Nightfall: Book Two of the Chronicles of Arden

by Shiriluna Nott

  Gib had joked on more than one occasion about how the highborns in Silver City enjoyed such extravagant lives that they’d lost the ability to see the beauty surrounding them—that they’d never appreciate it unless it was suddenly gone. Joel swallowed, shaking his head. It works the same way with people. I didn’t appreciate what I had with Gib, and now he’s gone.

  Sighing, he sat down on a bench beneath the shade of a tree. Peering straight up, he saw purple fruits growing among the spiny leaves. Birds, hidden from view, sang in the branches far above. Or perhaps they weren’t birds at all. Maybe they were cockatrices. He supposed he couldn’t really know without catching a glimpse of them.

  For a time, he merely sat there, watching the grass dance in the gentle breeze. Despite the palace walls looming behind him, it was easy to feel removed, as though he were the only person left in the world. If he closed his eyes, he could almost believe he was sitting in the inner courtyard of the Adelwijn estate on a beautiful summer day, family nearby and Gib by his side. They sat together, hands intertwined, laughing over some tasteless joke they’d heard at the Rose Bouquet the night before, with not a worry in the world.

  Joel couldn’t help the whimper that escaped his throat. I’ll never have that again. Cenric was right. If I become an ambassador, I’ll see all the beauty the world has to offer. But what good is all of that if I have no one to share it with? I don’t want to be alone—

  Quiet voices beyond the hedge line caught his attention, pulling him out of his forlorn reverie. Two people were talking—or rather, one was sobbing while the other attempted to calm her.

  “I can’t do it anymore,” cried a young girl. “I just can’t!”

  “Shhh. Calm down, Kenisha,” replied the soft voice of a boy. “Tell me what happened.”

  Joel leaned a little closer to the hedge. He knew he shouldn’t be eavesdropping—for a second time that day—on what was surely meant to be a private conversation, but if he got up and walked away, he’d be heard.

  More sobbing ensued before the girl was able to catch her breath. “It’s him again!”

  “Has he—hurt you?”

  The terrible silence left in wake of the question made Joel shudder.

  “No. Not yet anyway. But I know he plans to. It’ll be just like what happened to Daphne!”

  “Daphne? What happened to her?”

  “He—he started giving her attention. He told her she had certain obligations as a servant. He said she needed to fulfill all her duties.”

  “He hasn’t the right—”

  “Oh no? And who was going to take a stand and tell him so? Daphne was a lowly servant. To disobey him would have only sealed her fate sooner.”

  “What happened?”

  The girl sniffled again. “She did as he wished. Kept her mouth shut about it, of course. But then the pregnancy began to show, and—and he dismissed her. He sent her home to her family on the outskirts, beyond the protection of the dome, just as the onslaught of winter arrived.”

  Another bout of miserable silence lingered in the air. Joel realized he’d been holding his breath only when fire began to burn down the back of his throat and into his lungs.

  Finally, the male voice came again, just as quietly as before, but heavy with resolve. “That won’t happen to you. I promise.”

  “You can’t know that for sure! What if it does? I can’t be banished like Daphne. I have no home left to go to. If I’m sent beyond the barrier—I’ll die out there on my own, Kirk!”

  Joel’s brow furrowed. Kirk? The same Kirk who’d shown them to their meal earlier? The apprentice of the Archmage? It had to be. Joel tipped his head closer to the hedge.

  “Listen to me,” the boy replied, confirming Joel’s suspicions. He recognized the mage trainee’s soft tenor voice from their first meeting. “In two more years, I’ll be done with my apprenticeship. I’ll be earning my own purse, and I promise the first thing I’ll do is get you out of this palace. I swear it on our mother’s grave.”

  “Two years?” Her anguished voice cracked.

  “I know. I know it’s a long time, but I can’t earn my title any faster.” He gave a deep sigh, like wind cutting through the trees. “What if I try to get you reassigned? Perhaps my master could use another servant girl. He’s not the kindest man, but at least you wouldn’t have to worry about—mistreatment.”

  “No. He already hates being saddled with you. Asking for a favor would only make your own life more difficult. I can’t ask that of you.”

  “You’re my sister,” Kirk replied. “You can ask anything of me, and you know it.”

  “You’ve done enough for me already. When the mages came to take you to the palace, you fought for me to come, too. I’d be out on the streets if it wasn’t for you. I’d probably be dead—or worse, working in a brothel.”

  “I saved you from one horrible fate only to put you in danger here, too!”

  “It’s dangerous everywhere. At least here I don’t have to worry about starving. Or freezing to death. You remember how it was outside the barrier, don’t you? For now, I’ll take my chances serving him rather than fighting to survive out there. But if he continues to—”

  New voices carried on the wind, interrupting the siblings. Someone was approaching.

  The girl’s voice came again, fast and hushed. “I have to go. You’re supposed to be looking in on your charges, and I’m late to the kitchen. We both stand to be reprimanded if we’re caught here. Stay well, brother.”

  “Be careful, Kenisha.”

  Joel could hear the sound of hurried footsteps on stone pavers as the girl made her retreat. He stood to leave, too, feeling as though he’d already lingered longer than was strictly necessary, but froze in place as a new voice bellowed from beyond the hedge.

  “Kirk Bhadrayu!” a brash voice called out.

  Kirk sucked in a sharp breath.

  “Oh, look, Brutus,” snickered a second voice. “It’s your favorite mage trainee!”

  The first newcomer issued a snort. “My favorite trainee to torment, perhaps.”

  “Hello, Brutus. Hello, Taichi,” Kirk replied after a moment, voice timid and possibly even a little frightened.

  Joel listened as the other boys’ footsteps drew nearer, until they were so close Joel himself took a step back. They were right on the other side of the hedge; he could have reached out and touched them.

  “What are you doing out here?” the first boy demanded. “I thought Master Titus told you to go make sure our guests from Arden were pacified.”

  “Yeah!” said the second boy. “Why aren’t you checking on the envoys?”

  Kirk went silent, and Joel realized the trainee didn’t have an excuse to give the other boys. Kirk’s sister had warned they both stood to get into trouble if they were caught conversing. Was unfair and unnecessary justice about to be served? Would these bullies torment him if they found out the truth? Or possibly worse, would they tattle on Kirk to the Archmage? Adrian Titus didn’t seem to be the type of man anyone should cross.

  Joel wrung his hands together, feeling terrible for the young man. Kirk had been the only one to show any genuine kindness to the Ardenian envoys since their arrival, and now he stood to be unfairly reprimanded. But he’s done nothing wrong! He was comforting his sister! Will he really get into trouble for such a petty offence?

  “I–I was.” Kirk’s smooth voice had gone choppy as he fumbled for an excuse.

  “Oh? Then explain why you’re out here. Or perhaps you’d like to explain it to Master Titus.”

  “No, please, I was just—”

  Joel had heard enough. He wasn’t sure what he planned to do, even as he slipped through a break in the hedge line. But he couldn’t stand there and just let the poor boy get into trouble when it was so clearly undeserved. Joel straightened to his full height and set his nose high in the air, morphing from humble ambassador to haughty Ardenian highborn in the blink of an eye.

  “He was helping me,” Joel declared
as he stepped into the full view of the Imperial youths. Kirk jumped and whirled around to look at him, green eyes wide. Joel smiled tightly before turning a fierce stare onto the other boys.

  The two burly, square-faced boys had Kirk cornered against the shrubbery. They’d been scowling at their quarry, but when Joel announced his presence, both took a tentative step back, uncertainty etching their faces.

  “Greetings,” Joel called out to them. All trace of warmth had drained from his voice. “I heard angry voices through the hedge, so I came to see what the fuss was about.”

  “Who are you?” one of the boys asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He wore a white tunic lined with golden lace, the same as Kirk’s, leading Joel to assume this youngster was also a trainee.

  “My name is Joel Adelwijn, mage and ambassador of Arden. Kirk Bhadrayu was kind enough to help me retrieve a trinket I misplaced while sitting in the garden earlier,” Joel replied without hesitation. He extended one hand and motioned toward his bare fingers. “You see, I lost my ring. It’s been in the Adelwijn family for generations and is very important to me. Kirk was just checking to see if it had fallen into the hedges, since I spent so much time admiring them earlier.” Thank The Two I forgot that damn ring in Arden. Joel looked Kirk straight in the face. “Isn’t that right?”

  Kirk’s uncertain eyes flickered back and forth between his peers and the Ardenian envoy, and for a moment Joel worried the boy might not follow along with the ruse. After a tense lull, however, Kirk nodded stiffly and responded. “Yes. That’s what I was doing. I was helping Lord Joel Adelwijn find his ring.”

  “So you see, gentlemen, no crime has been committed here.” Joel’s voice was cool as he leveled the two instigators.

  The boys floundered. “Uh, well, I—we were just—”

  “I think you were just leaving,” Joel finished the sentence for them in a clipped voice, imagining that he must have sounded every bit as pretentious as his uncle. He stuck his nose farther into the air and his scowl only grew more severe. “Unless, perhaps, you’d like to get onto your hands and knees and help search for my ring, too?”

  The boys exchanged wide-eyed glances with one another, and Joel might have laughed at their distress if the situation hadn’t been so serious.

  “We have lessons to attend,” one of them managed to sputter.

  “Our master would be unforgiving should we be late,” said the other.

  Joel nodded. “That’s a shame. Surely four sets of eyes searching would have been more efficient than two—but, of course, lessons are of the utmost importance. You best be on your way so Kirk and I may resume our mission.”

  “Y–yes, Ambassador.”

  Both boys scuttled away without another word, and Joel grinned quite devilishly at the backs of their heads as they departed.

  After the boys were well out of earshot, a shuddering sigh escaped Kirk’s lips. He stared at the lawn, as though his attention was held there against his will. “Thank you, m’lord. You didn’t have to do that.”

  Joel frowned, still watching the pathway to ensure they were alone. “Yes, I did. If there’s one thing I cannot bring myself to do, it’s turning a blind eye to injustice.”

  Kirk shook his head, still refusing to look up. “Sometimes it’s easier just to shut your eyes and close your ears, especially in this city, where injustice is so commonplace.”

  “Perhaps walking away would have been easier, but I’ve never been one to take the easy road.” A forsaken smile flitted across Joel’s face as he thought about the trials and tribulations he and Gib had faced—and conquered—together. “Sometimes the path less trodden leads you to wonderful places you never expected.”

  Kirk did raise his eyes now, hesitantly meeting Joel’s gaze. “If only all men could be courageous enough to choose such a path,” the boy replied in a voice so quiet it verged on a whisper. Uncertain green eyes fixed onto Joel’s blue ones. “The conversation with my sister—”

  “Won’t be mentioned to anyone. I promise.”

  Color finally returned to Kirk’s white cheeks. “Thank you. If my master found out—” He stopped there, and Joel judged it wise not to push the subject further.

  Joel motioned for Kirk to follow him through the hedges and back into the garden. “Come. We best get out of here before anyone else happens upon us. I’m fresh out of excuses to make.”

  Joel’s last remark finally won a smile from the other boy. Kirk smiled as he slipped through the break in the shrubbery. “I can’t argue that.”

  “Who were those buffoons anyway?” Joel asked as he brushed bits of dirt and broken bark from his white robe.

  Kirk’s cheeks flushed red anew. “Fellow apprentices. Master Titus currently has four understudies. Brutus and Taichi were the two you just had the ‘honor’ of meeting.”

  “Honor indeed,” Joel laughed.

  The young Imperial raised a hand to his mouth, attempting to cover the smile spreading across his face, and it yet again occurred to Joel how little every other person in the Northern Empire tended to show such pleasantries.

  Kirk’s eyes flickered around the private garden. “This garden has always been one of my favorites on the palace grounds. At times when no guests are being housed and the suite lies empty, I often come here to study without worry of being disturbed. I like the serenity. When I’m out here, it’s easier to forget my hardships.”

  Earlier that morning, Joel would have doubted this boy, living in a vast and beautiful palace and training with one of the most powerful mages in the land, knew the meaning of true hardship. But after listening to the conversation between Kirk and his sister and witnessing the treatment of the trainee by his fellow students, Joel had no reason to doubt his proclamation. Just because someone lives amongst kings doesn’t necessarily make them royalty, too. And people who possess everything they could ever desire can still feel empty inside. It’s never wise to judge someone by their outer shell, for it’s often just that—a shell, a mask, a clever façade.

  “I understand,” Joel replied. “Sometimes it’s easier to lock yourself away from the world, rather than face it.”

  Kirk turned to stare at him. “Yes. Sometimes the pain of loss is too much to bear.”

  The pain of loss. Joel’s stomach twisted into knots. He missed Gib so much in that instant it hurt. Oh, Gib. I messed everything up. I tore our souls apart and left him to pick up the broken pieces. By the light of The Two, I hope he can forgive me—

  Cenric’s voice drifted out to where they were standing just then. “Joel? Are you ready to go over the notes from the meeting?”

  Joel turned his head in the direction of the suite, desperately trying to harness his wild emotions. He couldn’t see his mentor from where he stood but heard quiet voices as Cenric and Hasain conversed inside the common room. They were waiting for him.

  He stole a glance at Kirk, wondering if they should even be talking like this. Would Cenric or Koal be angry if they noticed Joel wasn’t alone? The mage trainee seemed genuine, but he was still an Imperial and, therefore, a threat. Joel bit the inside of his mouth as he fretted. Hasain warned me to trust no one. But it’s not like I’ve said anything I shouldn’t. Isn’t it okay so long as I’m not revealing anything? All the wisdom he possessed screamed of the others’ disapproval. This interaction wouldn’t be encouraged by them.

  “I—should go,” Kirk said, following Joel’s gaze. No doubt he’d also heard the voices of the other envoys and perhaps even realized he and Joel stood to get into trouble. “Archmage Titus will be expecting me soon.”

  Joel managed to nod. “Yes, all right. I think that would be best.”

  Kirk turned to leave but looked back over his shoulder long enough to smile once more. “Again, thank you. It’s rare to be treated with such kindness.”

  Joel bowed his head. “Farewell.”

  He sighed, closed his eyes to recollect his thoughts, and then returned to the suite.

  The sun had sunk below the western
horizon a mark earlier when Gib found his way to the Rose Bouquet. He didn’t feel like drinking and dancing tonight, but he was fairly certain he’d find at least one of his friends here. He’d gone back to the dormitory, but Tarquin had been absent. Gib waited for his roommate for what felt like an eternity, but when he still didn’t return, Gib sought out Kezra instead. Truthfully, she was the better option anyway. Tarquin meant well but often lacked the insight she possessed. Gib hoped Kezra could offer some sound advice.

  The merry music met him on his way through the doors but did nothing to lift his spirit. Inside, he was bombarded with the usual smells of delicious food, strong drink, and perfume. Laughter and singing engulfed him, beckoning him to join in, but Gib couldn’t even lift his mouth into a smile. When a bar maid made eye contact, he waved her off. He didn’t feel like drinking anything. Gib peered around the tavern and despair rose up through his chest when he didn’t see any familiar faces. Where was Kezra?

  Gib was so intent on finding her that when a large hand clapped his shoulder, he nearly jumped through the roof.

  Nawaz’s crystal eyes sparkled as he followed Gib’s gaze onto the dance floor. “See somethin’ you like out there?”

  Gib swallowed, trying to ignore the ache in his heart. “Trying to find anyone I know.”

  “Oh. Poor luck, that. You only managed to find me.” Nawaz laughed, and Gib wished he could laugh, too. But he just couldn’t. Nawaz seemed to pick up on it and lowered his voice. “Is everything all right?”

  Gib’s chest suddenly felt heavy. He could barely open his mouth, and his eyes burned with terrible sadness. Were his emotions really running this rampant? He took a breath and tried to speak, but no words would form.

  Nawaz seemed to understand. He squeezed Gib’s shoulder in a gentle way. “Kez and I are sittin’ over in the corner. Nage and his girl are around, too. Why don’t you come sit with us?”

  “Thanks. That would be—nice.”

  Gib followed the young lord to an empty booth, where they took seats opposite one another. Nawaz studied Gib for a moment, and he could tell now, being face to face, that Nawaz’s merry mood was something of a façade. His eyes had lost their shine in a matter of moments and his face appeared drawn.