Royal Bastards

by Andrew Shvarts

  “The King will know only what I tell him. And I’ll tell him the Zitochi did it,” my father said. He leaned over Rolan, his face just inches away. “You’ve figured it out, haven’t you? You see where this is going?” My father drew his second dagger from his sheath. “Your mages will die. Lightspire will burn. And the Kingdom of the West will rise again.”

  He plunged the dagger up to the hilt into Rolan’s left eye.

  At last, I turned away. It wasn’t the blood welling out or the wet crunch or the way Rolan twitched as he died. It was the look on my father’s face, wild and unhinged and happy. All my life, I’d dreamed of cracking his stern facade and seeing the real man underneath. I’d dreamed of seeing a smile. Now I had. And I never, ever wanted to see it again.

  “Congratulations, my friends,” I heard him say. “Ten years we’ve waited for this moment. At long last, our liberation begins.”

  “The great mage dies like a man.” Grezza laughed. “Weak and begging.”

  “Most men wouldn’t have summoned lightning from their damn hands,” Lady Hampstedt replied, and when I looked back, she had her palm on Grezza’s shoulder, a little too tenderly. “How many of his Rings are still intact? We’ll need every one we can get.”

  “I see three. Maybe four.” Grezza knelt down, plucked a loose finger out of the sand. “Weak little man. I could have taken him alone, easily,” he grumbled, and pulled the Ring off with a hearty yank. It flew through the air, sparkling like a star….

  And landed right in the pile of rubble that led up to our ledge.

  Oh shit.

  Grezza walked toward the Ring. I looked back at the others, desperate, but none of us knew how to react. We stood there, frozen, as Grezza strode to the rubble and picked up the Ring. And we stood there, frozen, as he glanced idly up the cliff face and saw us.

  Grezza didn’t freeze. He reached for his ax.

  I turned back to the others. And I screamed.

  “Run!”

  I EXPECTED GREZZA TO COME charging up the hill, ax held high. I didn’t expect him to just throw the damn thing.

  It left his massive hand way too lightly and came hurtling at my head, a whirling, glistening discus of razor-sharp nightglass. I couldn’t move. Not fast enough.

  Zell tackled me from behind and shoved me to the ground, just as the ax whistled by overhead. It bounced off the stone of the outcropping with a shower of sparks, flying into the night.

  I lay there for just a fraction of a second, the weight of Zell’s body on top of me, the cold stone pressed against my face, gasping in the night air. Grezza Gaul, Chief of Clans of the Zitochi, had just attempted to murder me. And his own son had saved my life. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real.

  Then I heard Grezza’s thundering footsteps charging up the pile of rubble and decided it was probably real enough. Zell shoved off me and I lunged to my feet. In front of me, Miles and Jax were already rushing into the tunnels. Lyriana wasn’t with them, though. She was sitting on the ground, trembling, her hands clenched over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. I reached down, grabbed her hand, and jerked her up to her feet. “Come on!”

  She might’ve been in shock, but at least she moved when I pulled her. The two of us rushed through the opening in the cliff’s wall, back into the darkness of the tunnels, and Zell raced alongside us. Luckily, I hadn’t bothered to turn off my Sunstone, and it lit our path, its circle of light weaving wildly as it swung by the band around on my neck. I could just barely see the light of Miles’s Sunstone ahead, ducking around a corner, and I chased after it.

  “They killed him,” Lyriana said as we rounded the corner, her voice hollow and broken. “They killed my uncle. And they wanted to kill me.”

  “If my father catches us, he will kill us all,” Zell replied. “Keep running! Now!”

  We had one obvious advantage: Jax knew the tunnels and exactly which way to go, how to avoid the loops and dead ends. But walking through the tunnels was one thing. Running was entirely another. I tripped over loose stones and bounced off tight corners with my shoulders. Lyriana’s beautiful white dress, now torn and stained, kept getting caught around her feet, and I kept having to catch her as she fell. But still I ran, following Miles and Jax, ignoring the pain, pushing away the fear. I could be scared and upset later. Right now I needed to survive.

  Voices sounded from behind us, echoes bouncing off the wall. Our parents were in the tunnels. Grezza shouted something, a furious, muffled growl, and my father yelled back in reply. I couldn’t make out his words, but I swear he sounded upset. Maybe this was all a misunderstanding. Maybe if I just turned around and went back to him, he’d protect me. He’d wanted me by his side, after all. He’d wanted me to stand by him through whatever danger came next. Maybe it wasn’t too late to still join him.

  Next to me, Lyriana cried as she tripped, her foot caught in a hole in the ground. Could I just abandon her? Let my father kill her? The thought was horrible. But so was the thought of going on the run from my own father, of throwing away everything I’d ever dreamed about, especially when it was so close. I mean, hell, I didn’t even really like Lyriana. I still kind of wanted to slap her. Was I about to give it all up, to ruin my life for the sake of some entitled, sheltered brat from Lightspire?

  “Tilla!” Jax shouted from somewhere nearby. I turned to see him leaning against a narrow passage hidden behind some rubble, the light from Miles’s Sunstone shining distantly through. My stomach plunged at the sight of him as I realized the much more awful truth. Because this wasn’t just about Lyriana, not anymore. It was about Jax. Even if my father could be persuaded to spare me, even if I still had a chance at joining him, even if I could stomach letting Lyriana die…he’d never let some scruffy stable hand live knowing all about his terrible secret treason. I didn’t know who my father was, not anymore, but that grinning, dagger-wielding murderer down on the beach? He’d slit Jax’s throat in a heartbeat.

  I had to run. For him.

  “Over here!” Jax shouted. “We might be able to lose them!”

  I knelt down to help Lyriana through the passage, and Zell followed after. As I went to go through, Jax grabbed my shoulder. His face was pale, drenched in sweat. I’d never seen him look so scared. I think he understood. I think he knew what I knew. “What the hell is happening, Tilla? What did your father just do?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’m sorry.” For what? For getting Jax involved? For what my father had done? For being his daughter in the first place?

  I didn’t have time to think about it. “Keep moving,” I said, and the two of us pushed through the passage.

  The chamber we stepped into was familiar: the wide, empty room with the faded murals on the walls. Zell, Miles, and Lyriana stood in front of us, frozen in place for some reason. I was about to yell at them to get moving, and then I saw the flames flickering beyond and realized the room was already occupied.

  A dozen men stood opposite us, looking just as surprised as we were. Most were Zitochi warriors in dark leather armor, but there were some Westeners among them too, grizzled men with long beaded beards and convict tattoos on their arms. Fugitives, then. Mercenaries. Two held torches, casting dancing shadows along the chamber’s walls. The others wielded weapons: nightglass daggers and hand axes, even a full-length broadsword.

  “Oh no,” Zell whispered.

  “‘Oh no,’” one of the Zitochi repeated in a high-pitched voice, and stepped forward. I recognized him from the feast: Zell’s older brother, Razz. The one who had been sent to kill Lyriana. “I’ve been looking for you, Princess,” he said, and his voice almost sounded flirtatious. “Too bad my baby brother found you first. Guess we’ve always had the same taste in girls.”

  Our group pushed together instinctively, Zell and Jax stepping to the front. Miles was visibly trembling, and Lyriana didn’t look much better. I pushed myself in front of them, even as I knew I couldn’t do any good.

  “Brother.” Zell stepped forwa
rd, raising his empty hands. “Let’s talk about this. You don’t understand what’s happening here.”

  “Oh, shut up, Zell,” Razz said. I got a good look at him for the first time, and I didn’t like what I saw. He had the same handsome features as his brother, but on him they looked wrong, twisted somehow. A thin scar in the shape of a fishhook cut up his right cheek. His bloodshot eyes looked blank, empty. Everyone else in the room was tense, but he was grinning, and there was something very wrong with his smile, like his teeth were there but also not, flickering white and black in the torchlight.

  Then I realized it. They were flickering because they weren’t teeth at all, but pointed nightglass, fused to his gums the way Zell’s blades grew from his knuckles.

  He’d had his canines replaced with nightglass fangs.

  I stepped back involuntarily. I needed to get as far from him as I could.

  “When we found the Princess missing from her room, I wondered if we were dealing with a traitor,” Razz said. “And when we followed that reeking perfume of hers to these tunnels, well, I knew it had to be an inside job.” He reached behind his back and jerked his weapons out of their scabbards: a pair of curved daggers, razor-sharp on one end, jagged and serrated on the other. They didn’t just look designed to kill. They look designed to hurt. “But to think! It was you! My pathetic, snow-cub brother! Is this seriously where you found your balls? This is how you finally get your revenge?”

  Even with his accent, the tone sounded familiar. He reminded me of Val, a butcher’s son who’d laughed as he made me watch him drown a piglet. It wasn’t just the emptiness in his eyes or the cruel curl of his mouth. It was the tension oozing off him, the nervousness, the way his hatred and aggression seemed forced, like he had to constantly hurt others just to keep his own thoughts at bay. Zitochi or Westerner, all bullies were the same.

  “This isn’t about us, Razz,” Zell said. “This is bigger. More important. This is about our people. Our future! Our father has sold us out, all of us. He’s conspiring with the Lord of this House to bring a war to our lands!”

  The other warriors looked toward Razz, who just shook his head. “Did you hear that, men?” he shouted. “Because I know what I heard. ‘Wah wah wah, my feelings got hurt. Wah wah wah, my daddy is so mean!’” He laughed, and his men laughed with him. A few tightened their grips on their weapons. Zell stepped back, sucking in his breath. He must have finally realized just how screwed we were.

  “Kill them all,” Razz said. “Leave the snow cub for me.”

  The warriors advanced. Zell whipped his sword out of its sheath, its thin, delicately curved blade sparkling dangerously. Miles let out a pitiful wail, and Jax stepped up to Zell’s side. My hands clenched into fists. I didn’t know what was going to happen or what I could do. But I knew I would go down fighting.

  A hand pressed against my back. Lyriana stepped forward, pushing past me and Zell and Jax to stand in the front. I was going to pull her back, but there was something different about her. Her cheeks were still slick with tears, but her eyes didn’t look hopeless anymore. They looked hard, focused, furious. The air around her crackled as she walked. The taste of snow and frost filled my mouth. A cold wind swirled around her.

  “You were going to kill me,” she said, and her voice was impossibly deep and unearthly, the rumblings of mountains grinding together. “I came here as a guest…and you were going to kill me.”

  She reached out her hand, extending her long, elegant fingers. She’d finally taken off her gloves.

  And for the first time, I saw her Rings.

  A concussive blast of force burst out of her hand, hitting the warriors like a focused hurricane. They flew off their feet, slamming into the walls of the cavern, their weapons shattering, their torches flying away. Deep rifts spiderwebbed out in the walls behind them, like cracks in a pane of glass. The ground shook beneath our feet. Dust rained down from the ceiling.

  “You killed my uncle!” Lyriana screamed, and the air sucked in around her hand, gathering for another blast.

  Razz, lying in a heap on the ground, was the first to respond. “She’s a gods-damned witch!” he screamed, and hurled one of his daggers.

  It grazed Lyriana’s shoulder, barely cutting her, but it was still enough to throw her off balance. She jerked to the side, and the blast ripped out of her hand straight into the side of the chamber, blasting a hole through the wall with an explosive spray of dirt and stone. The tunnels trembled. Chunks rained down from the ceiling, not just dust, but whole, fist-size slabs of stone. One of the Zitochi screamed in pain. Jax tumbled over into the dirt.

  The ground lurched hard beneath me, like a horse bolting. I fell onto one knee and found myself staring into the hole Lyriana had blown through the wall. Cold, stale air gusted through the darkness, and I could hear the sound of rushing water. The underground river, the one we’d heard earlier. It was nearby, much closer than I’d thought.

  “Kill them!” Razz yelled, and a few of his men staggered up to their feet. The walls of the chamber buckled and groaned.

  Even as my heart thundered in my chest, even with dirt blinding my eyes, I realized one thing with absolute clarity: if we stayed here, we’d die.

  I grabbed Lyriana and lunged forward, through the hole in the wall, into the darkness.

  I’d expected solid ground, but instead my feet hit a steep, crumbling slope. I managed to get out the very beginning of a scream before plunging down in a fumbling, painful roll. I immediately lost my grip on Lyriana. My Sunstone jostled around wildly, illuminating the barest glimpses of where I was: a weathered stone ceiling, jutting stalagmites, scattered piles of stone. The tunnels must have been built into a natural cave system, and I was hurtling through it head over heels, falling down this hill to who knows where. I could hear Lyriana screaming, and other voices following after, maybe Miles and Jax, maybe Razz and his men.

  The slope ended, and I fell off it. For a horrible five seconds, I was in free fall, flailing through the air, waiting for impact. Then I hit water, stunningly cold, like being shoved into a bucket of ice—a bucket of ice with a raging current. I was underwater, choking, wrenched along by a force far too strong to swim against. The roar of the river drowned out the world. I went under, then out, then under, then out. When Jax and I were kids, we played a game when we went swimming where we’d try to dunk each other below the water. This was like that, except horrible and terrifying. I gasped and gagged, flailing as the river’s current hurled me downstream.

  I pushed above the surface just in time to see the ceiling of the cave vanish, replaced by the twinkling stars of the night sky, zooming by as if they were all falling. I could even make out the green glow of the Coastal Lights. The river must have exited the cave, which was good, except that meant it was carrying us out to sea. I twisted around and could just barely make out a sandy shore, but I was being pulled away from it far too quickly.

  A chunk of debris slammed hard into my back. Pain flared through my side, so severe I felt it tingling through my fingers. I whipped around the debris and went back under, but now I didn’t have the strength to fight. The current dragged me down. I gasped, and water flooded my lungs, dank and foul. My eyes burned. My side ached. I felt the water plunge me down into the depths. I was scared, so scared I’d crossed into a strange, shocked calm.

  I was going to die here. I was going to drown in the current and be carried out to sea, my bones forgotten like so many others’. I was going to die a sixteen-year-old virgin without a last name, who never got to become a Lady or travel to Lightspire or even fall in love. I was going to die.

  Then something grabbed me. It wasn’t a hand, not quite. It felt like I was suddenly wrapped up in something warm and glowing and safe. It was like being draped in a snug blanket after coming in from the rain, like being hugged by your father after you’d just been crying. It wasn’t just physically warm. It was comforting, loving, reassuring. This warm something, whatever it was, grabbed me as I sank and lifted me
up, gently, tenderly, out of the depths.

  I gasped after breaching the surface and spat out murky black water. The force that held me lifted me up into the air, so I was floating a good foot above the ocean. A yellow light enveloped me in its soft glow, and I knew that was what was holding me up, where that feeling of safety and warmth was coming from. Droplets of water floated off my skin and hovered impossibly in front of me, like snowflakes dancing at winter’s first fall.

  I heard a gasp, so I craned my head as much as I could. There were more yellow lights behind me, and in them, more people: Miles, Zell, and Jax, all hanging above the water in glowing bubbles, all looking as stunned as I was. I tried to shout out to them, but my lungs still hurt too much, so I just made a soft grunt, one that sounded happier than it should have. I couldn’t help myself. I was just so, so safe.

  I felt a jerking motion and realized we weren’t just hovering anymore, but moving. That same force that was holding the bubbles pulled us through the darkness, away from the ocean crashing behind us. Now that I wasn’t sinking, I could see the cave’s exit, a gaping maw in the side of a stony cliff face, the river rushing out like a flickering tongue. But we weren’t being carried back into the cave. We were pulled instead to the side, toward a long, white-sand beach just by the river’s edge, laid out under the cliff side. There was one more light on this beach, this one tall and thin and stationary. A figure stood at the heart of it, arms raised up, head cocked back, hands glowing bright.

  I couldn’t tell where the light ended and where Lyriana began. Her hair had streaks of gold running through it, pulsing like rivulets of molten metal. The Rings on her fingers were burning so brightly I couldn’t even see her hands. Her pupils and irises were completely gone; her eyes were all yellow, twin suns bursting with light in the middle of her face.

  She waved her hands forward, and we all drifted toward her, onto the shore. I felt my feet touch solid ground. The warm glow released me, and I tumbled down. I’d never been so happy to get a faceful of sand. I spat out the last of the water with a hacking cough, even as I heard the impacts of the three guys hitting the ground around me. Zell landed in a neat crouch, bracing himself with one hand. Miles fell straight into the sand. Jax collapsed into a heap, panting and gasping.