by Morgan Rice
Aidan marched for his father’s chamber impatiently, Leo at his side, with a deepening premonition that something was wrong. He had been searching for his sister Kyra all over the fort, Leo at his side, checking all her usual haunts—the armory, the blacksmith’s, Fighter’s Gate—and yet she was nowhere to be found. He and Kyra had always had a close connection, ever since he was born, and he always knew when something was off with her—now, he felt warning signs inside. She had been absent from the feast, and he knew she would have not missed it.
Most concerning of all, Leo was not with her—which never, ever happened. Aidan had grilled Leo, but the wolf, clearly trying to tell him something, could not communicate. He only stuck to Aidan’s side, and would not leave it.
Aidan had spent the feast with a knot in his stomach, checking the door constantly for any sign of Kyra. He had tried to mention it to his father during the meal, but Duncan had been surrounded by too many men, all of them too focused on discussing the battle to come, and none taking him seriously.
At first light Aidan, awake all night, jumped up and ran to his window, checking the breaking dawn for any sign of her. There was none. He burst out of his chamber, down the corridor, past all his father’s men and into Kyra’s room and he did not even knock as he put a shoulder to it, running inside, looking for her.
But his heart had fallen to find her bed empty, still made from the day before. He knew then, for certain, something was wrong.
Aidan ran all the way down the corridors to his father’s chambers, and now he stood before the giant door and looked back at the two guards before it.
“Open the door!” Aidan ordered urgently.
The guards exchanged an unsure look.
“It was a long night, boy,” one guard said. “Your father won’t take kindly to being awakened.”
“Today could bring battle,” said the other. “He needs to be rested.”
“I will not say it again,” Aidan insisted.
They looked at him, skeptical, and Aidan, unable to wait, rushed forward and slammed the knocker.
“Whoa, boy!” one of them said.
Then realizing his determination, the other guard said, “All right—but it’s your head if anything happens. And the wolf stays here.”
Leo snarled, but the guard reluctantly pushed open the door just enough for Aidan to step inside, closing it behind him.
Aidan rushed to his father’s bed to find him sleeping in his furs, snoring, a half-dressed serving girl lying beside him. He grabbed his father’s shoulder and shoved him, again and again.
Finally, his father opened his eyes with a fierce look, staring back as if he were going to whack him. But Aidan would not be deterred.
“Father, you must wake up now!” Aidan urged. “Kyra is missing!”
His father’s look morphed into one of confusion, and he stared back, eyes bloodshot, as if in a drunken haze.
“Missing?” he said, his voice deep, gravelly, rumbling in his chest. “What do you mean?”
“She did not return to her chamber last night. Something has happened to her—I’m certain of it. Alert your men at once!”
His father sat up, this time looking more alert, rubbing his face and trying to shake off the sleep.
“I am sure your sister is fine,” he said. “She’s always fine. She survived an encounter with a dragon—do you think a small snowstorm blew her away? She’s just somewhere you cannot find her—she likes to go off by herself. Now go on. Be on your way before you end up with a good spanking.”
But Aidan stood there, determined, red-faced.
“If you won’t find her, I’ll find her myself,” he yelled and turned and ran from the chamber, hoping that somehow he had gotten through to him.