Shielded

by KayLynn Flanders

  The emissary led us into the trees, and a wave of shocked sounds rippled through the camp, slowly at first, then faster as soldiers stepped out to gawk.

  My shoulder blades itched from the stares aimed at our backs as we walked through the Hálendian camp. Enzo stayed close beside me.

  A familiar palomino horse stood outside the general’s large round tent, a wreath of white flowers around her neck.

  “Gentry?” I blurted out, elated to see my horse had survived the Wild.

  The emissary licked his lips, his gaze darting to the horse. “The general came back from the Wild riding her after you…He brought her as a reminder of what we fight for.”

  I rubbed Gentry’s nose. “I’ll bring you a treat later,” I whispered to her. “After I deal with these ice heads.” She nickered and pushed her nose into my neck.

  The emissary cleared his throat and opened the flap. He wouldn’t look at any of us.

  “I don’t like this,” Luc whispered.

  It was too late to turn around now. I held my head tall as I entered the large round tent behind Ren, the others following.

  A table separated us from General Leland, who had a group of muddy warriors, his high captains and lieutenants, with heavy eyes and bloodstained hands standing behind him. Their eyes widened when they recognized Ren and me.

  Cris stood next to Leland, eyes fixed on the floor.

  “Prince Atháren, it really is you.” Leland moved his hands to his hips. “And Princess. I thought it impossible you could survive on your own in the Wild.”

  I frowned at his greeting. And why would Cris not even look at us? “King Marko has protected me in Turiana these past weeks, General. He was not responsible for sending the Gray Mage against us. It’s time to stop this war.”

  Leland stilled. A smile spread across his features, the blood flecks on his face transforming the gesture into a gruesome sight. “Ah, yes, my lady. We can send a runner to the council and—”

  “Turia is not at fault for the death of my father,” Ren said. “There is a greater threat we must face.” Ren’s shoulders straightened, and his eyes flashed as they made contact with each man and woman in the tent. “Our ancient pledge is to protect the people of this land, not fight against them.”

  “Nevertheless,” said Leland with a casual shrug, “we will need the council’s permission to cease fighting.”

  Leland’s high captains remained grim statues, but some of the lieutenants fidgeted, murmurs rippling through the tent.

  My brother shoved Leland’s table, tipping it over and scattering the papers that had been stacked on it. Leland’s captains reached for their swords, but no one drew their weapon.

  “You do not need the council’s permission, and you know it, General,” Ren snapped. “You shot down a white flag! I am—”

  “What is this, Leland?” My quiet voice silenced everyone. I bent to retrieve a stack of letters that had fallen at my feet. A scrap with burned edges slipped out from the pile and fluttered to the ground. My hands shook. The note I’d left with my father.

  But the other notes were whole—and in the same handwriting. Several of them mentioned a Black Library. That was a term I’d never heard of in Hálendi. But one the mages would know.

  Enzo picked up another stack, brown flecks staining them. These were addressed to Ambassador Ernir. “The ambassador never returned to Hálendi,” Enzo whispered, but his voice cut through the tension in the tent. “And you have his letters. With blood on them.”

  My eyes darted between Leland and Cris. “Why didn’t you tell them we were alive, Cris?”

  The general pinched the bridge of his nose. “You said you had handled the problem, Cris.”

  What? He couldn’t mean—

  Cris swallowed. His gaze finally shifted from the ground. “There has to be another way…”

  Ren shattered the silence with ringing metal as he drew his sword and swung at Leland.

  Cris pulled his own blade and blocked Ren’s strike. “Wait!” he cried.

  Ren’s chest heaved, but he didn’t attack. “What is going on, Cris?” he asked. “You are like a brother to me.” Ren’s voice cracked. “Tell me Leland didn’t mean what I think he means.” His hands whitened around his hilt. Enzo touched my back, clenching the fabric of my shirt.

  “You never understood!” Cris screamed at Ren, and I flinched at the sudden sound. “You had everything I ever wanted,” he snarled. “A family who loved you, the respect of the kingdom—”

  “Silence!” Leland shouted. He rubbed his forehead and sighed.

  Cris stopped talking, but he didn’t lower his sword.

  Ren spoke with deadly calm. “Leland, as future king, I command you to cease—”

  “You have no power to command my army.” The general’s face twisted.

  Enzo took a step closer to me, but I couldn’t move. My brother was here. I was alive. That was supposed to stop the fighting.

  “I told Graymere I would take care of the problem,” Leland said, “and I will.” His men stirred behind him, but the general’s calm voice stilled the ripples of whispers. “You are not the king yet, young prince.”

  Leland jerked his chin down, and Cris swung his blade toward Ren’s chest. My heart stopped as everyone around me sprang to action. Three high captains lunged for Ren. Luc and Carver drew their weapons, and the lieutenants tried to stop the captains from behind.

  I never saw Leland’s hand tightening over the dagger at the side of his belt.

  Suddenly, Enzo yanked on my shirt, pulling me backward and diving in front of me. Leland’s dagger, aimed at me, ripped into Enzo’s side instead.

  I fell in slow motion, watching the blade slide deeper and deeper, sinking until the hilt slammed against his ribs.

  Luc’s sword ran Leland through.

  Enzo’s eyes were closing as I screamed his name and gripped his shirt in my hands.

  He opened his mouth, and I leaned down to hear him over the melee, but no sound came out.

  “Enzo!” A pool of deep red spread around him. I pulled the dagger out and pressed my hands against his wound. The blood flowed freely, soaking into the etchings on my ring.

  Yesilia had said…focus on getting the body to piece itself back together.

  My eyes slammed closed, and I dug into my depleted well of magic, trying to push it into Enzo, to will his body to heal. His deep-green eyes were shockingly bright against his gray skin. He was dying. There was too much blood. Too much—

  “No, Enzo, stay with me,” I sobbed, trying to keep his wound closed, to keep his blood inside. “Ren, help!”

  Luc pulled his sword from the general’s chest, and blood splattered against the white tent wall as his sword met Cris’s. Ren dropped to the ground. He shook his head, hands open, palms up. “I-I’m not at full strength. I don’t think I can heal him.”

  “Try,” I begged. “Please try.”

  Ren swallowed hard, then covered my hands with his. The shouting and the scent of blood and dirt assaulted my senses.

  Leland—a man I had trusted, my father had trusted—had tried to kill me. And now Enzo, who was only here because of me, lay dying under my hands.

  Focus.

  I again dug deep, my magic pulling at Enzo’s flesh, willing it to come together. But it wasn’t working. There wasn’t enough; I didn’t know how to heal, and I was still too drained.

  Ren panted. “There’s too much blood.”

  “No!” I remembered my fight with Graymere, how I pushed back through the tethers. “I can help you,” I whispered as I closed my eyes, pulling my focus inward.

  “What?” Ren leaned into my shoulder, weakening.

  “Keep going, I…” The shredded tether. It hadn’t snapped with death—it had been Graymere’s magic that disconnected it. I pulled what magic I h
ad, wrapping it where the tethers were, letting it soak into Ren’s.

  A jolt ran through me—my connection to my brother stitched together, not as strong as it once was, but a thin thread emerged from the broken tethers. I took everything I had and pushed it along that thread. To Ren.

  He muttered something next to me, but I was too deep inside myself to comprehend. Yesilia’s warning came back to me, to not use too much of myself. But I didn’t care. Enzo could have every last ounce of my life force, as long as he lived.

  “Jenna, stop!” Ren pulled me hard enough that I sat back on the ground.

  Enzo’s blood pooled on the ground around us, and his skin was still gray. But his wound had closed and his breathing had eased.

  “You did it,” I said, slumping against Ren.

  He panted next to me, his wonder danced along our tender connection. “We both did. How did you…What was that?”

  I shook my head. It had worked. “I used the tethers to give you what magic I had left.”

  “Glaciers,” he muttered. Ren’s emotions shifted to something heavier, and I followed his gaze. Papers scattered the ground, soaking up blood. Cris was gone, Leland’s body lay next to us. Three of Leland’s captains knelt, hands at the backs of their heads, with a lieutenant guarding them. Luc and the others from both camps had banded together around us, gripping each other’s shoulders.

  Luc knelt down, his jaw tense, a question he couldn’t ask screaming from his eyes.

  “I can’t know for sure,” Ren said, “but I think he’ll recover.”

  Luc slumped in relief, and the men in the tent released a collective sigh, a few patting each other on the back.

  I looked at the Hálendian captain with the highest rank who hadn’t fought against us. “Captain, there are mages loose on the Plateau, and if we don’t unite forces, we’ll all be destroyed. The war ends today.”

  The captain placed his fist on his shoulder and bowed. “Yes, Your Highness.”

  Ren pulled himself up, grasping the hand of Lord Carver. “We need to get Enzo comfortable here. We can’t take him injured into the Turian camp without causing an uproar.”

  Lord Carver nodded once. “I’ll return and deliver the news. We can meet again at noon and discuss the details of the treaty.” He glanced at Enzo again. “But if Prince Enzo doesn’t recover from this—”

  “He’ll recover.” I brushed the hair from Enzo’s forehead, but I kept thinking about General Leland. He was working with Graymere. He’d betrayed my father. So why, then, had he saved my life? Why would he—

  And then I remembered what he had said. Master Hafa had shouted that I would never survive in the Wild, and Leland had pushed me to go anyway. “You think I don’t know that?” he had said. Then he’d burst into the Wild, his murderous gaze fixed on me. He’d been the lone survivor.

  I pushed away the sorrow and betrayal, and kept hold of Enzo’s hand as two men lifted him, carrying him to a new tent and settling him onto a bed stuffed with straw. My body was shutting down from the toll of the magic. I’d drained everything for the second day in a row.

  Another stuffed bed was hauled in for me, but I climbed next to Enzo and pulled his arm around me, hoping my warmth would keep him from the cold darkness he’d saved me from before. Luc stood aimlessly at the door of the tent, watching the Hálendians work. “Luc?” He snapped to attention, the lost look fading away. “Keep us safe.”

  He nodded once and folded his arms over his chest as Ren crawled onto the second bed. Luc ushered everyone out, then took up his position outside. The first raindrops pinged against the trees above the tent. The storm had arrived. But I fell asleep knowing I’d given Enzo all that I could.

  “Don’t give up,” I whispered.

  Rain still pattered against the canvas roof when I woke curled up against Enzo. His skin looked better, no longer gray, after only a few hours of sleep. Luc spoke with someone outside, and I eased up and sat on a cushion by the bed. Ren stepped into the tent, brushing water off a borrowed cloak. I gathered Enzo’s hand in mine—I couldn’t bear to sever contact completely. Not when he’d been so close to death.

  “Did you already meet with Lord Carver?” I whispered.

  He nodded and sat on a rickety stool in the corner. Enzo’s fingers brushed against my hand, and my eyes flew to his. He was still pale, but his soft smile lit me up inside. The tight fist squeezing my lungs loosened. He’d awoken.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  I swallowed; I couldn’t speak over the lump in my throat, so Ren answered. “You were as good as dead, Enzo. That dagger was in up to the hilt.”

  Enzo looked to me and cleared his throat. “You healed me?”

  “Ren and I together,” I whispered. He’d been so close to death.

  Enzo, sensing how close I was to falling apart, turned the conversation to Ren. “You said you met with Lord Carver?” His voice was raw, so I helped him sit up, propping pillows behind him, then ladled water for him from the bucket by my feet.

  Ren nodded. “We negotiated a truce that we’ll both take back to our councils to be ratified, but we are moving forward with an immediate end to the fighting. Oh, and I hope you both don’t mind, but I set a wedding date for you.”

  Enzo choked on the water he’d been drinking, and I almost dropped the ladle into his lap. Ren’s lips twitched once before he broke out into a laugh. I threw the ladle, and he fell off the stool trying to dodge it.

  “Word of advice, Enzo?” Ren said as he brushed dirt off his backside. “Don’t sneak up on her.”

  Enzo started to laugh, but held his side with a groan. A soldier ducked in, bringing food, and we split it among ourselves.

  While we ate, Ren explained that those whose land had been destroyed by troops were to be compensated from Hálendi’s treasury, and Hálendi would allow Turia use of its port without a tax for the next ten years. I knew Turia could have asked for more, but Ren and Lord Carver wanted to keep relations as amicable as possible—they both understood there were too many unknown pieces still playing on the Plateau to squabble over details.

  My brother had somehow transformed into a king.

  So many unanswered questions still lay before us. Something bothered me, though. “Ren, why did everyone think you’d died?”

  Ren scrubbed his hands over his face. “The lieutenants said Leland told everyone he’d received a message saying my body had been found near North Watch.” Ren sighed. “No one ever saw the message, though. Father must have suspected something when he sent me away in secret. And now I have no general for my army, and who knows how many counselors and captains are still loyal to him.” His shoulders slumped. “If Hálendi doesn’t want me, can I come live with you in Turiana?”

  “Chin up, Ren,” I told him. “You’ll figure it out.”

  He laughed, but his eyes were still dull.

  “So you’re returning, then?” I asked. I’d just gotten him back, but he had a whole kingdom waiting for him. And we’d need Hálendi’s strength to combat the new risk to the Plateau. “There are still two mages on the Plateau. Brownlok and the Red Mage.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Ren groaned. “We’ll need to work out a plan with King Marko, figure out what to do about the mages and the library, how to best combine our resources. But, yes, then I’ll need to go home.”

  “We may have another issue, here,” Enzo said. “Didn’t Kais use magic to form a barrier between the Ice Deserts and our people?”

  “Cavolo,” I muttered. I’d forgotten that little detail. “They could only be released if someone summoned them. Do you think Leland…?”

  But Ren was shaking his head. “How would he have known how to? Or that there was even a chance they existed?”

  My stomach sank. “So someone else on the Plateau is in league with the mages.”

  “And two mages wer
e looking for a key,” Enzo said. “And maybe a map.”

  I had to hope that they didn’t have a map yet, that wherever Kais had hidden it was secure. Because if all they lacked was the Medallion, that meant they’d come after Ren next. And I wouldn’t be able to protect him if he was in Hálendi.

  Ren leaned forward, elbows on his knees “So we find the mages and kill them.”

  I shook my head. “The only reason the mages are still alive is because Kais couldn’t find them.”

  “We could at least try, though.” Ren scrubbed a hand over his face. “Maybe we should destroy the Medallion.” But his words lacked conviction. The Medallion, after all, had been our father’s and had served Hálendi well for years.

  “I don’t think we should destroy the Medallion—what if the mages somehow find the library anyway?” Enzo said. “As long as it’s there, someone will always try to find it and use it.”

  An idea started buzzing in me. “Okay, but what if we try to find it?” They stared, brows furrowed in a look so identical I wanted to laugh. “If we find the Black Library first, we can destroy it.”

  “How?” Ren asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. But Graymere’s sword is there. The Black Mage’s crystal staff. They might have enough power to do it.”

  Ren shook his head. “I meant, how will we find the Black Library first?”

  Enzo slipped his hand into mine. “Maybe there’s something in the library here. A clue that would help us.”

  “Possibly,” I said. “Brownlok came here to search for something in the library, after all. Maybe he didn’t find it. I can help you look.”

  Ren nodded, then cleared his throat. “About your…betrothal,” he started, rubbing his neck. “I know it was originally arranged to bring troops to Hálendi, but if you don’t want to, I won’t force either of you into this. We’ll renegotiate. Find another way.”

  Enzo tilted his head. “I’ve told Jenna want I want.” He spoke to Ren but kept his eyes on me.