by RJ Metcalf
Zandra’s gaze darted from Roney to Cole, then to Vincent. “Talking about Lady Sapphire?”
“Yeah, Cole was friends with her family back when they were kids,” Roney explained, gesturing at Cole. The smirk Roney shot him held more sympathy than the usual teasing over an epic lost love. “It’s been a chaotic day.”
Vincent leaned forward before Zandra could reply, his ponytail draped over his shoulder. “Wait, what happened? I’ve been moving into my new home all day, and haven’t been paying attention to any news.”
Cole looked up at Zandra and tapped the rim of his mug while directing his words to Vincent. “Sapphire was poisoned yesterday afternoon. She nearly died.”
“Sapphire, as in the second prince’s, wait, the crown prince’s wife?” Vincent’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “She nearly died? How did she survive?”
Zandra tucked a brown strand of hair behind her ear and crossed her arms. “My brother was there, so I know a bit. It was a close call, but Slate brought a healer who managed to pull her through. I don’t know anything else.” Her tight lips indicated she might be lying, but Cole’s relief was too sharp for him to care right then. Zandra continued, her fingers tapping the table, “As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I need to take your orders.”
Roney and Vincent apologized and told her their preferred drinks, and she whirled away to the bar. She returned a moment later with a fizzing blue concoction that she slid to Vincent, a fresh ale for Cole, and a froth-topped mug for Roney. A customer called for her, and she left.
Vincent shook his head and leaned back in the booth. “Wow. The wife of the prince poisoned.” His brow furrowed. “Didn’t the first prince’s wife die last year, too?”
“Princess Rose,” Roney supplied. His shoulders sagged. “She died in childbirth. The hardest battle of them all.” He raised his glass in silent toast, and Cole joined him with his mug.
Vincent drummed the table with his slender fingers. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it, then opened it again. “How did Lady Sapphire come to be poisoned? Could it be from someone inside the palace? I wouldn’t think a woman of her high social standing would have enemies who’d want her dead.”
“You’d think she’d be safe, but marrying into royalty is like putting a target on your back,” Cole muttered. “It was only a matter of time until something happened.” He scrubbed his hand along his jaw as he exchanged looks with Roney. His friend’s face flushed darker as he stared into his own mug. Cole shrugged. “I don’t know how anyone got close enough to poison her. It’s the question I’ve been thinking about all day.”
“And why her?” Roney glanced over his shoulder, dropping his voice as he leaned over the table. “Why not someone like Prince Richard? Whom people don’t have much fondness for right now?”
Roney lifted his fingers off the table. “Have you heard the recent rumors?” He continued when Cole and Vincent shook their heads. “Our garrison chef mentioned it to me: What if, instead of Violet marrying Richard, the one who had been married to her sister, what if she married Brandon?”
Cole blinked. “But Brandon is already married.” To Sapphire.
Roney lifted his eyebrows pointedly with a bare nod. “Exactly the problem.” He shrugged and stretched his arm along the back of the booth. “But what if that’s what’s at play here?”
Could it have been an inside job? It would make sense, in one regard. If the motive was for Violet to marry Brandon instead of Richard, then Sapphire would have to die. His heart seized. Would they try again? What about her baby? Would the child need to die too? Was Slate in any danger, or was it all focused on Fire?
Victor finished off his blue drink and set the empty mug on the table with a satisfied sigh. “At least they were able to get to her in time and save her.”
“Yeah, but they almost didn’t make it.” Roney replied, his tone harsh. “The castle got locked down and they were stuck on the outside. I don’t know how, but they somehow got inside in time for their herbalist friend to save her.” Roney shook his head, cobalt eyes impressed. “She got lucky.”
“Wait, wait.” Vincent held up his hand to pause the conversation. He looked at Roney, his eyebrows knit together and face slack in confusion. “The castle was on lockdown? Didn’t they realize they were cutting off help?”
Something clicked in Cole’s mind when Vincent asked that question. He looked up, eyes burning with the smolder of anger. “They say the order was to trap the would-be assassin inside. But did they find anyone? No. And you know who ordered the lockdown?”
Cole leaned forward, prompting the other two men to mimic his action. “Richard.”
“That’s a confirmed fact.” Roney glared at the table.
Vincent looked at Roney for confirmation, his eyes widening when Roney nodded. Vincent looked back at Cole, lowering his voice. “Are you suggesting that Richard wanted her to die? And how did her brother get in with the healer?”
Cole shifted side to side, trying to stretch and ease up his tense muscles. “I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say that Richard was behind it. But closing off the palace was stupid. It’s a miracle that Slate’s friend got in. I still don’t even know how.” Cole curled his hand into a fist. This conversation was stimulating thoughts he didn’t want to entertain. Not until he had proof. Or at least more evidence.
And while he trusted Vincent because he was one of the Captain’s rescues, he wasn't fully comfortable about sharing everything with him just yet.
Roney hunched over his mug, his broad shoulders casting a looming shadow over the wood. “The timing is suspicious for an inside job,” he pointed out. He raised both eyebrows when Vincent and Cole looked at him. “Think about it. The palace doctor left earlier yesterday morning to tour the southern city and get rare herbs or meet his former apprentice, or whatever the excuse was. Then she got sick. Someone knew there’d be no doctor.”
A pit grew in Cole’s stomach and his skin prickled. “And he only went yesterday because Richard wanted him to get it done and over with, instead of waiting for next week.”
Vincent nodded idly in thanks when Zandra swapped the empty mugs in front of him and Roney with fresh drinks. Vincent looked concerned. “This is turning into quite a conspiracy theory here. Why would Richard do that? What’s his motive?”
“It’s not a consp—” Cole broke off, reflecting on the entire conversation. He shook his head and lifted his mug to his lips to hold off on his response. Maybe it was a conspiracy theory. One that was starting to make sense.
“Who knows why?” Roney shrugged. “We all know he’s crazy—Selvage is proof of that. I wouldn’t be shocked if he was jealous over Brandon having his own healthy family, and he just snapped.” Roney paused, blinked twice, turned to look at Cole, a crease in his brow. “But he’d gain the benefit of Brandon being single. Because they’d both be eligible to marry Violet then.”
Cole digested the idea before shaking his head. “Brandon already has an heir. Richard doesn’t. Though Richard is the first prince, and has been raised to be the crown prince, by Doldran law and tradition, Brandon having an heir now makes him the crown prince. King Rupert hasn’t formally announced the change, but we all know the law. If Richard wants to guarantee his own throne, who would stand in his way? Only his brother and his brother’s heir. Richard still needs to marry and have an heir of his own.”
Roney and Vincent stared at him. “But why attack Brandon’s wife and not him, himself?” Vincent asked. “Wouldn’t killing Brandon be more … permanent?”
Cole’s head hurt as he clicked snippets of conversation between him and Slate together. It actually made sense to some degree—and that was scary. “Brandon was nearly killed last year when he was negotiating with the rebels in Selvage. And do you know whose jurisdiction that was?”
Roney sucked in a breath and his eyes flared open. “That’s right! That was Richard’s domain, but Brandon went in his place!”
“Wait. Why di
d Brandon go if it was his brother’s jurisdiction?” Vincent set his drink down. “Why would he go somewhere dangerous like that?”
“It wasn’t supposed to be that dangerous of a mission,” Cole explained. “It was to be a secret meeting, trying to parlay for peace. But somehow the secret leaked and the mission failed. Apparently Brandon took the mission on as a favor to Richard.”
Vincent was quiet for a long moment, seemingly deep in thought as he silently tapped the pads of his fingers against the oak tabletop. “How many knew before he left for the mission? Who could have leaked it?”
Cole stared at the stained glass window and dreaded his answer. This wasn’t a topic he wanted to discuss aloud here, especially not with someone he was just getting to know, but he couldn’t leave the thoughts in his head to fester. “As far as I know, the only people who knew about it with enough time to do something about it are few. King Rupert and Queen Victoria, Richard and Brandon, their wives, Captain Stevens, a few select palace staff …” He sighed. “My friend, Brandon’s brother-in-law, he didn’t even know of the mission until it was already underway.”
Roney spoke up. “If you’re suggesting that Richard set up Brandon, and that attempt failed …” He trailed off and pressed his lips together.
Had their men—their brothers-in-arms—died, because of betrayal by royal blood?
“And this man is set to be the next king?” Vincent demanded. “I had dared to hope that this land would be free of such tyranny like that of which I left. This is horrific.”
“Yeah, well, not much we can do about it, can we?” Roney asked glumly, swirling his ale.
Cole nodded along with Roney’s words, taking a sip of his own drink as his thoughts roiled. He’d had an audience with Richard just yesterday morning, before everything with Sapphire. Richard had had no clue about the bombs, and denied the possibility that Aerugo could be involved with the Reformers, going so far as to call the idea ludicrous.
What if there was more to that story and Richard was covering his tracks? Could he somehow be linked to the Refomers? It was unlikely. But … Cole had to talk to Slate soon.
“What if …” Vincent’s voice cut into Cole’s thoughts. He looked up to see his friend’s dark eyes glittering. “What if we could do something about it?”
The table was silent for a minute, the three men looking at each other long and hard, no one saying anything. Vincent cracked first, a small smile raising his lips up, followed by Roney’s eyes twinkling and Cole snorting. They broke into laughter, banishing the awkward silence.
“Yeah right.” Roney guffawed. “I’d rather not be labeled a traitor and executed.”
“Agreed.” Cole huffed a laugh under his breath, shaking his head. He sobered, then said quietly, “Only if things were to get worse would I even consider any notions down that road.”
Victor’s eyes glittered. “We’ll just wait and see how things develop then.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Zak
Zak drummed his hands on his desk, earning him a glare from a fellow classmate. He dropped his hands to his lap and tapped them there idly, too lost in thought to pay attention to the teacher.
Two weeks had passed since Lady Sapphire had nearly died, and all Zane would tell him about the secret passage was that it led them through the staff quarters, and no, he didn’t know if there were any other passages. Zane didn’t say if he knew how the old guy knew about it all, either. But there had to be more secret tunnels and doors in the palace. Who built only one?
Zak sat up at his desk and looked around the citadel classroom. This had been the original palace, before the keystone in the tower was used to raise the barrier. There had to be some secret passages here too. He wiggled in his chair as he studied the room.
The teacher stood at the front of the class, her chalk pressed against the chalkboard, and a large map of the world stretched across the wall to the right. He already knew what was behind that wall, and he had no interest in visiting the bigger kids’ class. The only door that led to the hallway beyond waited to the left of the chalkboard. Behind Zak was a wall of cupboards holding books and class supplies, and, to the right a large window overlooked the forest and river, the mountain range, and the barrier looming in the background.
He sagged. Probably nothing here. Then again, why would someone have a secret passageway in a classroom? It would only be useful for students to ditch class, and then the teachers would find it.
No, a secret passage, like the one the old man showed them, had to be somewhere less busy. Granted, the old man hadn’t shown him, really, but Zak had seen it all. He’d followed, thinking he was being stealthy, until Zane had given him “the look” just before entering the passageway. Zane had found him the following morning, complimented him on his improved skills of sneaking, then made him swear on his necklace to never speak of it again.
I promised not to talk about the secret door. Never promised I wouldn’t look for more.
“Zak? Can you please repeat what I just said?”
His head whipped up, eyes wide as he looked at the miffed teacher at the front of the room. He squirmed. “Umm … that we’re to be studying history next?”
All twelve students in the room burst into laughter, and Miss Grace rubbed her forehead, her lips pressed into a line. “I said that about fifteen minutes ago. Please try to keep your attention inside this room for now, Mister Monomi.”
Zak flushed and hunkered behind his desk. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied meekly.
“Thank you.” The teacher turned to face the chalkboard again, writing while she talked. “As I was saying, the Cursed came from central Terrene. We don’t know much about them, but they have what is called a ‘blood-bond,’ and the entire central region of Terrene seems to have been taken over. Then they invaded our lands in the south. Does anyone know where they invaded first?” She finished writing her bullet point notes, turning to face the class.
The room was quiet until a girl timidly rose her hand. “Sordes?”
“Correct!” Miss Grace smiled and clapped. “Excellent, excellent! Now, what stood out about this army from the north was that the people didn’t seem to be able to think for themselves during battle. They would attack without thought to their own safety, causing many of them to die quickly. Despite that, they were winning much of the battle due to their greater numbers and our lack of preparedness. Then they pulled out and left.” She walked out from behind the desk to lean against it, her skirt poofing like a large brown pancake. She pointed with her chalk to Thomas. “You have a question?”
“Yes ma’am,” Thomas replied, his brow wrinkled in confusion. “Why did they leave if they were winning?”
Miss Grace shrugged, her loose hair rippling with the movement. “We don’t know for sure, but we presume they left to invade the north and get more soldiers. During that time, seven sages designed and made the barrier. Who can tell me about the barrier?”
Excitement bubbled in Zak, and he jumped in his seat as he raised his hand, wiggling his fingertips in the air. He knew this answer!
She smiled at him. “Yes, Zak? What can you tell us about the barrier?”
“It’s based on Void magic. It’s a time spell, so if anyone went in, they’d be caught in time and get old really fast until they die. Same for animals or anything else. It’s what protects us from the northerners and their curse. Without the barrier, we’d all be mindless slaves.” A few boys snickered while the girl to his right looked scared. “That’s what my brother says,” Zak hastened to add on.
His teacher coughed. “Yes, well, that was quite accurate. Thank you Zak.” She shook her head and chuckled before moving to the chalkboard again.
“But putting up the barrier had consequences. Seven sages worked together to make it.” She pointed to the map. “Each sage had to be at the actual location of the barrier point, on the islands that have a barrier point and across the continent.” She traced the large circle around southern Terrene with her
wood pointer. “At the end of their work, once the barrier was complete, one sage went mad, one died, three disappeared, one lost his powers, and another lost his entire memory.”
Everyone was silent, absorbing her words. Zak nodded somberly, remembering the stories he’d heard around the dinner table.
His father often repeated the history and their family’s role, which had shifted from being a noble family, who was the most skilled in stealth and combat, to being the Guardians of the keystone. Still noble class, but freed from the noble responsibilities, and instead given special status as the protectors and defenders.
Zak fingered the green stone amulet around his neck. Some of what it meant to be a Guardian still didn’t fully make sense, but it would, eventually. “When you get older,” as Zane would say.
Miss Grace’s soft voice broke into Zak’s brief lapse of attention. “All the sages at this point in time are either still missing or confirmed deceased.” Her face shadowed with sorrow. “But we remember and honor these brave men for their sacrifice. Without them, we would not be living as we do now.” She brightened. “And we honor them annually with our holiday, the Sages’ Jubilee.
“As all of you know, upkeep and protection of the barrier is vital. Should something happen to the barrier, the southern lands could be endangered. We do not know if anyone would be able to slip through it somehow if it were weakened. If the barrier were to collapse completely, we would all be lost to slavery through the curse.”
Zak stared out the window, tuning her out again. He already knew all this due to his heritage as a Monomi. “Life or limb, we guard it.” That’s what Zane always says.
Zak grasped his amulet again, rubbing his thumb over it. And he would be like Zane someday.
A Guardian.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Slate
Slate shuffled out of the palace, squinting at the shining orb in the sky.
It had been two weeks since Sapphire was poisoned and nearly died, and this was the first day that he’d set foot outside since. He hadn’t been willing to be more than a hallway away from her all this time, insisting on testing everything for her, bringing her anything she wanted or needed, and being the protective older brother as he should have been. He hadn’t thought of it as overbearing until Sapphire threw a book at his head.