Book of Sacha: Dark Fate (The Dark Fate Chronicles 3)

by Matt Howerter

  “Only if I am successful,” Sacha corrected.

  “I have faith.”

  The absolute certainty of his pronouncement arrested her motion. She had never known such a man that would put his reputation and position on the line based on little more than trust in her. Her father had never uttered even a single word of approval, and Renee, flattering and attentive though he was in private, was always aloof in public, preserving the secret of their tryst. This kind of trust, this kind of love had been her fondest childhood dream. What a bitter pill it was that she had only found it by usurping her sister’s life.

  Alexander was not quite done, though. “You have more support than you think,” he said. “It is the way of politics to reserve that support until a moment of mutual advantage presents itself.”

  “How convenient for them,” Sacha said churlishly.

  “You’re lovely when you pout, do you know that?” He laughed. “Do not despair, my dear. All you require, and more, will be made available to you.” He sobered as he looked past her to the now-vacant High Seats of the king and queen. His next words were much softer and half to himself. “I should check on her.”

  Sacha frowned slightly at Alexander’s sudden shift in mood. “Your mother, you mean?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “As you know, my father has been quite ill for the past few years.” Alexander paused as if not sure how to proceed.

  “Has something happened?!” Sacha sank into her seat once more, taking up his hand.

  “No,” Alexander answered hastily. “He is as he has been... slowly declining. None of the physicians can say how much longer he has to live. It had been my hope that he would recover enough that you might come to know him, but now I fear that will never be.” He hesitated again.

  Sacha had of course seen King Roderick several times in the past few months, but he had never had the strength to speak. Sacha was fairly certain that if there was one person in the entire kingdom who had no inkling that Sloane had been replaced, it was the king. Alexander and Rhian had been ruling in all but name for years, and Rhian had been visibly stepping farther and farther back in the past months.

  “I fear for Mother’s health as well,” Alexander finally continued.

  “What can I do?” Sacha asked, moved by the strain in his face.

  Alexander shook his head, seemingly at a loss. When he looked into Sacha’s eyes once more, he startled her by saying, “I know you miss your sister, my dear, but would you believe that I miss her as well?”

  “What do you mean?” Sacha asked, truly curious and a bit concerned. She had never met the prince before becoming Vinnicus’s puppet, she was certain. What could this man miss about a woman he had never met?

  “She had been training with the mages to the north,” he answered.

  The butterflies that had taken flight in Sacha’s stomach settled. She knew what he was about now but still had to play her role. “Yes, of course. What of it?”

  “The mages have great power, which of course you already know. Your sister might have been able to restore my father to a state that was close to the man he once was. Then you could have met him properly.”

  “I see,” Sacha said in false contemplation. She knew full well that the powers of the Shamonrae could be wielded to patch broken flesh as well as rend it. She had learned some of the art over the past few months, in fact. From what Sacha had seen of the king’s condition, though, she wasn’t sure if she possessed the level of skill to be helpful. If her suspicion of Vinnicus’s involvement in the king’s failing health was true, then it was likely that nothing short of Eos’s own hand could save the king. The elusive comments of the monster had certainly not been a comfort.

  “But what of the mages themselves?” Sacha asked. Anything she could do Teacher could do better, faster, and likely while juggling vipers.

  Alexander shook his head. “Gone.”

  Chills paralyzed her into open-mouthed shock. When she had recovered enough, she managed to stammer out a reply. “Wh-what do you mean, ‘gone’?” She cursed herself for the stupid way her voice sounded and managed to continue in a more measured tone. “You must be mistaken. Where would they go?”

  Alexander dropped her hand and settled back in his chair with a dejected cast to his handsome features. “Would that I knew, my love.”

  Sacha shook her head in disbelief. The mages wouldn’t just up and leave; it wasn’t in their nature. They had maintained a steady presence in the north since her people’s recorded history began more than five hundred years ago and before, even. It didn’t make sense. “How did you come to this conclusion?”

  The frustration held in his eyes took on a slightly sheepish tinge. “I sent several Rhadoken to the Monastery to ask the mages for aid concerning my father’s condition and your sister’s disappearance,” Alexander answered. Then with a touch of bitterness, he said, “There was no one there.”

  Sacha took a moment to let the words sink in. She had seen only one other person besides Teacher during her better than two years of isolation and study, although she knew for a fact that others did live in the remote edifice. Perhaps the scouts had simply missed the others. “How could they be sure everyone was gone? Sacha had told me that she had seen only two people during the entire length of her stay.”

  Alexander shook his head. “They went inside after no one answered their calls. It was reported that they found pots and pans still sitting in the kitchen. Furniture with blankets and pillows still arranged neatly, but every soul and anything to do with the knowledge they possessed was gone as if they never existed.”

  Sacha fought not to slump in her chair, although her every nerve was jangling from the enormity of this news. Alexander had attained the proof she hoped was not there to find. “When did you do this?”

  “I sent the riders just after your encounter with the grahl,” the prince said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. We were not...in the best place at the time, and I needed to find some answers—”

  She stopped him with a gentle touch on his shoulder. “I understand, my husband. You needn’t apologize. I only wish to know when the mages disappeared.”

  Relief graced his face in the form of a small grin. “I couldn’t say, honestly. It was foolish of me to send the Rhadoken in the first place. The cold of the north and the ice wyrms do not mix well with the Rohdaekhann.” Alexander frowned as he spoke further. “Only one returned, and that was long after I had sent them.”

  The despair in his voice was painful to hear. “I’m sorry, husband,” Sacha said, filled with her own sorrow. “I wish I could explain the fear and doubt that had gripped me during that time. I’m sorry I was part of the reason those brave men and animals died.”

  Alexander sighed. “We all have our parts to play in tragedies such as these. To grieve and learn from our mistakes is all anyone can really do during the aftermath. We must move on with what knowledge and hope we have.” He fell silent, worrying at his problems.

  Sacha watched the concern cloud his features as she considered all he had told her. The Monastery, empty? The fear that thought sent worming through her was almost a match to the first time she had been confronted by Vinnicus. It was a terribly hollow feeling to lose security and hope that she didn’t even realize she had been clinging to. She wished Alexander had shared this information with her earlier, though she honestly had no clue whether it would have changed anything. To be sure, she had not encouraged the prince to be candid with her about anything in the past half year. Suddenly she was ashamed at the way she had treated him.

  None of Sacha’s situation was of Alexander’s making. Yes, he had arranged the marriage to Sloane, but it was a good match for the human kingdoms at a time both realms needed each other, no matter the overarching thoughts of the populace. Kesh and Rouke had both told her the prince genuinely cared for Sloane and had done so from a time well before the wedding. Reliable rumor said Sloane had come to care for him as well. It was easy to see why. Handsome, smart, and talent
ed, Alexander would have been on many women’s short list even without the title of prince. With it, he was any woman’s dream come true.

  Her thoughts turned to yesterday afternoon when they had returned from their flight. Not just any woman’s dream…

  Sacha rose to her feet suddenly, seizing Alexander’s hands and drawing him up with her. She was so tall that she almost looked him in the eye. When he stood, their noses were so close that they almost touched, but Sacha didn’t feel crowded. She reached up to lightly stroke his face.

  His hazel eyes softened at her touch.

  “Come,” she said. “Let us check on your mother and father. In the face of so much we don’t know, let us at least take care of family.”

  The queen’s muffled voice called through the bedchamber door, “Come.”

  Alexander looked at Sacha before opening the doors. “Thank you for doing this.”

  “You needn’t thank me, my husband. He is my family, too.”

  He leaned in and kissed her. His lips were soft and passionate.

  Sacha returned the kiss with no small amount of passion of her own. Her decision to commit to their relationship in fact as well as in fancy already seemed a distant memory. Each passing kiss and special glance felt more natural and right than the last.

  Alexander broke away from her and breathed, “We must go.”

  She nodded silently.

  The air that rolled from the door he opened was musty and carried the scent of night soil and death. The mental image that wafted through Sacha’s mind was one of chaos and decay, but the room they entered was meticulously clean, though dim. The king’s fading life clung to everything in the room like a haunting shade coloring item and person alike with a sickly pall.

  Rhian sat next to a large four-poster bed. Though Sacha had seen her just moments before, the queen did not appear to be the same person. Creases and shadows had deepened on the older woman’s face, adding years, if not decades, to her age. Sacha couldn’t help but think the stress of the king’s failing condition might well take the queen’s life as well.

  The queen looked up as Sacha and Alexander approached, her eyes sunken and void of spirit. “Hello, my dears.” Her wan smile did not match the warm words.

  Sacha hurried to the queen’s side and took her hand.

  Rhian gave her a weak smile then looked over at the bed. The old woman took a breath to shake off her despair and straightened before she spoke. “I present to you Roderick Ventus, King of Basinia, Lord of the Falls, and Keeper of Terrandal.”

  Sacha curtsied for the sake of the ritual implicit in the introduction. When she rose to look on the man covered in heaps of blankets, he didn’t look very much like a man at all. The wrinkled skin was drawn too tightly around the bone underneath and was more gray in color than pink. Wisps of white hair stuck out at odd angles from the speckled scalp, and what remained of a pale beard ran jaggedly along the jawline to end in a mangled tuft at the chin. The king might already have been a corpse if not for the slight movement of his chest as he drew breath. Sacha could understand Alexander’s concern, as well as that of the physicians.

  “He was a powerful man at one time,” the queen said faintly. “A dream.” Rhian looked at her husband with a mixture of fondness and sorrow.

  Sacha could understand the woman’s loss. She had lost her family, though in a different way. She wasn’t sure what was worse—having them abruptly torn from her arms, never to be seen again, or watching the slow fade into death. If Vinnicus was indeed involved with the king’s condition, as he had been with her own suffering, the pale monster was worse than she had initially believed, impossible though that seemed.

  If only I could make him stop, Sacha thought. She reached out with her mind to touch the king with her power. Instantly she knew that whether Vinnicus had begun this process or not, the king had gone too far, decayed too much for her to do anything at all. Sadly, she withdrew the arcane sense and reached out with her hand to gently touch the king’s arm.

  “You have done well, Roderick,” Sacha said impulsively to the sleeping man. “Your people are happy. Your realm is prosperous. Your son and your wife do you proud, though they miss you dearly.” She reached up and brushed an errant wisp of hair from the wrinkled brow. “I regret that I did not have the chance to meet the man who inspired such loyalty in his kingdom.” Sacha patted his frail arm lightly. “I am thankful for every day I have the opportunity to stay here, amongst your family.” Sacha swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in her throat and blinked back the moisture in her eyes. “Thank you for giving me a life I never thought to have and a family I didn’t realize was possible. I owe you as much, if not more, than your people do.” She leaned over and kissed Roderick’s forehead. She could hear the soft whisper of breath as it fought free of his old lungs. Straightening, she whispered, “Thank you.”

  Rhian wept openly while Alexander held her and gently patted her long, silver hair. He then lowered his moist face to lay his cheek on his mother’s head, and they stood there, supporting each other in their grief.

  Sacha gazed at the old king and thought about what she might have done had she been here earlier and known more. She was seized with a thought as she waited for Rhian’s sobs to subside. This will not be Teacher’s fate. Sacha had no way to know if Vinnicus had a hand in the king’s failing body or not, but she knew she had to try to interrupt the creature’s hold on her mentor. Whatever had been done to him could be undone with the Shamonrae, and Sacha thought she might be able to enlist her teacher in the undoing of his prison even without his knowledge.

  Sacha chased the logic of her problem as the queen’s crying grew softer. Vinnicus had altered Teacher’s mind, even his very will. Her mentor was being forced to do something he would not do otherwise. In order to understand how to undo what had been done, it stood to reason that she needed to understand how to recreate the same condition. She knew already that mind control was one of the forbidden arts at the Monastery. This would be permissible, though, she reasoned, because she didn’t want to learn it to use it, she wanted to learn how to defend herself and others against it.

  Whether the Monastery had forbidden it or not might be a moot point, however; if Alexander’s scout was correct, the Monastery itself might be no more. Her mind quailed again at the magnitude of the thought. Nothing in the world possessed power enough to cause the mages of the north to just disappear. Vinnicus had neutralized Teacher well enough, but an entire castle filled with mages wielding arcane power? That seemed unlikely, though she couldn’t deny the possibility. She certainly had no other notion that could hope to explain Alexander’s news.

  Sacha shook the thought, disguising her shiver with a low sob. She needed to move quickly, but where could she find subjects to practice on? The prisons of Waterfall Citadel were no good. She had no reason to go there, but even if she did, it was unlikely she would be able to work with the prisoners unobserved and unquestioned. In addition, she had no clue how to begin the process of entering another mind, though Teacher himself could most likely provide a starting point. She just hoped it wouldn’t take too much time for her to learn what she needed to know to free him. Time felt short already with the Wildmen spreading through the countryside. The prospect of learning another use of the Shamonrae completely unknown to her was a daunting thought indeed.

  A sudden idea came to her—a way she might gain the practice she needed and find the hidden leadership of their enemies with one stone’s throw. She needed to leave this sick chamber and get to work.

  Almost as if he had heard Sacha’s thoughts, Alexander released his mother from his embrace. “We must be off, Mother. I’ll come back later to check up on you.” His hand reached for Sacha, and she stepped into his arm.

  Rhian smiled fondly at them before turning back to her diminishing husband. “Thank you, my dear children. Thank you both.”

  Sacha wanted to run from the room, but she forced herself to walk, dividing her thoughts so she could enjoy the
closeness of Alexander’s strong body while also racing ahead in search of the keys to Teacher’s freedom and ultimately her own.

  What that freedom looked like had changed today. Now that freedom included a prince.

  A soft knock on Sacha’s study door pulled her from the thick tome that contained the histories of Waterfall Citadel’s creation. Even though Kesh was absent, Sacha continued her studies of the Basinian culture. This work in particular had caught her eye because its pages dated back to a time when elves and men walked hand in hand in friendship, sharing one another’s discoveries and dreams. Terrandal had been the crowning achievement of that fellowship, a statement of never-ending brotherhood. Never-ending turned out to be short lived, even by human standards. A sparse two generations had passed before the brotherhood had devolved to a general hostility that threatened to become a civil war. Communication with the elves still existed in Basinia, amazingly, but it was a far cry from what it had been. Despite Sacha’s heritage, she thought it a shame to lose such a friendship that could create something so splendid and grand as the Citadel.

  Maybe one day things will change, she thought with a sigh. She closed the book, marking her place for later study with a thin strip of dyed leather. “Come in.”

  Joshua, one of two burly soldiers that guarded her suite, entered and snapped to attention. The man’s gravelly voice matched his heavily armored frame when he spoke. “Armsman Rouke has arrived as you bid, Princess.”

  Sacha had suspected as much. She’d heard the delighted giggles from her handmaidens in the next room. The girls enjoyed flirting with the soldiers, especially Rouke. Not because of his looks; he wasn’t the most attractive of men. What he did offer was safety, reliability... and, she had to admit, a certain amount of charm.

  Rouke stepped through the open door to stand just behind Joshua in his customarily relaxed pose. He didn’t look lazy, exactly, just confident in his ability to handle whatever might come.