Lord Salmond dropped to his knees and a moment later fell unconscious. From where she stood, Kari couldn’t see it, but she knew if she were closer, she’d be able to see tiny crystals on Lord Salmond’s skin. It was a terribly precise wield, and it took a very powerful Wielder to separate one thing out of another. Especially from something as complex as a human being.
But Dane made it look easy, stealing the salt out of someone’s very blood.
Chapter 36
Spearield, 25th Day of the Month of Warmth, 1114 A.F.F.
Kuba sat cross-legged at the edge of the rocks, watching two boats out fishing on the water. He was on the secluded west side of the island. Gentry had explained that it was impossible to build or grow anything on the rock, but the waters were deep, even at the shoreline, so it was ideal for fishing without going out too far. Kuba watched the small boats as they drifted with the waves. The rocky shore was hot to the touch and the sun beamed down on him. The heat reminded Kuba of the City of Sable.
He sighed as he twirled his Godstone. It never used to get this hot in Zar. He missed his home and his aunt and uncle. A gust of wind rustled the palm leaves above. The cooler air was a relief. He watched as the leaves danced. Ion had told him about the plan with Gentry, and Kuba was on board. He would do anything to get his aunt and uncle back, but he wished Aurelia would come with them.
He shook his head. He wasn’t here to think about that. He was here to train, like he had been doing every day since arriving on Spearield. He placed his Godstone down beside him and picked up his book. Gentry had recommended it to him. It was the first time he had seen a book that had been written by the ancient humans. The paper was bound on the sides, not rolled up, and the cover was hard. It even smelled different, like clean dust—if that was even a thing. The language was foreign to him, but someone had translated it, so he was able to read his native Azanthean written between all the lines.
The old book’s spine cracked when he opened it. There were many words he didn’t know or understand, and there were many pictures that frightened him. And though there wasn’t too much of it, throughout the book there were several mentions of lightning.
While reading, Kuba had come to realize how powerful lightning was. Even with all the technology the ancient humans had, they were still vulnerable to its power. It had caused mammoth forest fires even they could not contain, and it struck people down in the streets.
Kuba flipped to the paragraph he found the most useful. It was a little blurb right above the most realistic picture of a forest in a storm he had ever seen. How the artist drew it so perfectly, and how the ancient human scribe’s handwriting was so consistent, was far beyond Kuba’s understanding. Gentry had tried to explain that the ancient humans had gigantic machines that did it for them, but Kuba simply couldn’t wrap his mind around how that would work. Someone surely had to write the words to begin.
The blurb described how lightning was formed in the sky. Kuba read it over and over, whispering under his breath as he did.
He read the paragraph twenty-five times before he put the book down and picked up his Godstone. His hand tightened around it. It was only a couple of days ago that he had mastered the summoning wield, but he knew if they were going to Azanthea, he would need to master even the most complex of wields. He would have to know how to conjure.
He closed his eyes and calmed his mind, allowing the noise of the Godstone to consume him. His heart fluttered as he felt the Godstone invade his mind, but he remained steady.
Vincent had been right. His near-death experience had only made his abilities with the Godstone stronger.
Kuba’s eyes snapped open. His senses were enhanced, and time felt like it was moving slowly. He knew he was connected to his Godstone, and the connection was stronger than ever. He could feel its mighty power consuming him. He liked the feeling.
“Water… collisions… electrical charges… lightning,” Kuba repeated. He focused intensely on the space in front of him. He pictured water moving through the air, he pictured it frozen, colliding with other ice pieces. He breathed deeply, repeating his words as the noise of the Godstone drowned out his thoughts.
Sweat dripped down his brow.
“Kuba?” A voice called out from behind him. “Is that you?”
Psteww. A miniature bolt—almost too small to see—crackled through the air in front of Kuba’s face as his concentration faltered.
He felt his body get heavier as the power of the Godstone receded. He placed the Godstone back in his pocket for safekeeping.
“What?” He looked over his shoulder. “Oh, Aurelia… Hey.”
“Hey, Kuba.” Aurelia took a seat next to him. “What are you up to?”
“Training,” he replied. He was excited to be talking to her again; he had barely seen her since the party. But he knew Ion would feel betrayed.
“For what?”
“For when we leave for Azanthea.”
“I’ve heard around the village there is quite the crew going,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “There is talk of a revolution.”
“I just want my aunt and uncle back.”
“Right, right.”
Kuba felt awkward. What was he supposed to say to her? The silence was drawn out by the long slushing of the waves.
“Does Ion hate me?” she asked, keeping her gaze averted.
“Well, I don’t think he likes you right now. But he could never hate you. You did save us after all.”
“Hmm,” said Aurelia, looking at her feet.
“Do you know what you’re going to do yet?”
“No, not yet,” she said. She traced one of her feet back and forth across the rock.
There was silence, and Kuba watched as one of the fishermen cast out his line.
“I don’t think,” he started, knowing he was treading on thin ice, “he’s upset because you won’t help. There are plenty of people who won’t help.”
“Then why?” she asked. She was leaning in, and her braided hair swayed gently in the breeze. She had deep bags under her eyes.
“I think he’s upset because he would follow you anywhere. Heck, we did follow you anywhere.” Kuba shrugged. “But you won't do the same for him.”
There was silence. A fisherman was reeling in his catch.
“For a kid, you’re pretty smart, you know.”
Kuba chuckled and picked up his book. “Thanks. I’ve been reading.”
Chapter 37
Azul, 25th Day of the Month of Warmth, 1114 A.F.F.
“Welcome, competitors,” Xenophon said from the diamond throne in the grand hall of Azanthea’s court.
Kari looked to the others. Lord Salmond still looked horrible after Dane’s wield nearly killed him. Kari would have normally felt terrible for a lord in that situation, but Salmond deserved it. She wondered if Dane had witnessed Salmond’s deeds, as Dane was normally known to show restraint.
And then there was Amelie. She looked beautiful, inappropriately dressed, but beautiful. Since the start of the Trials, their group dinners had ceased and the interactions were limited. It seemed both Xenophon and Lord Ceridia were keen on keeping the two of them apart.
“Today are the Justice Trials,” Xenophon said, shifting in Vallich’s old seat. He looked uncomfortable on the hard crystal. “At dusk, the court will gather, and a prisoner will be brought to each of you. You will carry out the punishment imposed on them by the highest form of justice—the God-King’s will.”
Kari’s heartbeat sped, as did the tunes of the Wielders around her. The only one that remained steady was Lord Salmond’s. Kari’s stomach wrapped into a knot. Having been present for some of the punishments of the court, she knew they were normally brutal. They were normally lethal.
“Three of you succeeded in the Strategy Trial, crossing the finish line with your items. And one failed.” Xenophon shot Lord Salmond a pointed look before using the armrests of the throne to pull his frail body out of the seat. “Remember, there is no
room for failure next to the God-King.” Xenophon’s shoes echoed as he began walking out.
“Excuse me,” Kari blurted out. “I mean, High Historian. May I ask your holiness a question?”
Xenophon paused for a moment before giving a slight nod.
“May we know their crimes?”
“No.”
“How about their names?”
“Young Kari, perhaps you do not understand. This is to test your sense of justice. And the ultimate justice is that which the God-King decides. Prove your unwavering loyalty to his word, and prove your sense of justice. You will need this if you are to ascend.”
“But how do we even know these tasks come from him? We haven’t seen him in years!”
“Do you question him?” Xenophon took a step towards her.
“No… no, of course not,” Kari said, stepping back. Sweat beaded her brow. “I just want to be certain the Trial orders are coming from him. Just being vigilant.”
“Of course you are,” Xenophon said, towering in front of her. “I received his instructions directly, if you must know.” Kari looked into his murky green eyes. They were filled with warning. She had gone too far. Xenophon turned to the rest of the group. “Does anyone else have any questions?”
The room was silent.
“No? Good.” Xenophon gently bowed his head to the group. “We shall see you at dusk.”
Kari sat on one of the white stone seats. She breathed slowly and looked up at the diamond ceiling. She had never killed anyone before, and though Xenophon had yet to tell them the punishment they had to give out, people rarely made it out of court punishments alive. She wasn’t sure if she could do it. Not unless she knew what they had done.
“You’re not as pretty when you’re sad.”
Amelie strode into the room, over to Vallich’s old throne. Kari adjusted her posture. “That is not a very nice thing to say.”
Amelie paused in front of the diamond throne then moved towards the God-King’s majestic one. “It isn’t just you. No one is as pretty when they are sad.”
“And why do you suppose I am sad?”
“You just seem it.” Amelie shrugged and sat down in the God-King’s throne.
Kari jumped to her feet. “What are you doing?”
“What? It’s just a chair,” Amelia said, picking one of the Granbek flowers from its base and sniffing it.
“It belongs to the God-King!” Kari stormed over, her cheeks flushed with rage.
“And when was the last time he sat in it?” Amelie said.
Kari reached to pull her out of it, but Amelie grabbed her wrist and pulled her down onto her lap.
“See?” Amelie said, a smirk across her beautiful lips. “The sky has not fallen.”
Kari was about to jump up, to smack her, to yell. To suck all the breath out of Amelie’s lungs and watch her wither on the ground for such blatant disrespect towards their God-King. But the fleeting rage passed and the lull of Mímrvor whispering Amelie’s light tune consumed her. Amelie was right. The sky had not fallen. No bells rang and no one came rushing in to stop them. Kari pressed her hand to the back of the throne, just beside Amelie’s head. She felt the graininess on her fingertips.
It was just a chair.
Kari dropped her hand to Amelie’s shoulder. “Why are you here?”
“I want to win.”
“No.” Kari shook her head. “The real reason.”
Amelie sighed. “I don’t know what it is with you people in Azul. Perhaps you are too sheltered from the rest of the world, but the rest of Azanthea is not like here. No one is as enamoured with the God-King as they are here.”
“You don’t believe in him?”
“Oh, I absolutely do,” Amelie said, placing a light hand on Kari’s thigh. “I believe he is the reason our country is not overrun by the pirates from Raknabrooke or the Vyvents from the Dozen Isles. I believe his protection has stopped many wars, but I do not believe he is without flaws. If he was, this country would be too.”
“So then, why are you here?” Kari asked, inching closer to her face.
“Because I want to help my people, and this is the best way I know how.”
Kari smiled, tracing her finger along Amelie’s forearm. They both watched as Kari’s finger traced her skin down to the hand on her thigh. When bumps rose on Amelie’s arm, Mímrvor’s tune sent a satisfying chill through Kari. It was as if she could feel Amelie’s pleasure. Amelie giggled, and then pressed her forehead against Kari’s. Her eyes were a beautiful deep blue.
“Kari…” Amelie breathed onto her lips, moving closer. She raised her hand, weaving it into Kari’s hair.
The latches on the door clicked, the sound carrying through the quiet hall.
“How naughty,” a voice boomed from one of the entrances. Lord Salmond limped into the grand hall. “Fraternizing with the enemy, and on the great God-King’s throne nonetheless.”
Kari and Amelie scrambled to their feet.
“I am truly sorry for the interruption,” he said, bowing his head, “but I would like to have a word with Kari, if you two can bear to part?”
Kari turned to Amelie, who shot her a worried glance. Kari nodded, to assure her it would be alright.
Amelie sighed. “I will wait for you outside.” She strode out of the room, past Lord Salmond. “Do not try anything funny.”
The sound of the latches rang through the grand hall again and the door shut behind Amelie. Mímrvor’s tune quickly changed with Lord Salmond in the room. It was much darker and trickier to comprehend.
“What is it you want?”
“But to help you, dear Kari. You had questions, and now I have answers.”
“Answers to what?”
“In the meeting earlier, you requested the names and crimes of the people to be brought to justice this eve.” Kari raised an eyebrow at him. “I have those names.”
“How did you get them?”
“Funny what a little bit of gold can buy,” said Lord Salmond as he weaved one of his gold chains through his fingers.
“And why should I put my trust in you, after what you did to Lord Absinthe?”
“Ah, so you know.” Lord Salmond stopped his pacing and turned towards Kari, his gold necklaces glittering in the daylight as he spun. “It is a competition, my dear.”
“Hmm.”
“Let me tell you what I have found, and then you can decide.”
Kari listened closely to Mímrvor. She knew Lord Salmond was not to be trusted. But she also yearned to know what, and who, was coming this evening. She drummed her fingers along her chest, right over Mímrvor. This could help her justify what she had to do. If she had to kill a murderer, did it not just make the world a better place?
“Fine.” She sighed. “Tell me what you know.”
Chapter 38
Azul, 25th Day of the Month of Warmth, 1114 A.F.F.
They stood in the grand hall, the entire court gathered in their seats. Kari looked at the three thrones, none of which were presently occupied. Xenophon stood in front of them all.
“People of the court, today we present to you the Justice Trial.” The court cheered at Xenophon’s words. “Each competitor has been tasked by the God-King himself with delivering punishment to one irrefutably guilty soul. Bring out the guilty.”
To the tune of thunderous cheers that seemed to vibrate through Kari’s organs, the prisoners were brought out. The guards forced them to their knees in front of each competitor. Lord Salmond and Amelie both faced women, which meant one of them had to punish a rapist who drugged and seduced unwilling men, and the other a thief who stole from the noble family she served to feed her own young children. Kari wanted to shout out to Amelie, but then they would all know of the conspiracy she took part in. And perhaps she would detract Amelie from her goal of making the world better for all Azantheans.
She and Dane faced the men. One was a murderer accused of killing his landlord, and the other was a Northerner, a father who had defen
ded his young daughter against a group of soldiers who were harassing her.
“Their punishment is death!” Xenophon called out.
“For all of them?” Kari blurted out, though her voice was muffled by the cheers of the crowd.
Xenophon simply nodded. After the crowd had their chance to cheer, Xenophon raised a hand. “They are enemies to the God-King and a danger to society. Use your Godstones to show them justice. Make them pay for their crimes. Lord Salmond, you lost the last trial, so you shall be first.”
Lord Salmond walked up to the woman in front of him. Her grabbed a gold chain from his neck and bunched it into his hands.
“Please,” she begged, grabbing at Lord Salmond’s loose pants.
“Hold her still,” he said to the soldiers. Two Elevenths came and held her, stopping her from squirming. She begged and pleaded as Lord Salmond hovered over her. His eyes were as white as the moon.
“Enough of your whining,” he said, controlling the gold chain floating in the air above her with one hand and opening her jaw with the other. “By the word of the God-King, you are sentenced to death.”
The gold chain melted into liquid and poured down her throat. Her screams quickly turned to gurgles and the gurgles quickly to nothing. The crowd cheered.
“Very good, Lord Salmond,” Xenophon said. “You have succeeded in this trial.”
Lord Salmond bowed and stepped back to his place among them.
“Lord Dane,” said Xenophon. “Please proceed.”
Dane didn’t even move forward. His eyes went white, and the prisoner’s body immediately toppled over. The crowd was silent, as if they were still waiting for something to happen. After a few moments, a slow clap rolled through the hall. Clearly the crowd did not find Dane’s punishment nearly as satisfying as Lord Salmond’s.
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