced at Brandt, who answered, “We put sleeping powder in her tea.”
“As I suspected,” Brock sighed. “What of your tests?”
Brandt shrugged. “Oh, we finished those by the time she fell asleep.”
“I’m not surprised,” their father said. “You two are clever, almost to the point of absurdity. Someday, you will learn to channel that cleverness into something positive.”
He moved toward the door, opening it as the sleeping woman snorted a particularly loud snore. “Wake her up and apologize for your actions. The woman cares for you and does all she can to educate you. She deserves better.”
The door closed, leaving Cassie and Brandt alone with their lore instructor.
2
Rivalry
Pain throbbed from Brandt’s nose and made his eyes water. He wiped it and found a streak of blood on the back of his hand. His gaze shifted to his opponent. A year older and slightly taller, the teen smiled, the look in his blue eyes one of confidence.
“Wh
at’s wrong, little brother?” Broland smiled. “Having second thoughts?”
“Not at all. In fact, I have you exactly where I want you.”
Broland grimaced. “Don’t try to get in my head. I’ll not let you goad me.”
“Who says I’m not already in there, wading through the muck?”
The two teens edged toward each other, warily holding their fists up and ready. Broland’s left hand lashed out and Brandt dodged. A jab with the right followed, which Brandt countered, striking Broland in the mouth. Broland stumbled back and wiped his lip, glancing down at the streak of blood on his fingers. His eyes narrowed and he shifted forward.
A fist flashed toward Brandt and he dodged. When the other fist drove toward Brandt’s head, he twisted and grabbed his brother’s wrist, bending at the waist and lunging to toss him over his back. Broland slammed into the dirt with a grunt and Brandt dove on top in an attempt to pin him to the floor, but Broland pushed him away before he got a grip.
As the two teens climbed to their feet, Broland rushed forward, slammed into Brandt, and drove him to the ground. A crack of pain ran through Brandt’s head when it hit the dirt. Spots blotted his vision and he squirmed, rolling his shoulder up until he was on his stomach with Broland on top. Brandt gasped for air, blinked to clear his vision, and fought past the throbbing in his head.
Brandt pushed up, straining to lift himself off the floor with his brother on his back. Broland wrapped his arm about Brandt’s neck and began to squeeze. With ragged breaths, Brandt strained as he regained his footing. Lifting his fist high, he drove his elbow backward into Broland’s stomach, eliciting a grunt. Yet, the strangle hold did not loosen.
Brandt lumbered forward, dragging Broland with him step by step until he neared the wall. As expected, Broland changed tactics and pushed Brandt forward, seeking to drive him into the wall. Brandt pulled down hard while holding his brother’s arm, and Broland’s head hit the wall with a crack. The arm loosened and Brandt scrambled free. In the background, he heard his mother gasp.
Broland stumbled with his hand to his head. When he lowered it, Brandt found his brother’s forehead torn open, blood dripping down. Before Broland could recover, Brandt spun and kicked backward, striking Broland in the midriff and causing him to bend forward. He threw a roundhouse punch, striking Broland square in the temple. The teen spun in a full circle and fell to his knees, wobbling and blinking in pain.
Wharton’s voice rang out. “Match.”
Brandt turned toward the man and beamed. “I won! I finally beat him!”
The captain clapped Brandt on the shoulder. “Yes. You possess your father’s quickness, but you must remember to keep a distance from larger opponents. They can use their weight to overwhelm you.”
Brandt turned to find his mother kneeling beside his brother with her hand on his arm. Broland inhaled a deep gasp, and a telling shiver shook his body when the gash on his head weaved shut.
Cassie moved close to Brandt, looking him in the eye. “Do you want me to heal you?”
“That would be wonderful if you can manage it.”
“Have you been practicing your mediation, Cassilyn?” Ashland asked.
Cassie rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mother.”
“Remember to remain calm,” Ashland said. “Order is nothing like Chaos. You need to find your center, your own source of Order, before you can find your brother’s.”
“I know, Mother.” Cassie put her hand on Brandt’s forehead and closed her eyes.
He waited patiently, his head pounding in time with the beat of his heart. A full minute elapsed, and he was prepared to make a snide remark until he saw his mother glaring at him. The look on her face left his words unsaid. A wave of icy cold wracked his body, driving the air from his lungs and leaving him gasping for air. His headache was gone, his nose no longer sore.
“I did it!” Cassie blurted, turning toward her mother. “I did it!”
Ashland smiled and put her arms around Cass, hugging her tightly. “Yes, you did. I knew you had it in you.” She released the girl and stared her in the eye. “Now that you have performed healing, it will become easier each time you do it.”
While Brandt knew he should be happy for his sister, frustration surfaced. She must have noticed his frown.
Don’t worry, Cassie sent to him. You’ll figure it out, too. Look how long it took me to make it work.
Brandt sighed audibly. I’m sure you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m proud of you.
And I of you…for finally beating Broland.
Brandt smiled. “I did finally beat him.”
“You cheated,” Broland grumbled.
“What?”
“Yeah. When you smashed my head into the wall.”
“You tried to do it to me first.”
Broland grimaced, but didn’t respond.
Wharton gripped both boys by the shoulder, squeezing hard enough to make them wince.
“While such tactics appear unseemly, fighting is seldom a gentlemanly affair.” The captain of the king’s elite guard looked from Brandt to Broland. “If your life is on the line, you must be willing to do anything to overcome your opponent.”
Broland nodded. “I understand.”
“Good. If anything happens to your parents, you’ll find yourself with a crown on your head. I can think of nothing that makes a better target for enemies than a crown.”
Brandt’s eyes locked with his sister’s, but he kept his thoughts to himself. Oftentimes, he felt jealous of his brother’s defined role as crown prince – the attention, the preferential treatment, the prestige. Then, there were times like this where he was reminded how much he valued the freedom of not having a crown hovering over his head.
3
The Sky
“Turn around so I can see how you look.” When Brandt turned toward her, Cassilyn smirked. “Aww. You’re so pretty. If I was into girls, I might want to kiss you.”
Brandt’s brow furrowed. “But you’re my sister.”
Cassie laughed. “You know what I mean.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I do.”
“This dress is even better than the last.” Cassie eyed the skirts, yellow and ruffled. Her gaze rose and found curves, the chest stuffed to fill it out. Long curls fell over Brandt’s shoulders, black and glistening, partially covering his face. “And the wig, where did you get it?”
“I found it in Duchess Illiri’s room when she was here this winter.” He couldn’t contain his grin.
“You stole it? She had to notice.”
“Oh, I’m sure she did. However, I knew she wouldn’t make a fuss. To do so would have told everyone that her hair is fake.” He chuckled again. “Illiri is far too vain to let that news out.”
“True,” Cassie agreed.
“Besides, she had two other wigs.”
Brandt spun about, sending his skirts flaring with the twirl. Cassie suspected that he secretly enjoyed wearing the dress. It had been his suggestion, both this time and last. He grabbed a short black cloak and slipped it over his shoulders before pulling the hood up. When he turned toward her, his face was shadowed.
“How do I look?” he asked.
“While you look the part, your voice is too low.”
Two octaves higher, he asked. “How do I look? Am I beautiful?”
When he batted his lashes and pouted, she laughed in response. “You are a vision to behold.”
With his voice still high, he chimed, “Good. Now, let’s be off.”
He opened the parlor room door and peeked out before stepping into the hall. With an over-exaggerated sway to his hips, Brandt sauntered toward the door that led to the square outside the castle. Cassie turned, hurried down the corridor, and darted out the side door.
The courtyard beside the castle was covered in shadows, the sun now low, painting the clouds in orange and red hues. Sliding her hand from the sleeve of her gray cloak, Cassie examined the rune she had drawn, ensuring that every line was true, solid. She shut h
er eyes and latched onto the anxiety in her stomach, feeding it until she sensed a tumultuous energy surrounding her. With her mind, she reached toward the Chaos, embracing it as it came flooding in. Instantly flush from the heat of the raging storm in her veins, Cassie opened her eyes and stared at the rune on her wrist. Before the dam inside her burst, she opened it and let the energy flow out, into the rune. It glowed bright red, pulsed briefly, and faded.
A wave of exhaustion hit her, almost causing her to stumble. Her stomach then flipped as gravity loosened its grip. If not for the weight of her boots, the cloak, and the pack she carried over her shoulder, she knew that she would float into the air and be carried inland by the ocean breeze. She eased forward and peered around the corner.
Brandt, dressed as a woman in a black cloak and yellow dress, sauntered toward the guards at the gate. From across the plaza, Cassie heard a male soldier greet Brandt.
“Hello, miss.”
“My,” Brandt answered in his high voice. “King Brock employs such handsome guards.”
“Um…Thank you…what’s your name?”
“April. My name is April.”
The other guard approached Brandt. A woman. By her posture, Cassie knew it would be trouble.
“Is that so, Miss April? I don’t recall seeing anyone named April on the list of guests.”
Brandt stopped and put his hands on his hips, feigning frustration. “Are you calling me a liar?” His head bobbed side-to-side with expressed attitude. “Do you not think I know my own name?”
The woman stepped closer. “I think your lies extend far beyond your name.” She grabbed Brandt by the arm and reached for the hood, which he held tight.
“Help! Help! I’m being accosted!” Brandt screamed, sounding amazingly like a girl.
Cassie looked toward the wall and found the guards stationed atop it had shifted toward the main gate, both now watching the commotion below.
Brandt’s voice rang in her head. Now, Cass. Go now!
She gritted her teeth, took a breath, and darted forward. Glancing to the side as she ran, Cassie saw the woman tear Brandt’s cloak away, the wig coming with it. Brandt cried out and fell to the ground, flailing about like a fish on shore. All eyes were on him as laughter came from the guards.
The Arcane Ward (Wardens of Issalia Book 2) Page 2
