by H. L. Burke
The heartbond still lay dormant in the recesses of his mind. This was the longest it had remained quiet. Even when he probed for it, intentionally sending emotion through to Arynne, he felt no response. Did that mean it was finally fading? And if so, should he accept that?
Closing his eyes, he remembered when the heartbond had first taken hold and her love and acceptance had flowed through the magical link into him. For one precious moment, he’d felt truly wanted and needed—before it all toppled down on top of him in the form of his father’s rage. Even if it were the right thing, the thing meant to happen, he’d regret losing that, and he’d savor her connection to him as long as he was allowed it.
A jolt of agony cut through him, and he bolted out of his seat.
The men playing cards stopped and stared at him.
Cold trickled through Kay’s veins, starting at the top of his head and flowing towards his feet until his whole body shivered in spite of the nearby fire.
Frole’s brow furrowed. “You all right, Kay?”
Uncertain, Kay opened his mouth to respond, but darkness swirled around him like smoke filling the room. He cried out and reached for his magic. It sparked to life in his hand, illuminating a small circle of light before him.
“Athan, I’m warning you,” he shouted into the murk, “if you think you can take me, it won’t end well. I’ll die before I—”
“Kay!” a weak but familiar voice echoed through the fog.
Kay stiffened. “Arynne?” Her name escaped him in a frantic hiss. “Where are you?”
He latched onto the heartbond. He could feel her. Close. He tried to pour his presence into her, to assure her he was near, that he was coming, but his warmth was met with ice.
Kay staggered forward a step. He pushed with his magic, sending a wave of light before him to scatter the fog.
There!
Quivering, Arynne huddled on a cold stone floor. Frost crusted her body, making her dark braids appear gray, her garments stiff with ice.
He bolted towards her, only to be jerked back. The mist closed about him. It wrapped around his arms, holding him fast, keeping him from her. Gritting his teeth, he strained against the bonds.
“Arynne!”
She raised her face, but her eyes were rimed shut with crystals of ice. Dark smoke wafted from her skin, and her whole body trembled.
“Arynne!” Kay’s heart shattered.
She was hurt, under attack, and he couldn’t reach her. Desperate, he drew his magic out of his core and into the heartbond. It surged through him until his skin burst alight. The magic reached out like vines growing towards her. It twined across the stone floor and latched onto her.
Love surged through the bond, and for a moment she stopped shivering. Her pinched features relaxed, and he could feel her pulse once more beating in time to his.
Then the darkness gripping his arms tightened its hold. A roaring wind, cold and foul like a breath from a tomb, pushed him backwards. Fog rolled between Arynne and Kay. He couldn’t see her. Their connection weakened.
“Arynne!” he growled. He tried to access another wave of magic, but cold clamped down on his heart.
“I warned you, boy. If you don’t join me, you will lose everything.” The mist solidified into the skeletal visage of Athan. The sorcerer’s dark eyes glinted within his gaunt face. “You still have time. Ally with me, give your blood to speed my return, and I’ll tell my servant to loose her hold on your beloved.”
Kay’s heart pounded until it hurt. “I have no reason to trust you.”
“You’re running out of time. She’s fading, freezing from within as the dark spirit planted in her heart devours her magic and lifeforce.” A cruel smile crossed Athan’s thin lips. “But maybe I’m wrong and the girl means nothing to you, not enough to betray a father you hate.”
“There’s another way.” Kay searched his mind for their heartbond. It still tied him to her, but it was faint, weak. How had he been so stupid? He should’ve known something was wrong when she’d stopped reaching out to him through it. Now that he knew, though, he could reconnect with her, send his magic through to strengthen her ... save her.
However, even as his magic surged to life, a wave of cold stopped it dead.
“It’s too little too late.” Athan smirked. “At this distance, with the bond already weakened, and her so far gone, you aren’t strong enough. You’ll be able to keep her breathing maybe a few more hours, but it won’t be enough to uproot the darkness or thaw her blood.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a menacing but somehow still shrill tone. “She’ll die, alone in cold and darkness, knowing that you didn’t care enough to save her.” He reached for Kay with a hand as thin and gnarled as an owl’s talons. “I only need a little of your blood. Once I’m through to your world and have had my revenge on your father, the girl will be released.”
Kay inhaled a desperate breath. He couldn’t trust Athan ... but he couldn’t let Arynne die. He could save her, though. Somehow he knew if he could get to her, if he could channel his magic directly into her, she’d live ... it’d cost him everything, but she’d live.
Resolve strengthened his magic, and he glared at Athan. “Darkness take you, you Ever-cursed husk!” With a shout, he released his power, blasting Athan into the haze. The darkness disintegrated into ash. Firelight and warmth surrounded Kay. He staggered forward a step before crashing to his knees.
“Kay!”
“Starwarden!”
“Sir!”
Feet pounded across the wooden floorboards.
Frole grabbed him by the shoulders, yanked him to his feet, then pushed him unceremoniously into the chair he’d been sitting in before the darkness appeared.
Kay blinked several times, his head spinning.
Arynne?
The heartbond flickered like a candle flame in the darkness of his mind. Terror bled through into him. He tried to send her courage and hope, but her fear did not abate. She was frightened, incoherently so.
“What’s going on?” Idyne tilted his head. “You jumped up screaming like a maniac, and now you look as if you just watched your brother fall through the ice.”
Kay swallowed. He needed to go back to the Starspire ... but the moment his father saw him, he’d order his wardens to take Kay into custody, awaiting probable execution. He wouldn’t have a chance to see Arynne, let alone help her. He hid his face in his hands. He could travel part of the way, but not the whole way, and with her room warded, not directly to her. “I had a vision ... Princess Arynne is in trouble. I can help her, but I need to get to her.”
“And you can’t go home,” Crede murmured.
“But I need to! I need to get to the palace at the Starspire ... but my father.” Kay tugged at his hair until it hurt, trying to force a clever idea out.
“Are you sure, Kay?” Frole asked. “A vision is simply a dream you take seriously. You can’t risk your life based on a nightmare.”
“I’m sure.” Kay forced himself to his feet and hardened his expression. “It’s more than the vision. I feel it. I can’t explain, but you have to believe me, this is real. She’s in trouble, and if I can’t get to her, it’ll get worse.” His voice wavered in spite of his determination to stay strong. “I can’t let her die.”
The three wardens exchanged a look. Frole shrugged his eyebrows. Idyne nodded. Crede let out a long breath before also nodding. The group of them faced Kay, and Frole stepped closer.
“How close do you need to get before you’d be able to travel to her?” Frole asked.
Kay scratched at his beard. “I know for a fact that her bedchambers are warded against traveling.”
Crede’s eyes widened, and Idyne smirked.
Ignoring the heat rising into his cheeks, Kay continued. “However, there’s a good chance my father had the entire royal wing warded since I left. Trying to travel into a warded area won’t kill me, but it’ll be like running into a brick wall. Probably knock me down, maybe out, and I’ll be hard p
ressed to keep going after that point, so I’d rather avoid it.”
“But you still can travel into the palace, so where do you want to start from?” Frole pushed.
Kay stood and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Assuming I’m traveling into the servants’ area a floor below the royal wing, I can make it from anywhere near the palace... maybe from a street or two away, but I’ll be exhausted if so, and I’d rather save my energy.”
“Would the warden training grounds work?” Frole rubbed at his bottom lip with his knuckle, brow furrowed as if he were doing complicated calculations in his head.
Kay’s shoulders relaxed. “Yes. That would be perfect.”
“We can get you there,” Idyne broke in. “Might have to smuggle you through in a sack or a barrel, but it’s doable.”
“Once you’re there, though, I can’t promise we can help beyond that, Kay.” Frole dropped his gaze.
“But we’ll try!” Crede piped up.
“I couldn’t ask for more.” Kay gripped Crede’s shoulder. “It’s already too much of a risk and for any lower stakes than Arynne’s life, I wouldn’t ask it of you. I’ll owe all three of you a debt I’ll never be able to pay—”
“Considering how many times a mission would’ve gone frostbit without your starcasting magic, I’d say if anything, this is us paying off a debt to you.” Frole clapped Kay on the back. “Come on, sir. Let’s go save your girl.”
Chapter Eleven
Evyd slammed his fist against the side table, shaking his tumbler of honey wine and splashing it over the polished wood. Across the sitting room from him, Friya arched a cynical eyebrow. Annoyance and magic sparked within him, and it took all his willpower not to throw a starbolt straight at her teeth.
“Easy brother,” she murmured in her insufferably placid tone. “It won’t be much longer now.”
“How can you be so calm?” Evyd sneered. “If the girl dies, we’re as good as dead.”
“The girl is a back-up plan, and while I like to have options in case my first strategy goes wrong—layers of options, for that matter—I refuse to panic while what I feel is the best answer to our difficulties is still available to us if only we wait a while,” Friya answered. “I’ve never liked depending on some foreign princess to save our kingdom, and I don’t think we’ll need her. If we can secure Prince Kajik as a sacrifice, we can complete the binding ceremony and prevent Athan from returning.” Friya brushed invisible wrinkles from her skirts. “We won’t even need the girl at that point.”
“But we can’t sacrifice him unless he violates his life oath.” Evyd scowled. “The boy is far too selfish and cowardly to risk himself by returning.”
“Never underestimate the influence lust and foolish love have on the young.” A cold smile quirked Friya’s lips. “He will return, brother, and when he does, his life is forfeit.”
Evyd sipped at his wine. He wanted to believe his sister. If there was one thing he could count on, it was Friya keeping her options open.
A tapping rose from the door to Evyd’s study. “Father, are you in there?”
“Come in!” Evyd shouted. He sat up a little straighter as the door opened and his son entered the study. Olyn had been uncharacteristically useless since the girl had fallen ill, rarely leaving her bedside. That he’d finally emerged could mean that the girl had taken a turn for the better ... or the worse. One glance at Olyn’s face, and Evyd’s chest tightened.
Red rimmed the prince’s eyes, and his shoulders slumped. He glanced at Friya, and his mouth wrinkled in displeasure. “I was hoping we could speak alone.”
Friya tilted her head. “And what can’t you speak of in front of your aunt?”
“It’s about Kajik, about the banishment.”
Rage spiked in Evyd’s soul. “There’s nothing left to discuss on that matter.”
“Yes, but ... with Arynne—” Olyn angled away from Friya. “Really, sir, I’m asking for a few minutes with you alone, to speak my piece. We’re running out of time and—” Pain crossed his face before his expression hardened. “Please. I need you to listen.”
Evyd glared at Olyn. He opened his mouth to snap that there was nothing Olyn could say to change his mind, but before he could speak, Friya stood.
“I need to check in on Clindt, anyway. I will see you this dimming at dinner, brother.”
She glided from the room, her absence doing nothing to ease the tension in the atmosphere.
Olyn shifted from foot to foot. “Arynne’s not doing well. She’s delirious, crying out in her sleep as if in pain—or terror, maybe both. I think we’re going to lose her, Father.”
Evyd drummed his fingers against the side table, the vibrations rippling through the remnants of his wine. “And what does this have to do with your brother?”
Olyn drew a deep breath then spoke in a rush. “I want you to consider lifting his banishment so that he can return before she’s gone. If only to say good-bye.”
Evyd grimaced. So much weakness, and this was his so-called good son. Had to be Brenna’s influence clouding the bloodline. Well, Olyn was moldable, at least. His desire to keep the peace and protect those beneath him could easily be used to keep him under control. Swallowing his contempt, Evyd asked in an intentionally calm voice, “And why would I do that?”
“Whatever you think of Kay, whatever happened between him and Arynne, even you have to know how much he loves her. They’re a heartbond, for Ever’s sake!” Pain sparked in Olyn’s blue eyes.
“If she meant so much to him, he’d be here already, then.” Evyd shrugged. “He has to have felt her distress through their bond.”
“Arynne was keeping it from him, controlling it somehow.” Olyn frowned. “She said she was certain he didn’t know.”
Evyd sat up straighter. That might explain why Friya’s plan wasn’t working. The Solean princess was made of firmer stuff than Evyd had imagined.
“I want to send for him, to bring him here to see her, but I can’t in good conscience do so, knowing it would mean his death.” Olyn took a step closer, his voice rising a desperate pitch. “Please, sir, for all your issues with him, he’s still your son. If she dies with him never having had a chance to say farewell, it’ll destroy him.”
“If she dies, the prophecy comes to naught, and we’ll all be dead.” Evyd snorted. “I don’t see how your brother’s feelings should factor into that scenario.”
“I have to believe we have hope, that the Ever doesn’t intend for us to fall into darkness, but Father, I can’t keep this from Kay.” Olyn’s face pinched in agony. “If he finds out that I knew Arynne was dying, that I had the ability to reach out to him, to warn him, and I didn’t, he’ll hate me, and I’m not sure I’d blame him. I’d have cost him his chance to say good-bye to the woman he loves.”
“Then tell him.” Evyd knocked back the last bit of his wine and reached for the carafe to pour another thumb.
“But if I tell him, he’ll come here, and his life will be forfeit.” Olyn’s fists clenched. “It’s an impossible choice, and I lose my brother either way. Please, sir, whatever you feel about Kay, put it out of your mind. If you have any love for me, don’t force me to choose between preserving my brother’s heart or preserving his life.”
Setting down the carafe mid-pour, Evyd hardened himself and glared at Olyn. “Love is weakness, and I have no allowance for that. I will admit, Olyn, I have a fondness for you as my heir, and a need for you in that without you my line will end and the kingdom will die, but love only clouds judgement. A king cannot afford to be swayed by emotion. The choices I make have life or death repercussions for every man, woman, and child in Frorheim. It’s why I could show no mercy to my own brother when he led a rebellion against me. It’s why I cannot let my siring of Kajik distract me from the fact that he’s a danger to this whole kingdom, and it’s why you, as a future king, need to learn to make choices that will destroy those closest to you for the good of those who depend on you.”
Olyn’s mouth o
pened and closed, and for a moment, regret swelled within Evyd’s chest. As necessary as it was, he took no pleasure in hurting the boy. He stood, crossed the room, and gripped Olyn’s shoulder.
“You have to choose, and whatever you choose will hurt, but it will teach you that sacrifices must be made for the good of the kingdom. Whether you would have that sacrifice be your brother’s life or your brother’s heart, well, that’s up to you.”
“I hope you’ll reconsider, sir,” Olyn whispered. “You’re wrong about Kay. He deserves better than this, and I pray that at some point you understand the mistake you’ve made in treating him like you have.”
Evyd’s jaw set hard. How dare the boy tell him how to raise his son? Before he could shout at him, however, Olyn stepped back and traveled out of the room, leaving only a hum of magical energy in his absence.
Grunting out his frustration, Evyd strode to the door and yanked it open. The young warden on guard duty snapped to attention.
“You!” Evyd pointed at him. “I need you to bring a message to Starwarden Jaxon for me. Tell him to double the guard around the palace, especially the royal wing. If Prince Kajik is sighted, keep him from leaving the palace at all costs but don’t approach him until you’ve informed me and Lady Friya.” He cracked his knuckles. “If he breaks his life oath, I want to deal with him personally.”
Chapter Twelve
“When you said you would smuggle me into the palace in a barrel I thought you were joking,” Kay grunted as he settled into the wooden container. It was just big enough to hold him, though his knees were against his chin.
“Easiest way.” Idyne settled the lid in place. Kay winced as Idyne hammered the lid down, the sound echoing through Kay’s skull like thunderclaps.