by Erin Rhew
“If this is the end, Nash, I want you to know I’m glad I finally found out about you…son.” His father clamped him on the shoulder.
“Me too, Father.”
Turning away, Rex roared out into the open, startling the approaching men. Nash rushed to his father’s side. They stood, fearless, like two battle ready phoenixes. The first two of Vance’s men lunged.
Despite their bone-weary fatigue, father and son jumped into action. Rex and Nash quickly placed the two soldiers on their backs with strategic, well-placed blows. They battled similarly, but while one set of guards distracted them, another six formed a circle around them.
Nash realized the hopelessness of their situation and stole a quick glance at Rex. How he wished he could tell Layla about his father, about the acceptance he’d finally found.
Layla…longing gnawed at him. He would never see her beautiful purple eyes again or run his fingers through her thick, black hair. The Ecclesiastics valued those features because of the Prophecy, but to him they held a different meaning. They made up a small part of the many reasons he adored her: how the purple in her eyes turned from light to dark when she concentrated hard during sparring and how she twirled a strand of her black hair while deep in thought. In these, possibly his last moments, he thought of those and a thousand other reasons why he loved her and would miss her.
At the same time, achingly, he knew his death would also release her. She loved him, he believed that, but Nash also saw how torn she was. Whether she would admit it or not, she cared for Wil too and felt a responsibility to bring about the Prophecy. Layla was the Fulfillment; Nash knew it with inexplicable confidence, and she would bring about the much awaited peace whether or not she believed it herself.
Despite his dire situation, Nash smiled. He had found a father that accepted him, and he’d found a woman to love him. He wished he had more time to enjoy them both, but at least he could die with the knowledge he had been given those precious gifts, if only for a moment.
“Stop!” A stranger commanded, breaking into his thoughts.
Nash turned to see Grant, an army at his back. Relief washed over him. Grant had done it. He’d managed to collect soldiers, and they’d arrived just in time to save Nash and his father. He would forever be in Grant’s debt.
“Who are you?” one of Vance’s guards asked as he shrunk back at the size of the group now surrounding him.
“We are the King’s Guard, and we fight for King Rex.” At Grant’s reply, the group of men with him raised their swords and cheered. “If you leave now, we’ll let you live, but if you fight, we’ll cut you down.”
Vance’s men looked at one another, hesitating but a heartbeat, then dropped their swords and ran. Nash almost laughed, recalling how Layla scoffed at the man who’d run from them in the woods when they first met. She’d deemed him an unworthy Vanguard. Nash could only imagine what she would say about the six fleeing now. Like a man renewed, Nash walked over to his rescuer, clasping him on the shoulder.
“Grant.” Nash continued grinning over his liberation, amazed by his Vanguard friend’s exceptional timing. Grant returned the smile.
“I did what you asked. What do you think?” He gestured to the large group of men gathered behind him.
“I had no idea so many opposed Vance.”
Rex looked around in disbelief. “These men all came out to support me, against Vance?”
“You are well loved by your people, King Rex, and Vance…” Grant paused, choosing his words carefully. “Vance is not.” He placed his hand over his heart and bowed. Every other man did the same.
Rex bent down, caught Grant under the arm, and hauled him back to a standing position. “I may not be so well loved after you hear what I have to say.”
“My king?” Grant looked between Rex and Nash with confusion.
“Everyone, gather around. I have something monumental to tell you.” Rex motioned for the men to stand and step closer. “I am humbled by your loyalty to me, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. But what I have to say now may make you question your choice. If you do not wish to follow me after this, I will understand.”
The men looked at one another, perplexed. A worried buzz carried throughout the group.
“I need to introduce someone very important,” Rex spoke over the noise. “This is Nash, my son.”
The word “son” relayed from man to man, their confusion deepening. Curious stares surrounded Nash. Though their scrutiny unnerved him, he stood tall and proud beside his father as befit a prince.
“He is also the son of the Ethereal queen, Sansolena.” Rex waited for the information to work through the crowd.
The murmur became a roar. The men shouted at one another, at Rex, at Grant, and at Nash. Chaos abounded. Nash took it all in—the angry, scared, and unsure faces.
Rex remained unflappable. “Quiet!” The noise died almost instantly. “As many of you well know, the Ecclesiastics found the Fulfillment here in Vanguard. She arrived in Etherea months ago to wed King Jesper’s son and bring about the long awaited peace. I personally welcome this peace. Like me, many of you have spent your lives fighting a war whose origins none of us can even recall. I hope, like me, you are all tired of this war and tired of fighting it. I want peace.”
Silence met the proclamation. Undeterred, Rex continued, “When I was a young man, I met and fell in love with a young woman who happened to be an Ethereal. I wanted to marry her, but her father took her away and Altered her mind to forget me. That girl ended up marrying King Jesper, becoming Queen Sansolena, and bearing my son—though I never knew about him. From what I understand, Jesper never knew the truth about Nash’s paternity either, but when he found out, he put Sansolena in jail and put a price on Nash’s head. He means to hang the queen in two days’ time. I mean to stop him. I will fight one final battle with Jesper.”
Rex let his words stand as each man absorbed the impact. “Then, I hope to lay down my sword and embrace a new peace. If you do not want to come with me, I understand. My son Vance hopes to continue a war between the Ethereals and Vanguards. If you wish the same, stay with him, but if you are willing to fight one more battle and afterward lay down your swords in peace, come with me.”
The men stared at him in stunned silence before a loud murmur rippled through the group as they argued over the king’s words. Nash watched as the men yelled, quarreling amongst themselves, until their shouts filled the forest
An older man with a long scar that started on the left side of his forehead and ended at his jaw stepped out from the crowd. “How do we know this Nash is even your son? If he’s Ethereal, he could make you believe anything he wanted.”
Rex glanced over at Nash. “Take a good look at him. Any one of you can see without a doubt that he’s my son.”
“Maybe that’s what he wants us to see.” The man’s chin rose, challenging the king.
Grant called out to the crow. “I concur with the king’s story and vouch for Nash.”
The scarred soldier roared with laughter. “And we should take the word of this young nobody?”
“That’s enough, Rengard!” Rex’s reprimand boomed throughout the forest. The argumentative guard’s face flushed red, making his puckered scar stand out even more. “If you don’t believe what I have to say, don’t come. Go back and fight for Vance. No one will stop you.”
“Forgive my rudeness, King Rex,” Rengard tried again, his tone more deferential. “I fought many battles with you and respect you, but we are all just trying to understand. We left Vance and risked our lives to join with you because we believe you are the true king. Would you honor us by explaining how Vance came to sit upon the throne? As you may expect, many rumors have been passed around.”
Nash watched as his father tried to calm himself, fighting against the Vanguard nature Layla often mentioned. Rex took a deep breath. “Vance and his mother poisoned me because they were too cowardly to face me in a real fight. The only person who dared a rescue attempt
stands beside me—my son, Nash. Together we fought our way out of the dungeon, through the castle, and into the forest. Now, I plan to rescue his mother, Queen Sansolena, from certain death at the hands of King Jesper. You are either with me, or you’re not. Decide now.”
A tomblike hush fell across the forest, so quiet Nash could hear a squirrel scraping in the tree beside him. The soldiers looked back and forth between one another, their faces speaking though their mouths dared not. Nash wondered what they thought of his father and if they would choose to join the quest.
“I will stand with you, my king.” Grant bowed low.
“And I,” came another.
Soon a chorus of “and I” rang throughout the forest. Rengard faded into the crowd. Nash looked over at his father and felt proud to be his son.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Wil
Wil’s door swung open. Mars strode in, without his customary knock, and marched right up to the prince. In his surprise, Wil remained frozen in place, so confounded by the Volton’s departure from standard decorum.
“I apologize for barging in, but I know what you’re doing, Wil.”
Wil regained his composure. “I don’t know what you mean.”
The Volton wrinkled his face. “You’re planning to rescue your mother and sister, but you can’t do it alone. You need my help…and hers.”
Wil swallowed with great difficulty. Hers…Mars didn’t need to specify. They both knew he meant Layla.
“You don’t understand, Volton—”
“I do understand, in ways you cannot even begin to imagine.” Wil started to interrupt, to press his teacher and friend for more details, but the look on Mars’ face stopped him.
“I’m mortified by my behavior, Mars. I let things between us go too far, especially considering she loves Nash and not me.” Wil ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “I can’t bear to face her.”
Mars pulled a chair from the corner of the room to sit right in front of Wil, as he often did during a particularly difficult lesson. While he valued his mentor’s opinion, the prince suspected he wouldn’t like it today. He sighed inwardly while preparing himself for the reprimand he knew the Volton had rehearsed.
“Wil, you’ve always been concerned about the welfare of other people, and I’ve believed for quite some time that you will be an excellent king because of it. I know Layla broke your heart. I know you feel shame over whatever transpired between you two in the tunnels. However, if ever a time existed for you to defer to the altruistic aspect of your personality, it is now. You must save your mother and sister, and we both know you need help to do it.”
Wil flopped back against his seat. Though he’d been taught from birth that being king would occasionally demand personal sacrifice, he hadn’t been able to understand how much humility certain situations required. Now he did. If he wanted to save his mother and sister, Wil needed to swallow his humiliation and go to Layla because he did need her help. The physical strength and strategic mentality of a Vanguard eclipsed that of an Ethereal.
“I’ll go to her.”
“You would have come to this conclusion on your own, Wilhelm. Of that, I have no doubt.”
Wil grinned. “But given the time constraints, you thought you’d push me along a bit.”
“Perhaps.” Volton Mars smiled slyly.
* * * *
With a shaking hand, Wil knocked on Layla’s door. He’d used the long walk through the tunnels to figure out what to say, but he still hadn’t come up with the right words. Since his father planned to kill his mother and sister soon, Wil didn’t have the luxury of finding the perfect way to express his thoughts.
“Wil.” Layla’s eyes lit up in surprise when she saw him on the other side of the door.
As always, the very sight of her erased every other thought from his mind until only she remained. He tried in vain to swallow his anxiety. The complex emotions he’d set aside to come here swelled back to the surface. Though he wanted to turn and run, Wil forced a smile.
“May I come in?”
“Certainly.” Layla stepped back.
When their eyes met, both flushed. Memories of their last time in this room invaded his mind—the taste of her kiss, the way her hands roamed over his back, the sound of her satisfied sighs. Heat enflamed his cheeks. Layla’s face responded in kind. Was she too remembering their kiss?
Wil cleared his throat, pushing past this mental assault. “I have to save my mother and sister, and I need your help.”
“I’ll help in whatever way I can.” She peered at him from beneath her lashes, a tentative, shy smile playing at her lips.
Wil moved to take a seat at the table. The image of their entwined bodies surged to the forefront of his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to keep the mental picture away.
“The first thing we need to do is teach you to block an Alteration.” Wil refused to be deterred by his desire for her.
Layla took her seat across from him. “That sounds like a good start.”
With a nervous grin plastered on her face, he couldn’t help but smile back. Mars had been right. He usually was. However tenuous their truce, Wil knew working with Layla gave his family a better chance of rescue than acting alone.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Layla
Layla concentrated hard on the spot in front of her. She envisioned a wall around her mind, impenetrable to any attack, as Wil had instructed her. Though she had spent nearly an entire day working to secure her mind, she had no idea if it even worked. The only way to find out would be to test her abilities.
On cue, Wil knocked and entered. His tired blue eyes and haggard face spoke of another long, sleepless night. The Volton had told her that since the arrests, Wil spent most of his time trying to figure out a way to free them. Jesper refused to let them go, so the prince sought to defy the king and release them himself.
“You look tired, Wil.”
“I am, but tomorrow my father plans to hang my mother and sister. I can’t let that happen.” He slumped into one of the chairs by the table, putting his head in his hands.
Layla hopped up from the bed and crossed over to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, wishing she could alleviate some of his stress. Just like before, her hand vibrated the instant she made contact with Wil.
Ignoring the disconcerting sensation, she comforted him. “If we have to enact it, our plan is solid, Wil. They will be free by this time tomorrow.”
He placed his hand over hers, sending a jolt up her arm. “Thank you, Layla.”
“I had a thought last night. It’s probably a silly question, so forgive me, but can’t you just break them out? Perhaps you can Alter the minds of the guards or something?”
“I tried to go down there and free them, but my father had already Altered the minds of the guards. They are instructed to kill anyone who tries to get past them. When I attempted to undo what had been done, I found a Lock. I may be able to avoid The King’s Right when my father tries to exercise it upon me, but I still cannot undo what he has done. Volton Mars and I are trying to figure out how extensive my powers are, but there is very little information available, and we simply don’t have the time to gather more.” Wil sighed. “Mars seems to think I may be able to demand The King’s Right over my father though.”
“What do you think?”
“I think if I can, I will. I can’t let them die.”
Layla placed her free hand on his other shoulder and gently rubbed them. His head lolled around, a soft sound escaping his lips.
“Thank you, Layla.”
“Wil—” She stopped, unsure exactly what she meant to say, only desiring to offer him comfort.
He stiffened. After patting her hand once, he scooted away. Layla dropped her hands to her side. The tingling remained.
Wil cleared his throat. “Have you been practicing?”
Confused by his sudden change in demeanor, she nodded.
“Would you like to practice tog
ether then?”
“I would.” She pushed his rejection from her mind. “I can only do so much practice by myself, and I need to be certain I can actually block an Alteration.”
“Okay, I’m going to perform an Alteration, and I want you to block me.”
Just as she had done earlier, Layla envisioned a wall around her mind. Wil stared. She recognized the glazed look on his face as he attempted to connect their minds. A slight pressure poked at her forehead. The sensation startled her, and she nearly faltered.
For a moment, her body warmed. She saw Wil’s face in her mind. Wil’s image smiled. To see his face light up like that, grinning at her as he once had, almost cause her to drop her guard. She ground her teeth. Undeterred, Layla focused on her mental wall. The image disappeared. She blinked to find the real Wil before her, his face twisted in concentration.
“Amazing.” Wil marveled at her, his eyes wide and his mouth slack. He broke their mental connection and stood. Layla rocked back when the cord joining them together snapped.
“What?” Her face warmed, and she hated it for giving away her thoughts.
“You did in one day what it takes most Ethereals months to learn.”
“What do you mean?”
“You not only blocked me out but replaced the mind guard when it momentarily faltered. Vespa and I spent two weeks learning that feat.”
He regarded her with curiosity. Her cheeks flamed warmer under the intensity of his gaze. If only she could master a blush block…that could prove just as useful as a mind guard.
“You know, even though Nash…” Wil hesitated on his brother’s name. Awkwardness enveloped them. “Even though he couldn’t perform an Alteration as well as my sister and I, he always had a knack for blocking them. You do too. I wonder if your Vanguard strength is not just in your body but your mind as well.”