The Complete Madion War Trilogy

by S. Usher Evans

  This war had taken too many people already and yet it went on without end. How many of the gravestones around us were casualties of a war that never should've been started in the first place? And how many Ravens had died?

  Today, though, this death was on my hands.

  We bowed our heads in prayer, and the funeral was over. Martin's parents stood and received their well-wishers, pale-faced and shaky.

  "Are you going to greet them?" Kader asked.

  "Once the circus has moved on," I said, glaring at Rhys. "I don't want an audience."

  "Gally..." Rhys closed his eyes and shook his head. Then he clapped my shoulder. "I'll tell Mom you'll be home for dinner."

  "Tell her whatever you want."

  Rhys left me to join my father, who made no move to speak to me or even acknowledge my presence. He made one more pass at Martin's parents, then took his contingent of bodyguards and photographers with him. Most of the funeral's attendees went with him, more interested in the king than the young man they'd just mourned.

  I left Kader and approached Martin's parents for the first time. Up close, I saw he had his mother's nose and chin and his father's kind disposition.

  "Your High—" Martin's father began.

  "No need for that nonsense," I said gently. "Martin was...he was a good man and one of my very best friends."

  His mother's eyes softened, and she gently took my hands. "He spoke a lot about you. He was very...very impressed by you. Especially after your ordeal on the island. He was honored to have been assigned to you."

  I nodded. "I'm so..." Emotion welled up in my eyes. "God damn, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that I got him...that he was mixed up in my..."

  "Martin was never as proud as when he was discharged," his father said. "He came home and told us what you had done, saving that girl. Going back to the hospital. Working to better this country." He grasped my shoulder. "We're honored that he could give his life to protect you."

  I gnashed my teeth together and nodded, needing to get away.

  We dropped Rosie off at the apartment building, but I didn't get out of the car. As angry as I was that my father had come to the funeral, I knew it was time for me to return to the castle. Even if I'd wanted to, I was just too emotionally drained to fight anymore.

  But the drive was taking longer than usual. I wrenched my eyes away from my hands and realized I didn't recognize this part of town.

  "Where are we?" I asked. "I thought you were taking me back to the castle."

  "I will, but not yet," Kader replied, parking the car in front of an old building. "First, you need to blow off some steam."

  Curious, I closed the car door behind me and followed him inside the grungy building. The room was small, and smelled of old alcohol and body odor, but it was empty save a group of people seated around tables smashed together in the center of the room.

  "Eli!"

  "Oi, Eli!"

  Kader passed me and shook hands with two men. I spotted Johar; she raised her tankard to me and offered me a seat next to her.

  "Galian, the men of the 101st Special Operations Unit," Kader said. "You know Johar, but this is Cyra, Gibbs, Piplu." One by one, they introduced themselves. Each were middle-aged like Kader, rough-skinned and weathered. Their eyes held a similar detached pity, like they knew how I felt, but had experienced it too many times to be really affected anymore.

  "Sit down, son," Johar said, grabbing me by my shoulder and sitting me down next to her. She placed a glass mug of sudsy beer in front of me. "Drink."

  I took a long sip, and it tasted really, really good. But I couldn't be happy about it.

  "Talk," Kader said, taking the seat across from me.

  "About?"

  "You've been holding it in," Kader replied. "You need to let it out. Talk about it. You're a doctor. You know that's not healthy."

  I did know; it was the same guidance I'd given Theo in Jervan. But she was the only person I felt comfortable breaking down in front of, not fifteen of the most badass people I'd ever seen. I sucked down half the beer.

  "We're looking into who put that bomb in your car," Johar replied after a moment.

  "It wasn't Rave," I snapped. "And my father's going to use it to bolster the war. Again. Because that's what he does. He kills people then uses it as justification to kill more people. First Dig, then me. Now M...Martin."

  "That wasn't a justification, that was a warning," Kader replied. "And I'm not sure it came from your father. There are a few powerful businessmen who stand to lose millions when the barethium runs out. They're not above using dirty tactics to get what they want. And they want the prison turned back on."

  My heart sank. "You can't be serious. After all that—"

  "Grieg has dispatched his own minions to soothe them," Johar replied. "They have at least two years' worth stockpiled—more if we slow down production of some weapons. That's plenty of time for them to start investing their considerable fortunes elsewhere."

  I couldn't believe my ears. "So you're saying that a bunch of businessmen killed Martin because my father closed Mael? Because it impacted their bottom lines?"

  "Life would be so much simpler if we could blame everything that goes wrong on your father, Galian," Kader said. "Unfortunately, it's not."

  "But Rhys and my mother, they said...they told me not to be a target. Grieg left me on the island."

  "He's done his fair share of things, sure," Kader replied. "But we're pretty sure that this episode was a message to him, not from him."

  "And that's it then," I said, sitting back. "Martin's dead, but message received. Does his life even matter?"

  "Do you know what matters?" Johar replied harshly. "The fact that two hundred prisoners are out of a toxic death camp. Do you even understand what you've done? People knew about Mael, but they didn't know about Mael. You don't hear about it in the papers, but the Kylaen people aren't too happy with your father right now." She nodded to me. "That's because of you, son."

  "You've kept your promise to your girl," Kader said. "That counts for something."

  The mention of Theo was at once uplifting and devastating. I needed her there with me so much it ached. She'd gone through loss before; she would know exactly the right thing to say to me. But more than that, I needed the safe haven she'd created for me, where I could let everything out. Without her, I felt ready to explode. I clenched my jaw.

  "Son, there's no shame in it," Kader said, putting a strong hand on my shoulder. "Martin was a good kid. We've all lost one of our own before."

  "Romola Simec," Johar said, raising her glass.

  "Alastair Friedland."

  "Charley Elm."

  Around the room, they raised their glasses and honored those they'd lost in the line of duty.

  "You get through it by honoring them the best way you know," Johar said. "I drink only Nikle whiskey for Charley."

  A grin broke out on Kader's face. "Man, he loved that shit."

  "How did he die?" I asked.

  "Classified mission," Johar said. "But bottom line was that the Ravens knew where we were and dropped a couple bombs on us." She shook her head. "Which, in effect, did what we were there to do. Place was decimated."

  I wrapped my hands tighter around the mug. "Where in Rave?"

  "Nowhere near your girl," Kader said.

  My hands relaxed, but not much. "But he died on a mission? Not because of anything that you...anything that you did."

  The group grew more solemn and focused on their beers as Kader spoke. "We were going to shut down a power plant on the north end of the island. We thought it supplied power to a secret facility we'd been hunting for a few years. But our intel was wrong, and, thanks to the Ravens, we cut power to a nearby city and hospital." He inhaled deeply. "I made the call to go on the mission even though I had a question. And therefore..."

  "But you said the Ravens bombed it?" I said. "So isn't it the Ravens' fault? They would know what they were doing—"

  "By the same logic,
how can you claim guilt for Martin's death?" Kader asked.

  The table went deathly silent. I glanced around at the faces of the men and women who'd given their lives and friends to my father's cause. Not one of them disagreed with Kader.

  "So what do I do about it?" I asked. "What did you do?"

  "Requested a transfer out of Special Operations into your mother's private security," Kader said, sitting back. "We all did."

  "She keeps us busy," Johar said with a sardonic grin.

  "Your mother is more than meets the eye," Kader replied. "And although you might think going back to the castle is a terrible idea, it actually puts you in a better position than drinking beer with Martin in your apartment."

  A fresh wave of grief washed over me. I'd never drink beer in the apartment with Martin again. He'd never try to pass me off as his cousin Jem or give advice about Theo. The nights of hearing him rummaging in the fridge for a midnight snack, the evenings of coming back from the hospital and seeing him on his second bag of chips, the mornings of waking up and hearing his loud snores from his bedroom—they were gone.

  He was gone forever.

  "Let's toast," Kader said, picking up his beer. "To Martin."

  "To Martin," came the reply from the group.

  I raised my glass as a tear slid down my cheek. "To Martin."

  SIXTEEN

  Theo

  For most of Rave, news of an assassination attempt on Prince Galian was met with a shrug and a commentary on how the princeling continued to give death the slip. Days passed, and the story died down in the Raven papers, though it still dominated the weekly meetings with Emilie. Galian himself had disappeared, returning to live at the castle and only leaving at night to work at the hospital. Selfishly, I was glad he was under lock and key. I didn't know what I would've done with myself had the assassination been successful.

  I did know he was hurting. He'd told me about Martin and Kader during our night in Jervan, and how Martin had become his good friend and confidant. To make matters worse, I was sure moving back into the castle was salt in his wounds. I wanted, more than anything, to gather him up in my arms and comfort him.

  But I had my own problems. Cannon still watched my every move, and I was starting to get the feeling Emilie was as well. With Mael closed, I was no longer delivering my speech, and was thus back to attending commissioning and promotion ceremonies. There'd been no more talk of marriage to bolster my reputation, so that, at least, was a blessing. But I still needed to make myself useful to Bayard, if only to remain close at hand.

  One week after news broke of the assassination attempt, I'd returned late from a promotion nearly four hours' drive away, and stopped in to drop off my report at Emilie's request. She informed me that the next morning, I would be needed at the executive offices at 0500 hours. When I asked her where I'd be going, she said she didn't know, but the look in her eyes said otherwise.

  Bleary-eyed, I arrived at the executive offices before the first rays of sunlight even broke the dark sky. Emilie was nowhere to be found, but I was ordered into a car with Cannon and several other aides I didn't recognize. The lot of us looked ready to go back to sleep, and I even caught a few minutes of a nap as we sped through the city.

  We arrived at the nearest military base, where we were then shuffled onto a pair of large helicopters that held all ten of us. There we sat, shivering and blinking in the night, until another set of cars rolled up. Bayard and Ministers Lee and Breen stepped out, and walked to the second helicopter.

  "Where are we going?" I whispered to myself as the helicopter engine roared to life above us.

  Cannon had taken the seat behind me, and I caught his eye. His gaze on me was studied and alert now, as if every breath I took was confirmation of some greater secret. I spun in my seat and leaned my head against the cool window. I didn't feel like getting into a pissing match this morning, so I kept my mouth closed and my gaze straight ahead.

  The chopper had landed in an airfield I'd never seen before. After disembarking, I realized it wasn't so much an airfield as a large, concrete plain. Dry grass rose up through cracks in the cement, as if this place hadn't been used in years. The concrete plain stretched all the way to a line of dark trees in the distance.

  I turned to look behind the helicopter and took a step back in surprise. I recognized the smoke stacks, the grimy windows, the acrid smell crawled into my nose. I shook my head to clear it, inhaling deeply and reminding myself this place wasn't a Kylaen death camp. The smell was just in my mind. There was no danger.

  "Come now, Theo, look sharp," Cannon said, coming to stand next to me. "Look familiar?"

  "Where the hell are we?" I spat, not even bothering to mask the panic on my face. "Is this...this isn't Mael..."

  "No, no," he said, looking a little disappointed. "A precursor to it, though. Here in our own country."

  "P-precursor..." My sleep-addled mind raced through what I knew of Raven history until it landed on the glaringly obvious option. "M-Malaske?"

  I was now wide-awake and full of nervous adrenaline. Bayard had invited me on a tour of the secret facility to see the secret project. Perhaps whatever was being built in Malaske was my new "brand."

  Again, I looked at the smoke stacks, hoping the dread I felt was due to memories of Mael, and not what I was about to encounter.

  I trailed at the back of the group, which included more ministers and aides than I'd seen before, as we met a full colonel in front of the dilapidated buildings. Her hands were clasped behind her back, her steely brown eyes visible underneath her cap. Her gaze slid over me—first at my capless head (a violation of Raven uniform code) then at my pants, which seemed worn and haggard next to her crisply ironed ones. I was happy when she surveyed Cannon in the same way, and her lip curled even more.

  "President Bayard, sir," she said, when Bayard joined us. She saluted him, and he waved his salute back. "Colonel Hilda Willet, Malaske commander."

  "Very good, Colonel," Bayard said. "I've very eager to see the project. Minister Breen has been very complimentary of your efforts."

  Willet didn't acknowledge his praise. "If you'll follow me." She performed a perfect two-step turn and marched inside the building, leading us down a long, skinny hallway. There were near twenty of us by my count, so we had to file in two by two through the small entry hallway. I was paired with Minister Lees, whose head nearly scraped the top of the low ceiling.

  The long hallway ended abruptly at a pair of double doors.

  "President Bayard, we'll need to split the group up," Willett announced. "The lift can hold eight."

  Cannon made sure to push himself into the first group with Bayard, smiling at me as the doors closed. The lift took a while to return, but when it did, I flattened myself against the wall so the rest of the group could climb in. We'd been stuck with a few of the more rotund ministers, so it was a tight fit.

  A chill ran up my spine as the lift dropped like a stone, hurtling down the shaft with a speed I hadn't expected. I gripped the handrail against the wall and closed my eyes, feeling the car slow and then, finally, come to a stop.

  The group exited the car and cold air hit my face. I stepped out and gazed upward at the cave we now stood in. Giant rock formations pointed down at us from high above.

  "Welcome to Malaske Cave," Willett said, her sharp voice echoing through the space. "This was the site of the first Kylaen barethium processing facility."

  Several of the ministers covered their mouths with their handkerchiefs, but I took a deep breath and couldn't smell the odor anymore.

  "Fear not, the barethium in here is in its natural state and is completely safe." Willet's eyes slid over my face, and I thought I saw a flash of pity in them. She cleared her throat. "If you'll indulge in a little history lesson, this cave and the processing plant at the surface level were the prize of King Thormond and," she chuckled, "the first that our Raven forefathers destroyed."

  A murmur of approving comments echoed from the group as th
e older ministers shared triumphant glances.

  "What was once the death knell for thousands of our countrymen is now the pride of our nation," Willett said. "Please direct your attention to the future of Rave."

  She opened her arms to a large plane in the center of the cave. I glanced at the ministers, reading their faces. They were as confused as I was. To my eyes, it appeared a similar model to the one which had brought us to Jervan.

  "Fellow Ravens," Bayard said, walking the group closer to the plane. "Much like our great Major Kallistrate is made of stronger stuff than she appears, I implore you to wait to form your opinions until you see what our plane has inside."

  I bristled at the unwelcome attention, and hung at the back of the group. Up close, the airship was massive, with four turbines and a cargo bay that could've fit my whole fighter plane. The Raven symbol was painted on the side.

  Willett gave the order, and the back of the plane lowered into a ramp, groaning and squeaking.

  "Oh!"

  A bulky object sat in the center of the cargo space, so large that it nearly took up the entirety of the space. Bayard and Willett climbed the ramp to stand in front of the object, Bayard placing a hand on the edge of the dark metal casing.

  "What is that, Tedwin?" Lee asked.

  "This, my friends, is a warhead," Bayard said. "Capable of leveling over one hundred square miles of land."

  A collective breath left the group.

  "But that's..."

  "Tedwin."

  "Yes, enough explosives to level the entire city of Norose." Bayard's voice echoed across a silent audience.

  I became aware of my own breathing, fast and nervous, and closed my mouth. Bayard was planning on bombing Norose? Over half a million people lived in that city, we couldn't possibly be considering doing what Bayard was saying.

  "We've tried to bomb Norose," Lee said, his old voice breaking through the silence. "We can't get past their defenses."