by Chad Queen
The king backed out of the hand but was not heavily invested. Cade could tell that the king’s game was off now that the deck was no longer stacked in his favor. That left Cade and the general.
The general spent some time silently regarding Cade, studying him for any clue that might give him an advantage. Then he spoke. “Now what’s a soldier like you want with the Shard?”
Cade, without hesitation, said, “To finish what we started.”
The man paused and looked Cade in the eye. He snorted a laugh. “I’m all in.”
The general at this point had amassed a great deal of money, almost as much as Cade. And they hadn’t even seen the borrower card yet. It was a bold move.
Cade had a great starting hand—three gold phantoms. It was the best starting hand in the game. “I’ll call,” he said, taking care to keep his voice steady.
The dealer turned over their cards. The general had three wraiths—the worst starting hand in the game. Why would he choose to bluff with such a bad hand? Even before the borrower card was flipped over, everyone knew that Cade had won the hand.
The general stood up and bowed to the king. Before he left, he leaned over to Cade and said, “Nice job with that shuffle. You got balls, son, I’ll give you that. Just be sure you don’t go and lose them. Good luck.” He clapped his hand on Cade’s shoulder and left the table.
Only the king and Cade remained. The king had spent the last hand studying Cade. The king suspected Cade was using some advantage, but Cade took care not to reveal anything. Nobody could really know what he was doing, because as far as he knew, no one since the Ancients had encoded with Rynthium.
As they played hand after hand, Cade could see the king’s Song begin to change. The smoke gradually became denser, more tumultuous. Cade interpreted it as the king becoming increasingly angrier, though the king concealed it well. It was apparent he was not used to losing. Cade made sure to lose a hand here and there, but it didn’t seem to affect the king’s darkening mood much.
Once the next hand was dealt, Cade encoded to the Rynthium ring. Except this time, nothing happened. Damn, he thought, my phantoms are quiet. He had been so absorbed in the game that he had not been paying attention. Rynthium seemed to use a lot of a phantom’s energy; much more than the materials he was accustomed to encoding with.
Cade tried not to give away his initial alarm. He looked at his cards. Two wraith cards and a blue phantom. Not a great starting hand. After glancing at his cards, Cade put his bet on the table. The king seemed to sense that something had changed. “My, that’s a bit conservative,” the king said, raising the bet.
Cade paid him no mind and called the raise.
The dealer put the field cards on the table. Cade tried to hide his displeasure. With these cards, there was almost no chance of winning the hand. I can still bluff him, he thought.
The king, his dark green eyes fixated on Cade, raised the bet. Cade tried to remain stone-faced but could feel a bead of sweat on his forehead as he matched it.
I can still win this. All I need is another blue phantom card. The dealer placed the last card on the field: a gold phantom. Cade’s heart sank.
The king smiled, as if he could sense Cade’s predicament. The king raised the bet again, still staring at him.
Hells, Cade thought. He folded.
The deal swept the accumulated chips to the king’s pile. The king bellowed out a laugh. “It appears your luck has turned. I can see right through you, boy.”
Cade ignored the comment. I can do this. Just have to calm down. He remembered a lesson his father had given him long ago.
“Who do you think you are fighting?” his dad had said, side-stepping one of Cade’s strikes. Cade, breathing hard, didn’t answer and twisted around with a heel kick. It met with nothing but air. His father pushed Cade in the opposite direction of his momentum, knocking him down. Cade grunted, angry now, and lunged again with a flurry of strikes, each of which his father blocked.
“You’re not fighting me, I can tell you that much,” his father said. Cade pushed forward, but his father raised his hand. “Enough. Your effort will only continue to exhaust you.”
Cade paused and caught his breath. “You’re too fast. I can’t land anything.”
His father grinned. “You can’t land a strike because I am not your opponent. You are fighting yourself.”
Cade furrowed his brow. “I don’t understand.”
“You’re letting your emotions control you. Timing, precision, coordination, and strategy all go out the window when you allow fear or anger to dominate you. Losing these key abilities weakens your ability to fight.”
“But don’t our emotions also give us strength?”
“Yes, the right ones do. But you must choose how to shape and channel them. Use an emotion that opens your eyes, not one that closes them. Use it as an anchor against fear and against anger. Once you can master this, you will become a true martial artist.”
Cade nodded.
His father fell into Bearer stance. “Now, let’s try again.”
Cade took a deep breath, clearing his mind. He thought of Ashlyn, who had already risked so much for her kingdom, to the extent that she went against her own beliefs. He latched on to the emotion that invoked within him. There was a purity in doing the right thing, no matter the price. His anchor in place, he looked at the next hand the dealer had dealt him. Two gold phantoms. Not bad. He raised the king’s bet, but not by much. He wanted to goad the king into thinking Cade’s hand was weak.
“Very interesting,” the king said, still grinning.
Cade continued to think of Ashlyn and her sacrifice. He met the king’s gaze, Cade’s eyes now guarding his thoughts. The dealer placed the field cards down now. Two more gold phantoms. A very strong hand now for Cade. He kept his anchor feeling at the forefront of his mind, using it as a shield.
The next card landed on the table. A gold phantom. Cade would win this hand. He looked up and saw Ashlyn in the crowd, worry etched on her face. His eyes met hers. She is so beautiful, he thought. But it wasn’t her autumn-brown hair, her bright green eyes, or how she looked in the shimmering gown of gold. It was the beauty of the Song that played within her, each note perfect and whole. He turned back to the king, meeting his eyes once more. Cade smiled.
The king furrowed his brow and studied Cade for a full minute. The entire ballroom had fallen silent. Not even a hushed whisper could be heard as everyone waited for the king’s next move. The king laughed. “I’m all in.” He threw down his cards, two silver phantoms. A very good hand.
But not good enough. Cade set his cards down on the table, and the audience roared to life with yells and applause. The dealer nodded to Cade and held her hand toward Cade. “The winner of the Crossfort Ball Tournament is Cade Elegy, Protector of the Realm.”
The blood looked as if it had drained from the king’s face, and Cade could tell the man was straining to contain his gathering fury. Cade had to be careful. He had won. If he pushed his luck too far, the king might decide to risk the scandal of arresting him now.
The Master Treasurer made a show of bestowing the Shard to Cade. It was presented within an intricate pressed leather sheath, replete with royal embossing. The Treasurer pulled the Shard out and hoisted it high in the air for all to see. The Shard emanated a faint blue light, and its iridescent surface shifted with the light. It was sleek and long, the tip revealing its distinctive shattered edge. The base was affixed to a man-made handle and hilt, giving it the appearance of a broken sword.
The ceremony itself felt awkward and not well rehearsed, but Cade figured this was the first time they’d ever had to do it. The audience roared its approval as Cade took ownership of the Shard. The event would be the talk of Toltaire for quite some time.
The king watched the ceremony in silence. Afterward, he strode over to Cade. He feigned a friendly look and shook Cade’s hand in front of the crowd. He leaned in to Cade’s ear, and over the din of the crowd, said, “You w
on’t live the night.” He leaned back, his smile genuine and sinister, and applauded along with the crowd.
A woman’s voice sounded within his mind.
Connection established.
28
Rendezvous
While publicly disavowed by the Royal Guard, the Interceptors in Toltaire are nevertheless a very real counterintelligence force in the capital city. The fact that so little is known about them is a testament to the Interceptors’ efficacy.
—From Seats of Power: Toltaire
The moment the ceremony ended, Ashlyn’s tenuous smile retreated, and she grabbed Cade’s arm. “We have to hurry.”
Cade nodded. She could not believe he had done it. She hastened him through the crowd, leaving behind a wake of stares and whispers. They collected his casters and their coats from the storekeeper and headed out through the busy courtyard.
Outside were Elon’s carriages. They would most certainly be followed by Interceptors, the elite royal military unit integrated into the city’s expansive spy networks.
The goal was to throw their pursuers off course by winding different carriages through the labyrinth of streets that littered Toltaire. The city streets over the past decade had devolved from a well-manicured and organized layout to a sprawling cacophony of lanes, boulevards, streets, and highways. The sprawl would work to their advantage. Elon had placed her other carriages in strategic locations across the city to aid in confusing their pursuers.
“See you at the rendezvous, Cade.” Ashlyn smiled at him, and he nodded back. She entered the first carriage, and Cade entered the second carriage, following Elon’s earlier instructions. The idea was to make it hard for their pursuers to focus on one target. Plus, if Cade didn’t have to worry about Ashlyn, he could escape if they cornered his carriage.
She ducked inside, and the carriage took off. She glanced out the window behind her and was relieved to see that no other carriages seemed to give chase.
A bundle of clothes lay neatly packaged on the seat, so she began changing out of her evening gown. She looked at the gown one last time as she finished buttoning up her shirt, remembering her dance with Cade in the great ballroom, twirling and gliding across the dance floor. As princess, she had danced at many balls like this one, but this time felt different. Before, the suitors that had been arranged for her seemed disinterested. They were more interested in garnering status and favor with her father than with her. Though she was perpetually pursued, she had always felt alone. But that dance with Cade…she had felt connected to him. She shook her head. No, thoughts like that would have to wait. There was work to be done.
As they weaved through the city, they came to an abrupt stop. She slipped out under the hidden hatch in the bottom, dusted herself off, and made her way to the rendezvous point.
The old steel factory came into view. It was still in service, but Elon knew the owner, and they planned to all meet up once they could each assure they were not followed.
She ducked into the alleyway, casting a quick glance behind her. She knocked on the back door four times and waited.
The door creaked open, and she was overjoyed to see Jace.
“You made it!”
“Yes, I did, and not a tail in sight.”
“And the Shard?” Elon asked, turning her chair toward Ashlyn.
Ashlyn nodded.
Elon shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe it worked. When I heard that Devin was captured…” Ashlyn’s smile faded as she remembered the agent who had been discovered by Father’s men. Elon regained her composure and held up her chin. “He was a good man. We will avenge him through our deeds.”
A knock sounded at the door. Ashlyn grinned, eager to see Cade, and moved toward it.
Elon whispered, “Wait.”
Ashlyn paused, glancing at Elon.
Only three knocks.
Elon beckoned Ashlyn toward her. “Move!”
They heard a loud bang as someone tried to kick in the door.
“Over here!” Elon led them down a ramp to the lower level of the mill. “Get inside and bar the door.”
Above them, the heard a loud commotion as men began streaming into the room. “Down there!” one of them shouted. They disappeared into the room, and with Jace’s help, Ashlyn hoisted a thick metal beam across the large door.
“That should hold them for a while,” Elon panted. “Of course, we’re trapped down here, so I don’t know what good it will do us.” She shook her head. “Someone sold us out.”
Ashlyn remembered what had happened to Rolan. The city couldn’t keep a secret. Not for long. They heard pounding on the door, which was made of solid steel. It would hold.
Jace paced about the room. “Is this the forge?”
“Yes,” Elon said, pivoting toward him.
“This is an older forge, by the looks of it,” he said as he walked up to a massive domed chamber that stood in the center of the large room.
Jace opened the door, and Ashlyn saw his face light up. Inside was a device the size of a wine barrel, with thick tubular wires crisscrossing its surface. It had the telltale geometry of a first-generation Ancient device.
“Ashlyn, come here and give me a hand.”
“Why, what do you want to do?”
“Science.”
29
Pressing On
While a variety of artifacts are still being uncovered, none have yet matched the unique beauty of the Shard of Rynth. The Shard’s purpose, like most Ancient artifacts, is still unknown. But another big question haunts archaeologists: where is its other half?
—From Chipcoins to Levitating Trains: Artifacts of the Ancients
A member of the Order was waiting inside the carriage. “Master Elegy,” the man said. “Permission to depart?”
Something felt off to Cade, but he couldn’t place it. He still was shaken by the strange voice he had heard earlier.
“Sir?” The man looked at Cade.
“Yes. Let’s go.”
The man rapped on the side of the carriage, and they were off at full gallop down the streets of Toltaire.
Cade had just settled into his seat when the world around him began to disintegrate. Pieces of it shattered, swirled, and faded into the void. Soon, Cade was all that remained, standing upon the infinite plain of the Firmere. He saw a pinpoint of light off in the distance. The light rushed to meet him, stopping only a few feet from him. He realized it was the Shard before him, without its handle, vertical and suspended motionless in the air. A bright glow emanated and pulsed around it.
“Hello, Cade. I am EosFor, but you may call me Eos. I have been waiting for you.”
The voice was a woman’s, strong but calm, with an almost lyrical quality. Cade took a step forward. “What…or who…are you?”
“I am of The Seven, created to combat the Wraiths. When the people you call the Ancients left this world, they predicted the return of the Wraiths. I was left behind to protect you.”
“Are you a phantom?”
“No. I am a machine. My components and circuitry exist in the Firmere. Like the casters you possess.”
He recalled the light that had emanated from his sidearms when he encoded to Rynthium. Like the casters?
“The same,” the voice said.
Cade looked up. “You can read my thoughts.”
“If you and I are in direct contact, yes. I took the liberty of pairing us earlier. It will allow for enhanced communications.”
“Enhanced communications?” He recalled the artifacts that had activated whenever he was nearby. “You’ve been trying to contact me, haven’t you?”
The Shard…Eos, pulsed at that. “Yes, I have been trying to reach you for some time. My access is restricted, however.”
“Why find me?”
“Predictive analysis. I observed citizens through the networks still available to me. I weighted selection based on the following criteria: phantom affinity, combat ability, morality, courage, wisdom, and expendabili
ty.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Expendability?”
“You have no significant ties or relationships. There is nothing to make you hesitate when confronted with a dangerous scenario,” said Eos. “You have nothing to lose.”
Cade fell silent.
Eos continued, “There is much at stake, and we are running out of time. The Wraiths are working to activate an Ascension gate. We must work together to ensure that does not happen.”
“Listen—”
“Detecting a rapid body heat fluctuation from the man sitting next to you. Exercise extreme caution.”
Cade found himself wrenched out of the plain even faster than he had entered. He looked at the man next to him, who now held a gun to Cade’s head.
“Hells,” Cade cursed as the man pulled the trigger. Cade had encoded to tungsten, and the bullet glanced off his hardened skull. He swung at the man, but his fist just clanged against the man’s own encoding.
Eos’s voice rang in his mind. A Bearer. Only one phantom detected, she advised.
It would have been nice to know that before he tried to shoot me, thought Cade.
Sensors had not yet calibrated, said Eos.
The man kicked at Cade, switching his encoding to diamond to force Cade out of the carriage. Cade encoded to lead and held his ground. The man howled in pain as the bones in his foot were crushed by the strength-assisted kick.
Cade threw his weight into the man and sent him flying from the carriage. The carriage nearly tipped over as they sped through the streets. Cade ducked his head back inside as the edge of the carriage scraped along the wall of a narrow alley.
Unable to get the door open in the tight space, he smashed an encoded fist into the roof of the carriage, splintering the wood. He hoisted himself out of the new hatch and looked down to see the driver had jumped from the carriage. Straight ahead, a blockade of Interceptors had been constructed. He reached down and pulled the pin that held the two carriage horses in place, freeing them.
