“I suppose he always did seem to fancy you. It would make sense that he finally try something before he left.”
A wave of relief flooded over Kari, but Xenophon still didn’t seem entirely convinced. Perhaps this was the real reason he invited her to walk with him through the town. To rattle her with the chaos and then ask his questions.
A horn sounded in the distance.
“Ah,” Xenophon said. “They’ve arrived.”
Chapter 23
Near the Sable Trading Outpost, 12th Day of the Month of Warmth, 1114 A.F.F.
Kuba lay on his back, flipping his Godstone between his hands overhead. The morning sun caused the golden Godstone to glow even brighter. He looked closely at it. It was entrancing, and he couldn’t help but smile. The others were out searching for firewood, and Kuba was thankful for his time alone with the Godstone.
A cloud passed over the sun. and Kuba’s smile faded. He still couldn’t use it, which meant the chances of him reuniting with his aunt and uncle were still slim. He sighed. What a mess he had gotten them all in.
The warmth of the sun returned to Kuba’s face from behind the thick white clouds, but his smile had faded. He was determined to summon the lightning they needed, to guide them to the Free-Wielders. He clutched the Godstone and pulled it into his chest.
Ever since Aurelia taught him how to use it, he’d been secretly practising every chance he got. He wouldn’t try to summon the lightning—it would draw too much attention. He would just hold the connection with the Godstone for as long as he could; he would practise letting the Godstone consume him. Kuba’s fist clenched even tighter around the rock as he began to slow his breathing and empty his mind.
A loud clatter caused him to jolt upward and his connection with the stone dissolved.
“What are you doing?” said Vincent, a pile of firewood at his feet.
“Nothing.”
Vincent must have been the first one back. Kuba felt uncomfortable lying to him, but Aurelia made it clear not to tell him too much. Kuba didn’t know where to draw that line.
“You’re the Wielder,” said Vincent. The way he said it, Kuba knew that it was not a question.
“Yes,” said Kuba. He was cautious, but at the same time, Vincent did save them. “I’m new, though.”
Vincent smiled at him. Kuba was a little confused, but smiled back anyways.
“And,” Vincent asked, “how’s it going for you so far?”
Kuba shrugged. “Not so great.”
“Perhaps I can help?” Vincent walked over and sat next to Kuba.
Kuba smiled at their new companion. Why Ion and Aurelia were being so weird about Vincent made no sense to Kuba. He’d been nothing but nice. Not telling him about the Free-Wielders seemed cruel; he was trying to escape too.
“Sure,” said Kuba.
Vincent leaned his forearms on his legs. “What do you need to know? I’m an open book.”
Kuba shifted uncomfortably, wanting to ask Vincent right then and there for his help. He wanted to tell him everything. But he refrained, knowing his brother would be upset with him for giving the stranger too much information.
“I need to know how to get this thing to work,” he said as he held up his Godstone.
“Have you connected with it before?”
“Yes, but nothing happened,” Kuba said, looking down at his hands. “I need to know how to do it like you.”
Vincent laughed. “What I can do has taken my entire life to learn,” he said. “Years of gruelling training and terrible pain at the hands of vicious teachers.”
Kuba raised his eyebrows. “Any tips?”
Vincent chuckled. “Sure, kid, but it’s not pretty.”
Wide-eyed and smiling, Kuba repositioned himself to face Vincent, who was leaning forward eagerly. It looked like he was excited to share the knowledge.
Vincent leaned in closer. “You have to be willing to die.”
Kuba’s smile faded. Vincent’s did not.
“Die?” Kuba whispered, the familiar feeling of tightness creeping into his chest. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his jittering foot.
Vincent nodded, his face still lit up with energy. It unsettled Kuba a little. “To get better, you need to push your abilities,” said Vincent. “Most people do not push far enough. Our abilities are like a muscle. Work too hard and you can tear something, but don’t work hard enough and you don’t get any better.”
“Okay…”
“We have to find that line, push ourselves to the edge—the very brink of death—each time. If you don’t push far enough, you won’t grow and get stronger. If you push too much, you die. That’s my secret. If you feel like you’re at your limit, just push further, even if it means risking death. Only those willing to risk it all can be truly great.”
“But couldn’t I actually die?” Kuba asked.
“Yes,” Vincent said, “but that’s what it takes if you want to be the best.”
“Doesn’t it scare you?”
“It is the things that scare us that are truly worth doing.”
Kuba looked down at the dirt, away from Vincent’s intense stare. He knew he had to get better, and quickly, but was this really what he was going to have to risk?
“You’ll soon find that Wielders are better than average people,” Vincent said. “We are stronger than both humans and Vyvents. Apollyon is not the only God on this earth.”
Kuba looked back up at his new friend. He had learned about the Vyvents in school. For the most part, they lived in a far-off land. They lived long lives and could control the little things all around them. And they could read minds, or something like that. Kuba was taught never to trust a Vyvent. Could he really be stronger than them?
“You should be happy you’re one of us.” Vincent was smiling, but Kuba just stared, unsure of what he meant.
“Morning, Kuba!” Ion yelled, ignoring Vincent altogether. He was coming out of the forest with an armful of wood.
Kuba and Vincent both shot to their feet.
“What have you two been up to?” Ion asked, walking towards them. Ion’s tone was the same one Kuba’s Lessonsmaster used when he was caught doing something wrong.
Kuba glanced to the side and caught Vincent’s eye. Vincent gave him a tiny wink.
“Nothing,” Kuba blurted.
“Uh-huh,” said Ion.
“I should get back to work. Nice chatting, Kuba,” Vincent said, while glaring directly at Ion.
Kuba looked back and forth between the two. For a moment, it seemed as if they were in a standoff. The silence made him uncomfortable.
“Ion,” Vincent finally said, bowing his head slightly.
Ion returned the gesture.
Then they both stormed off.
Aurelia was still thinking about the conversation she’d had with Vincent the night before as she walked through the thinly treed forest collecting wood for their plot to get past the border wall. He was so hard to read. He clearly hated Apollyon’s regime and he seemed so angry, she could sense it, as it was the same anger and hatred that festered in herself. Emotions she had been keeping under control for so long, holding back the rage and sadness to keep her sanity. But he pried it out of her. He fed her need for revenge.
And strangely, it felt good.
Aurelia shook her head as she picked up a large branch to haul over to her pile. She hadn’t been so open about her past with anyone in so long. It felt almost liberating to finally talk about it with someone. Sure, she had been confiding in Ion a little, but she never gave him the full, gory details. She feared he wouldn’t understand. But Vincent clearly did.
She marched over to her growing pile of wood and tossed the large branch onto it. She eyed up the size of the pile; it looked like enough.
“Hurry up, you scum!”
Aurelia dropped to the ground behind her woodpile as she heard the yell off in the distance. She pulled herself to her knees, peering over the stack, and her eyes widened in horror. Do
wn the slight hill to the west, through the thin veil of forest, she spotted a large cohort of chained people surrounded by soldiers. They were emaciated and beaten, their fresh wounds open to the elements. They walked in a line surrounded by guards. Aurelia couldn’t see the end of the procession.
She could smell the stench coming off them even at this distance. She crouched lower and turned to crawl. She couldn’t risk being seen. A distant clatter of chains echoed through the woods.
“Get up, you Northern brat!” The shout echoed through the forest.
Aurelia shot to her feet, glaring down the slope at the barely visible pack. The prisoners were her people.
A young girl had fallen. Even from afar, she could tell the child was sick. Her many attempts to get up were failing. Aurelia closed her eyes tightly, taking a deep breath. There were too many guards; there was nothing she could do but watch. She pushed the anger welling up in her throat back down.
Aurelia opened her eyes and watched intently as the girl continued to struggle to stand. The guards were closing in. She held her breath. Just as one of the guards made it within arm’s reach, the girl managed to stand. Aurelia felt herself relax a little as she exhaled.
The group started to continue walking, but on the little girl’s first step, she crumbled back onto her knees. In one quick motion, the nearby soldier lifted his palm and brought the back of his hand across the girl’s face.
Without a second of hesitation, Aurelia was off. Fury burned in her stomach as she tore down the hill, her feet flying underneath her. She clenched her Godstone, her eyes glossing over as they connected. She would kill that man.
The distance between her and the group was closing quickly, her feet carrying her faster than they ever had before. The sound of her movements was masked by the clanging of the chains and the disgusting laughter of the soldiers. They wouldn’t hear her coming.
Strategically, she used the trees to stay out of sight, running at the group on an angle. As she approached, she channelled the energy of her Godstone into the palms of her hands, conjuring two balls of fire. Immediately upon their ignition, she felt herself weaken, the conjure taking its toll. She slowed a little.
As she continued sprinting down the slope, she lifted one of her palms into the air, the blazing fireball following her hand’s motion. She could feel the heat on her palm from the fire just a few inches in front of her. She aimed the boiling blaze directly at the child-beater.
Aurelia went to launch her fiery attack.
A blur appeared immediately to her left and she was too late to react. A black-clothed figure tackled her from the side. The impact sent them both rolling onto the stony forest floor. Instinctively, she sent her blazing fireballs searing into his back.
He grunted in pain as they continued to tumble until a tree finally stopped their spiralling. The figure straddled her and pinned her down by her wrists.
“Snap out of it!” the man hissed.
Aurelia’s eyes immediately cleared. It was Vincent on top of her, the full weight of him rendering her unable to move.
“Get off!” she shouted furiously. “Let me go!”
“Shut up!” he hushed, shoving his hand over her mouth. “You are going to get yourself killed.”
Aurelia was furious. She screamed at him, but his palm muffled the noise.
“Listen to me closely,” he said, whispering right into her ear. She could feel the tenseness of his muscles pushing down on her. “There is nothing you can do for them. There are dozens of soldiers, maybe even some Wielders. You’ll just get yourself and the other two caught. Do you want that?”
Aurelia glared up at him furiously, but he wasn’t wrong. He quietly stared back, continuing to press down on her mouth. She watched as his eyes darted back and forth, trying to read her face. Finally, she shook her head.
“Good,” he said coldly. “I’m going to let you go now. Do not yell, do not run. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
He slowly took his hand off her mouth. He paused for a moment, when she didn’t react, he continued to use the ground beside her head to push himself up. He stood over her, wincing slightly from their squabble. She brought herself onto her elbows, and Vincent extended his hand. She took a hold, and he pulled her to her feet. She brushed the soil off her pants and looked over Vincent’s shoulder at the group, the procession still stretching as far as she could see.
“It’s disgusting what Apollyon is doing to my people.”
“Hm,” Vincent said, in what sounded like a grunt of agreement. He turned from her to look at the procession. “They must be from Azul. Last I heard, they were nearly done with them there.”
“Vincent!” Aurelia exclaimed, not paying attention to what he was saying. “Your back!”
Vincent arched his head over his shoulder in an attempt to see. His lower back was covered in burns, the sight of which made Aurelia flinch. The smell of melted flesh crept up her nose. His calm demeanour put her on edge.
“Here, take this off. Let me have a look,” Aurelia said, clearly flustered that she had injured him.
“I’m fine,” he said. “It mostly caught my clothes anyways.”
“But it’s open here and I can see a burn…” she clamoured on, clawing at his shirt.
“Stop grabbing at me.”
“It looks bad,” she said, continuing to try to remove his shirt.
“I said, I’m fine!”
She stepped back, not having heard that tone from him before.
“I’m sorry. Let’s get back,” Vincent said. “I’ll deal with it, don’t worry.”
“Okay, okay,” Aurelia said, throwing her hands up and backing off. Guilt welled up inside her. He had now saved her twice, and she had done nothing but cause him pain.
“I’m sorry.”
“It was an accident and I’m fine,” Vincent said, starting to walk back. “Let’s go.”
Aurelia followed him quietly, taking one last look over her shoulder at the procession as they disappeared back into the forest.
Chapter 24
Outside the Wall of Sable, 13th Day of the Month of Warmth, 1114 A.F.F.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” Ion asked.
“Don’t be daft. Of course it’ll work,” Vincent said.
Ion hated the way he exuded confidence. He nervously looked down at Vincent from his perch on the giant charcoal-coloured horse. He still did not trust Vincent. They had moved out of the forest and onto the sandy plains to fit the horse with a saddle that would tow their makeshift trailer. It was nothing more than a bunch of thick logs tied together, but everyone agreed that it should drag fine along the flat land of Sable. He adjusted himself on the horse, his armour—borrowed from Vincent—clanged loudly. He wasn’t used to wearing anything like it.
“It’s a good plan,” Aurelia said, resting her hand on Ion’s knee. Even through the thick armour, her presence immediately put him at ease. “And it’s the only one we’ve got.”
“Yeah, and you look cool!” Kuba chimed in.
Ion couldn’t help but smirk at his little brother.
“So now all you have to do is tie us up and we should be good to go,” Vincent said. “It should only be a few hours until we reach the city border.”
One by one, they clambered over to Ion, who used the pieces of rope to tie their hands together. After tying each set of hands, he handed them the bags to be worn over their heads. The bags made him nervous, though. The entire plan rested on the anonymity they would provide. If the bags didn’t work, it would probably mean their demise.
Aurelia and Kuba hopped onto the wagon and lay down. Ion watched as Vincent stepped on the wooden platform behind them. He carefully stepped over Aurelia and Kuba, moving to the back of the wagon and seating himself. Vincent might be confident that this plan would work, but Ion was not so sure.
“Remember,” Vincent said, “we must follow the plan, even if things go astray. Unless I am revealed, do not abort.”
“Alright,” Ion said, adjusting himself into a better position on the horse. “Shall we?”
“We shall,” Aurelia said.
Ion peered over their shoulder and watched as Aurelia helped Kuba get the homemade bag over his head. Aurelia put her own on next.
Vincent still had his off. He was glaring at Ion. “You can do this,” he said quietly, but sternly.
Ion nodded curtly. Maybe Vincent wasn’t so bad.
With that, Vincent pulled the bag over his head and lay down. They were off.
It took several hours to reach the city border. Ion had followed the trading route due south, and was now closing in on the giant trade border wall. The wall spanned from the Redcliffs of the ocean-side to the bay in the east—there was no way around it by land. The journey had been nerve-wracking for Ion. The closer they got to the city, the more people he saw en route. Most stared, the armour causing him to stick out. Other soldiers would greet him from afar, but, to his great relief, no one approached them. Vincent had been right when they first met; the armour kept folks away.
Ion paused a few hundred yards from one of the city gates. As Vincent had suggested, he headed to the ocean-side entrance, which was substantially less busy than the main gate. He turned in his saddle to check on the group. They rested silently, as they had the entire trip.
Ion turned to face the giant, sandy wall once again, a coarse pit of nerves balling up in his throat. Everyone was depending on him. This was their chance to make it to the Free-Wielders, to get his parents back. This was their chance to survive. His brother and Aurelia were depending on him, and he could not let them down.
He swallowed the pit in his throat and clicked his heels on the horse, commanding her to proceed. He trotted towards the entrance, passing right by the line of traders waiting to pay their taxes to enter the city. He moved to the soldiers’ entrance on the right, where he would wait to be vetted. He passed by a few soldiers in line, stopping at the very front, right at the base of the magnificent sandstone wall. Just as Vincent had instructed him to do.
All the King's Traitors Page 15