Rise of Legends (The Kin of Kings Book 2)

by Narro, B. T.

  “It was one of ours, Cleve. One of our best.”

  Time seemed to slow as Peter spoke Alex’s name.

  Peter paused then, clearly waiting for Cleve to say something, but just keeping down his breakfast was difficult enough.

  Peter went on to tell Cleve how it had happened, something about Effie and Basen being with Alex and Basen casting portals as the reason behind the attack. But Cleve couldn’t quite understand or feel anything except a deep devastation that threatened to overwhelm him if he didn’t contain it.

  The Redfield bell dinged, but it did nothing to draw Cleve away from his inner battle. The ringing stopped after three loud chimes, signifying that everyone needed to meet at the stadium for an announcement.

  Peter stood and said, “I’m sure Terren will repeat what I just told you.”

  *****

  Cleve couldn’t find Reela or Effie at Redfield, but he was able to locate Steffen among the hundreds of long benches wrapping around the circular stadium. Steffen greeted him with his usual enthusiastic smile.

  “Good morning, Cleve.” He obviously hadn’t heard the horrible news.

  “What did you see when you left our house?” Cleve asked.

  Confusion took away Steffen’s smile. “What did I see?”

  “Where were Effie and Reela?”

  “I believe they were in Effie’s room with the door closed. Why?”

  Cleve couldn’t bring himself to say it. Fortunately, Terren stood in the center of the stadium and lifted his arms, showing it was time to begin. An uneasy silence fell over the crowd.

  “Last night, Basen Hiller went to the mages’ Group One training area and was accompanied by Effie Elegin and Alarex Baom,” Terren began.

  It had been so long since Cleve had heard Alex’s full name that it didn’t sound familiar. He glanced around the stadium to find sad, expectant faces.

  “Basen went there to practice creating portals,” Terren continued. “We have confirmed that he is able to make them.”

  There were no sounds of surprise, which seemed to confuse Terren. Then his face set back into the hard stare Cleve was used to. “You all must have heard this already.” Most everyone began to nod. “Then I will make the summary of the event brief to get to the important part. Alarex—or Alex, as he was known here—was killed while he, Basen, and Effie fought off a psychic attacker. We strongly believe this psychic is the same person who killed Nick. He or she apparently first thought it was Nick who’d created the portals in his room. However, it was Basen who made these portals, for he was unable to practice them in his own room because of limitations that we’re still investigating. Like the rest of us, Basen had no idea someone would kill to stop the making of these portals, so he is not to blame.”

  Terren cleared his throat and made a sweeping gesture at the thousands of students around him. “The blame goes to the one person here who killed Nick and Alex. We already have theories about who you are.” His voice rose as he continued to gesture at the audience. “You’re shorter than most men yet taller than most women. You’re stronger with psyche than our best psychics, yet you might be enrolled as a warrior, chemist, or mage. You’re in possession of black robes that completely conceal you, even your face.”

  Terren finally let down his hand. “There’s more we know about you, but I’ll stop there. This is your chance, whoever you are, to come before us and explain yourself. You will be detained and questioned, but you will live. If you do not take this opportunity now, you’ll be killed without a trial when you’re discovered—and you will be discovered. Come down here now!”

  Murmurs arose as people turned their heads to look around, Cleve and Steffen joining in. He heard Steffen whisper, “Please come out.”

  Terren repeated his demand a few more times but got no response except for the murmuring of the crowd.

  “Fine,” Terren concluded. “There’s no point in questioning loyalty, because whoever is responsible for the deaths of our comrades is able to lie to our psychics without detection. I’m adding two new rules. The first is that no one is to go anywhere alone. The second is that everyone is to stay inside their houses at night. Chamber pots are being distributed in case you need to relieve yourself. These rules don’t mean you should worry. They’re being put in place so you don’t have to worry about more deaths.

  “Battle training will continue, but if you need to speak to an instructor about anything, we’re here to help you. We’re prepared for any battle. It might not seem this way to some of you, probably many of you first-years, but it’s the truth. There’s still much training to be done for all of you to reach your potential. But even if Abith Max returns tomorrow with twice as many men as before, we’ll still be standing when he gives the order to retreat.” As usual, Terren evoked applause with what seemed like an unplanned speech.

  Cleve didn’t want to wait for his next battle. The need for revenge made him hunger for it.

  Terren told them to get to battle training, and the stadium quickly cleared.

  The person Cleve wanted to talk to most about this whole thing was Alex. He would know the right words to encompass everything Cleve was feeling.

  I’ll never speak to him again.

  This was the wrong way to think about death, Cleve knew, but he couldn’t help it.

  Grief had seemed permanent to Cleve when he lost his parents. It made the present feel like the future. “Right now” became “eternity.” He spent years believing he would never be happy again. The death of his close friend threatened to pull him back to that state, but he was a stronger man now. He knew not to run from his feelings.

  So he let the pain come. It felt like a dagger wrenching his chest. As he continued toward the center of Warrior’s Field where Group One was to meet, he cried and ached at the loss of his friend, embracing these terrible feelings coursing through him.

  Raw with emotion, Cleve noticed his fellow warriors’ surprised looks as he wept openly, but he was not ashamed. They would understand when it came time for them to grieve, as everyone must eventually.

  He realized he wanted to see Alex’s body one last time. Someone needs to speak on his behalf. Something must be said about what kind of man he was.

  There’s time for that later, he reminded himself with some relief.

  Their instructor, Sneary, arrived and yelled for the warriors to form a line. Cleve took a spot next to Sanya.

  “I didn’t know him for long,” she said, “but I’m going to miss him. I’m sorry he’s gone.”

  Cleve nodded, still too pained to speak.

  Sneary spoke in a low voice that boomed out from his slightly distended stomach. “Pay attention, Sanya. As the only first-year in this group, you’ll have to focus to learn everything that will be a review for the others here.”

  While Sneary lectured about the different formations and orders they were bound to hear during battle, Cleve found it difficult to keep from feeling dejected as his thoughts stayed on the missing member of their group. After a while, Sneary must’ve noticed that several other men were unable to focus as well, for he stopped abruptly and announced, “We’re spending the rest of the time before lunch doing team duels.”

  Cleve soon found relief in the much-needed distraction. Nothing in their training required more focus than two-on-two combat. Sneary paired Cleve with Sanya. After all the hours they’d trained together, he knew there wasn’t anyone else who would fight more harmoniously with him.

  Except Alex, Cleve sadly realized.

  CHAPTER THREE

  After Terren’s announcement at Redfield, Alabell tried to find Basen among the thousands of students leaving the stadium. He’d been right all this time that the murderer wanted him dead for creating portals and had killed Nick by mistake. She still felt shocked, though. She wanted to help Basen however she could but feared there was nothing she could do now. He was likely to be next.

  She cringed when she found him outside the stadium surrounded by ten people. What were the
y doing smothering Basen like that? No doubt this was the last thing he wanted.

  They pelted him with questions: How was Alex killed? What happened during the fight? In which direction did the attacker run? Could Basen make a portal right now?

  Alabell stood at the fringe of the group, unnoticed as she listened to him calmly answer each question as best he could. She felt annoyed for him, wanting to shoo everyone away. But if he minded, he didn’t show it. He did look exhausted, though, his dark eyes focused on the ground while he spoke. He was still handsome, she thought, with the black hair sweeping across his forehead bringing out the tan skin of his sculpted cheeks and strong chin. The women in this small audience probably were drawn to his wounded heart, some reaching out to touch the lean muscle of his arm or offer an embrace during the more severe moments of his tale.

  Penny, a familiar mage instructor, stomped toward them. “Get to training, everyone.” She swung out her arms, scattering them. “Not you, Basen,” she said as he tried to leave. “We need to speak.”

  Alabell stayed and eavesdropped.

  “I know I should’ve brought the akorell stone to you and told you about the portals,” Basen said apologetically. “You must think what I did was foolish. You’re going to tell me that my reckless behavior is why two people are dead. I already know it’s true, so if you don’t mind, I’d rather not hear it right now. I’ll give you the akorell stone, but please save the lecture for tomorrow.”

  Hands clasped, Penny waited patiently for him to finish. “I wasn’t going to say any of that. I wanted to offer you the chance to rest before training, because it looks like you need it. I can get one of your friends to stay in your house with you so you’re not alone. That’s what Effie’s doing. When you’re ready for battle training, you can join us. Even if it takes until tomorrow.”

  Basen looked surprised. “You’re not angry?”

  “I can’t be when I would’ve done the same thing you did.” Penny smiled mischievously. “Creating portals is a skill too important to ignore.”

  Basen nodded hesitantly, no doubt still expecting some sort of punishment.

  “Just bring me the akorell stone first, then you can return home and rest.”

  “I would rather stay and train.”

  She looked surprised. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I look forward to having you in my classroom.”

  As Penny walked away, Alabell approached and was welcomed by Basen’s smile.

  “What do they have you doing now?” he asked, his casual tone belying his obvious grief and exhaustion.

  She struggled to match his tone. “I’m to assist in the training of chemists who’ll be focusing more on healing than combat.” It was her specialty during the last war, but most of the other chemists had been taught to fight instead of heal. They’d been sent into combat with a belt full of potions and a sword they were barely skilled enough to use, and too many of them had perished.

  Basen didn’t seem to have a response, making the silence between them unusually awkward. The glaze of his eyes made her wonder if he’d even heard her. She went on just to fill the void.

  “Most chemists learn how to be battle chemists. These men and women are trained with the sword, sometimes on Warrior’s Field, though never with the warriors. The skill difference between the classes is too great for the chemists to benefit. Their belt of battle potions is what allows them to make up some of the difference.”

  He nodded along as Alabell spoke, but then held up his hand as if to halt further conversation.

  “I’m sorry,” Basen said. “I’m just not myself right now.”

  “Can I take you to your house?” Alabell had something more important than chemists to discuss with him, and privacy was required.

  Half his mouth twisted in a smile. “Aren’t you busy making healers out of regular chemists?”

  So he had heard her. “I’m not nearly as important as I made myself seem,” she teased. “They’re just asking me to help with that because they have nothing else for me to do. There are plenty of instructors already.”

  “None as talented, I’m sure. Otherwise, one of the instructors would’ve been the head healer at the castle instead of you.”

  “My mother and my time at the Academy have taught me well, yes. Come on, let me take you home.” She started walking and, after a moment, he followed.

  “All right, you’ve convinced me. But don’t forget that I’m younger than you are and vulnerable right now. I wouldn’t want you taking advantage of me.”

  She grinned at seeing some of his old self return. “I’ll try to refrain.”

  Away from Redfield and closer to the student houses, the Academy was quiet as all students and instructors were elsewhere. She knew this was the worst time to broach the subject of the murderer, with Basen appearing too exhausted to think, but if she was right about Sanya, then it couldn’t wait.

  “I need to talk to you about something difficult,” Alabell said.

  His eyes held worry as his brow furrowed. “What is it?”

  “Terren said something that made me wonder about Sanya. He said the murderer was tall for a woman and short for a man.”

  He stopped. “You’re telling me you think it’s her?”

  Alabell pushed out her palms. “I just think it’s a possibility because I heard someone come in through her window last night. I ran into her room, but there was no one there and she seemed eager for me to leave. I didn’t think anything of it until today when I found out what had happened during the night. Then there was Terren’s announcement about the murderer’s height…and now I can’t stop wondering.”

  Basen wrinkled his nose and looked away as he murmured the name in question. “Sanya?”

  “Have you thought about who else it might be?”

  He shook his head, still looking far off as if searching for the answer. “If the murderer isn’t Penny, I just figured he or she is someone I barely know.”

  “It can’t be Penny. She went to the Academy, then became an instructor shortly after. She would never betray Kyrro or anyone here.”

  He finally looked back at her. “But we still don’t know why the murderer would kill to stop me from making portals. The motive might have nothing to do with Kyrro.”

  They continued toward his house, their pace now slow and cautious as they looked over their shoulders. “It really could be anyone,” Alabell said, trying hard to keep her voice from shaking while uttering such a terrifying statement. “I don’t think it’s wise to confront Sanya without proof, but I just wanted to warn you in case she’s the one.”

  He bit his lip as though in deep thought. “It’s tricky because if I’m suspicious of someone who does happen to be the murderer, he or she will be able to sense my suspicions. All of my emotions, in fact.”

  They were silent again as Alabell strained her mind to figure out what they could do. The murderer was a psychic more powerful than any other, able to lie without detection, and this person was waiting for a chance to kill Basen. How would he be able to sleep until this was over? Pitying him, Alabell slipped her hand in his.

  He squeezed and gave her a prideful look, as if to say he could handle this. But his capable expression only lasted until his next breath, as he sighed and fatigue seemed to wash over him.

  “Are you absolutely certain you heard someone come in through her window?” he asked.

  “Not absolutely certain, but I don’t know what else the noise could’ve been.”

  “When was this?”

  “I believe it was only an hour or two after you left my room that night.”

  His face took on a pained look as he put a knuckle over his lips. “It does fit.”

  “Just be careful around her.”

  “I must be careful around everyone.” He gave Alabell a quick glance of suspicion, no doubt inadvertently. “I know it’s not you,” he quickly added. But just that moment was enough to make the touch of their hands go from
soothing to uncomfortable.

  She removed her hand from his and patted his back. “I’m trying not to be suspicious of Sanya, but I can’t help it. If she really is the murderer, she’ll sense it this evening when we’re home together.”

  “But if she isn’t the murderer, and therefore has no psychic ability, she’ll have no idea what you suspect.”

  “Is this what you believe, that she isn’t the murderer? You know her better than I do.”

  “I don’t know, Alabell. Although I grew up with her, she was a different person back then.” He shook his head. “Could it really be her?” he asked himself in a whisper. “I don’t see how. She helped me try to save Nick. She cried over his death for the entire night. We comforted each other. And Alex—he was her friend as much as he was mine.” Basen sounded more confident as he went on. “And if she is the murderer, wouldn’t that mean she’d have trained for years to use psyche, probably even her whole life? She had no psychic ability in the castle.”

  That you know of, Alabell wanted to say. But she was feeling less confident it was Sanya and was beginning to detest the bitterness of suspecting her friend. She’d done her part by warning Basen. That was enough.

  “It does seem unlikely for it to be her,” Alabell agreed halfheartedly.

  They were silent all the way to Basen’s house. Before unlocking his door, he turned to face her.

  “What would you do if I agreed that it might be Sanya?” he asked.

  “I would tell the headmaster or the instructor I trust the most—Chemist Master Jack. They would probably send a team to search her room again.” Alabell stopped to think. “But everyone’s room is already being searched for the second time since Nick’s death, so I don’t know what good it would do. I suppose they would take more time with hers, and hopefully they’d find something.”

  “The same thing has been going through my mind—I just don’t see much point in suspecting anyone, and that scares me, Alabell. Because if there’s no way to figure out who it is before he or she attacks again, then that leaves only one option: waiting for the inevitable. Fortunately, I don’t think I’ll have to wait long. I plan to draw out this bastard by making more portals tonight.”