Powers of the Six

by Kristal Shaff

  “Yes, if we’re caught, we’ll die. But at least you won’t be Rol’dan.”

  Alec nodded. “But what about you? You’re already free. Why would you become a traitor? Why risk your life for me?”

  “I’d gain a chance to be myself for the first time in two years. And besides …” He inhaled and released a breath slowly. “I need to stop hiding and doing nothing.”

  Alec met his eyes, and a flicker of Speed light flared in their depths. His lips parted into a wide grin. “Aye. And it’s about time, too.”

  The tent flap opened, and a young Rol’dan soldier poked his head inside. “Alec, we need to get back to the lodge. They’re giving us our last-minute orders before we prepare for the journey home.”

  Alec punched Nolan’s arm. “Talk to you later.” He ducked around the young soldier and went outside.

  Nolan rubbed his stinging arm and opened the tent flap; his stomach dropped. The young soldier bore the orange cape of the Perception Rol’dan. By Brim! What did he hear?

  Alec and the soldier passed the torch post where Nolan had found Alec earlier. They stopped. Alec picked up a bag, flung it over his shoulder, and then continued on.

  Nolan closed the flap, his heart racing. Their plans could be ruined before they even started.

  With shaking hands, Nolan gathered scrolls for the families of those who would not return. He couldn’t even imagine how Uncle Camden would feel when instead of a daughter, a scroll returned in her place. Camden was not the type of man who took pleasure in glory or fame. Unlike Nolan’s father, Camden would mourn the loss deeply.

  Nolan also wrote a proclamation for Alec’s father, though Alec would arrive in Alton to tell his father personally; Alton was one of the many stops between here and Faylinn. It would be an unpleasant reunion between Alec and his father. Unlike Nolan’s uncle, the news would bring a whole different type of grief upon Kardos Deverell.

  He packed the rest of his meager belongings and scanned the tent one last time. This would be his last trip to the Tournament of Awakening. An odd mixture of sadness, fear, and excitement stirred inside him. Either they’d free Emery, or they’d be discovered, labeled as traitors, and put to death.

  Nolan wasn’t sure which option scared him more.

  Alec and Taryn flashed in his mind, as well as Emery Cadogan, sitting in the West Tower of Alton alone. There was no turning back. Three people now depended on him. A new, open page of Nolan’s life had begun.

  Chapter Thirteen

  NOLAN LEANED AGAINST THE SIDE of the boat. The warm breeze brushed his face, and the sun filtered through his closed eyelids. He inhaled and released it slowly, doing his best to enjoy the beautiful weather. The water’s gentle churning was peaceful, as well as the soft melodies of the frogs and birds as they drifted along. But nothing Nolan did, nor any forest sounds, could calm his nerves as they neared Alton.

  The task before them was immense. Some might say impossible. Guards were stationed around the clock, and the Rol’dan would be among those who watched. There would be only a short amount of time to rescue Emery before Kael took him to King Alcandor. Poor Emery’s only chance lay in the hands of a scribe and a hotheaded youth. But even so, they weren’t without hope.

  Nolan could come and go in the manor without suspicion. He also now had a sling—the first weapon he’d owned—and though most might think it a worthless weapon, it was easy to hide, quiet, and went well with his Accuracy Shay. But Nolan’s most important tool had nothing to do with him. That weapon lay in the superb sword skills and Speed of Alec Deverell.

  A shadow blocked the sun from his closed eyes. Nolan opened them to Alec standing above.

  Nolan smiled. “I was thinking of you.”

  “Good things, I hope.”

  “Are you allowed to come amongst the inferior, common folk?” Nolan asked.

  “I don’t think they noticed.” Alec motioned toward a group of Rol’dan. They reclined under a canopy, sipping frothy mugs and laughing obnoxiously.

  “Besides,” Alec said, “it’s getting far too crowded over there with their swollen heads.”

  Nolan laughed. “Well then, welcome to where the smaller heads reside.”

  Alec exhaled a deep sigh. “Thanks. I can’t take it anymore.” He plopped next to Nolan and placed his leather bag in his lap. Side by side, they sat in silence.

  After some time, Nolan yawned and noticed Alec gazing at the riverbank as it drifted by. Nolan’s eyes dropped to Alec’s lap where his hands rested on his leather bag. It was simple, as far as bags went. Worn spots marred the edges. He started at it, unable to pull his eyes away.

  “Nolan?”

  Nolan shook his head.

  “You awake?” Alec asked.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Well, I asked you how you’ve been getting along, but you never answered.”

  “I’m sorry. Tired, I suppose.” Nolan ran a hand over his face. “Have you had time to talk to Taryn?”

  “No,” Alec said, his expression becoming more serious. “She’s on the first boat. General Trividar hasn’t let her out of his sight. I think he separated us on purpose.”

  It sounded like Kael, considering all the attention he’d lavished on her.

  “What’s with him, anyway?” Alec asked. “They’re cousins, for Brim’s sake. And he’s too old for her.”

  “I don’t think it has anything to do with Taryn.”

  Alec grunted. “Oh? Did you see the way he looks at her?”

  “It has more to do with her mother.”

  “Her mother? How so?”

  Nolan sighed, trying to decide the best way to explain the complicated relationship. “When my mother died, Alana, Taryn’s mother, sort of stepped in and helped our family. She was a neighborhood girl. I was only a baby, and she became the mom I never knew. Kael, on the other hand, was old enough to notice her differently.”

  “I see.” Alec sat up and moved his hands to his lap, fidgeting with the strap on his bag, drawing Nolan’s attention to it again. “So he loved her?”

  “More like an obsession,” Nolan answered. “She was eight years older than he was and never saw him the same way he saw her. Eventually, she fell in love with my uncle, Camden. They married soon after. Kael has never gotten over her.”

  Their conversation faded into silence. Nolan’s memories of his family muddled with escape plans, but his eyes kept darting to the bag in Alec’s lap. Why in the name of Brim am I so focused on the cursed thing?

  Finally, Nolan couldn’t take it any longer. “What are you carrying?”

  Alec looked puzzled, and then he followed Nolan’s gaze. “In here?”

  “Yes. In there.”

  “Why?”

  Nolan shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. “Was curious.”

  Alec opened it and removed a crumpled, bloodstained tunic. “Some clothes, mostly. At least what’s left of them. The tournament destroyed most of my things.”

  Nolan craned his neck, trying to peer in. Alec stuffed the contents back in and placed it on his other side.

  “I’m sure your bag is more interesting than mine,” Alec said.

  Nolan forced a laugh. “I’m not sure how exciting ink and quills would be.” He looked to the barge in front of them. A Rol’dan soldier leaned on the railing, staring. Nolan’s heart choked in his throat; it was the Perception Rol’dan who had reclaimed Alec from the tent the other night, the same one who might’ve heard their conversation.

  Nolan nudged Alec. “Who’s that?”

  The soldier quickly looked away.

  Alec’s arm tensed. “His name is Daren Kinsley. He’s pretty new. Came into Perception a few months before the trials—a mining accident or something. Never found out all the details. But I guess it was bad enough it forced his Shay power.”

  Nolan and Alec’s eyes met in silent understanding. Their conversation wasn’t safe anymore.

  ***

  When their boats rounded a bend in the river, the cit
y of Alton came into view. Behind the docks, large stone walls surrounded the city. Guards stood at their posts atop the wall, leaning forward as they watched the approach. A horde of people gathered on the docks, cheering as they caught sight of the boats.

  The people pushed each other while waving flags of the Rol’dan.

  Though Alec hadn’t mentioned home since starting their journey, Nolan could see the fear of confronting his father lining Alec’s scarred face.

  They bumped against the dock and jumped from the boats, wedging behind a wall of guards pushing against the crowd.

  Alec yelled over the commotion, “What’s with these people? Don’t they have anything better to do?”

  “It’s our welcome home,” Nolan said. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen this. You’ve lived in Alton all your life.”

  “I always heard the noise from the shop, but I never imagined …” Alec shook his head. “My father always kept me at home. Said he wouldn’t watch the Rol’dan parade their new dogs …” He flinched and said no more.

  “Over here!” Nolan motioned toward a heavily decorated wagon. Rol’dan banners draped the edges, and gaudy, rainbow-plumed horses shifted on their reins.

  Alec gawked at Nolan with a sour expression, one that obviously said, You can’t be serious.

  “You don’t have a choice.” Nolan prodded. “Besides, do you think it’s a good time to bring attention to yourself?”

  The jailbreak would happen soon. Conflict pinched his face, the war between stubborn resolve and wise judgment. After his brief internal battle, he cast Nolan a glare quite similar to Kardos Deverell and climbed into the wagon.

  The remaining passengers boarded and, with a crack of a whip, the wagon began the slow procession through the streets of Alton. A robust cheer erupted from the mob as they followed along, all trying to get a glimpse of the fortunate few. The only people who remained with Nolan were the families of those who returned from failing the trials; they hugged their children as they led them back to lives of mediocrity.

  Nolan smiled at the happy reunions, that is, until he spotted a man standing alone. Unlike the others, his solemn face paled.

  Kardos Deverell stared at the retreating procession as if it were a death march. Nolan took a step toward him, not knowing what he’d say. But he needn’t worry, for a body blocked Nolan’s path.

  Nolan looked around the annoying person only to see Kardos stomping off. Nolan had a feeling the man was making straight for the pub to drown his sorrows.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” a voice said, “but are you Nolan?”

  For the first time, Nolan focused on the woman in front of him. He inhaled sharply. Several weeks earlier, he’d admired this girl when he’d sat in Aunt Bonty’s pub.

  “W-what did you say?” Nolan stammered. What is she doing here?

  “Are you Nolan?” She bit her bottom lip, waiting.

  In the pub, her hair had looked plain brown. Daylight brought out reddish tints in the thick, brown locks. She wore it down today, and it made her prettier than before, if that were possible. His eyes fixed on her mouth, and he wondered what it would be like to kiss her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I made a mistake.” She turned to leave.

  “Wait!”

  She faced Nolan again.

  “Yes, I’m Nolan. We haven’t met before, have we?”

  “No. We have a mutual friend.”

  Perhaps Aunt Bonty had decided to play matchmaker? But it made little sense since she already had her mountain man, didn’t she?

  She leaned toward Nolan. The fragrance of violets or some other flower scented her skin. His pulse increased. She put her face near his ear, and her breath sent a shiver down his spine.

  “Emery told us you would return,” she whispered.

  Nolan jerked back. “Emery?”

  She shushed. “We have little time.”

  “Did you say Emery?”

  Her nose wrinkled, annoyed. “Please, can you come with me?”

  “The duke will be expecting me,” Nolan said. “But I can meet you outside the manor once I’m finished.”

  “Good. I’ll be waiting.” She peered around, as if someone was watching, and headed toward the nearest street, blending back into the meandering crowd.

  Who was she? Was she one of Emery’s friends? Even if she was, how in Brim’s light had she spoken with Emery? Nolan was, of course, telling the truth when he’d said the duke would expect him. But his pitiful excuse had been more to give him time to think. The duke had enough to keep him busy with the manor bursting full of Shay Rol’dan. That, along with the preparations for the feast tonight, would mean Duke Ragnall would hardly miss Nolan.

  If Nolan wanted to find out more, he’d have to meet with her. He only hoped he wasn’t stepping into a trap.

  Chapter Fourteen

  NOLAN LEFT THE MANOR. The sun was veiled behind the clouds and cast eerie shadows on the stone-lined streets. He’d gotten so used to the light at the tournament, he’d almost forgotten the dreariness of Alton. Hopefully, if the escape went well, he wouldn’t have to put up with Alton’s gloomy skies for long.

  He’d reported to the duke earlier, then spent the next several hours hiding in his room having a heated argument with himself about why he shouldn’t meet this mystery girl. He’d lost, although he knew it probably wasn’t the smartest decision.

  He searched the faces of the thinning crowd, almost hoping she wasn’t there. Just as he was about to change his mind, he saw her. She leaned against a broom shop painted gold. Taking a deep breath, he stepped toward her.

  “Thanks for coming.” She pushed an amber lock behind her ear.

  He nodded, his voice now missing.

  She motioned and led Nolan into the marketplace and down several busy streets. With each step, doubt prodded him. They’d planned an escape, and here he was, risking everything for a pretty face? She looked over her shoulder and smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She appeared worried, somehow.

  They wound through at least three district colors before coming upon Aunt Bonty’s pub. The pub was crowded—much like the last time Nolan had come. Several card games were in progress, and each chair was filled. Aunt Bonty’s had a reputation for good food and service. The smell of roasted meat and freshly baked bread permeated the room, and suddenly, Nolan remembered he hadn’t eaten since arriving in Alton. He’d been too nervous. He glanced at the bar longingly, but thoughts of food fled. Kardos Deverell sat slumped at the bar, surrounded by empty mugs.

  The girl gently touched Nolan’s arm, her fingers icy cold. “This way.”

  Nolan nodded, took a final glance at Kardos, and followed her up a flight of stairs, leaving the lively pub activities below.

  The hallway to the inn portion of the pub was clean and well maintained, though it filtered little of the noise. Gradually, the pub’s bawdy laughter joined with music. Somewhere close by, a stringed instrument played a sad, dissonant song. The music grew louder as they continued down the hall, and then it stopped. A door opened, and a monster of a man with a long matted beard blocked their view. Nolan blinked. It was the mountain man from the pub. He was a lot taller close up than from across the room.

  The man’s eyes flared orange. Nolan tensed, not quite believing what he’d just seen. He has Perception?

  “You all right, lass?” the man asked.

  She nodded and went inside.

  Nolan lingered in the hall, all of his fears coming back in a rush. This mountain man has a Shay?

  Another man with dark red hair stood by the open window. He set a lute against the wall and turned toward him, his eyes flaring violet. Then an Empathy Shay searched Nolan. His heart thundered; his breath quickened.

  The redheaded man’s Shay extinguished. “Don’t be afraid.” He motioned with his hand. “Please, come inside.”

  Before Nolan stood not one, but two non-Rol’dan with the power of the Shay. Or were they? Maybe they were part of the Rol’dan after
all. He eyed the girl, wondering about her power. Had that Daren fellow ratted out Nolan and Alec’s plan? Were they testing him now? Nolan met the girl’s eyes. He wanted to trust them. Emery told him he had friends; they could be them.

  With a deep breath, Nolan entered. He’d come this far already. The mountain man shut the door and motioned to a worn table set with four mismatched chairs. “Have a seat, lad.”

  Nolan took a deep breath, eyeing the large man. He had smile wrinkles around his eyes—a friendly face. Resigned, Nolan sat. The man with red hair, whose expression was more serious than the other man’s, took another seat across from him. His green eyes bored into him before he finally spoke.

  “What’s your name?” the man asked.

  “I thought you already knew my name.”

  He ground his teeth. “Your full name. We need to make sure we have the right person. We’re risking a lot bringing you here.”

  “Nolan,” he answered. “Nolan Trividar.”

  “And your profession?”

  “Personal scribe for Duke Ragnall.”

  The man flared his Empathy, prodding Nolan’s mind, probably searching for truth. Nolan let him, though he hated how it felt. Invasive. Rude. Finally, the Empathy withdrew.

  “You know why we brought you here?” the man asked.

  Nolan hesitated. If they were Rol’dan spies, his words would condemn him. “You brought me here because a mutual friend has found himself in a difficult situation.”

  The man grunted. “I was able to talk with Emery briefly.”

  How? Nolan thought.

  “I made an Empathy connection with him from his prison window. As you might know, those with Empathy can link minds, as long as they can see each other,” he said and shifted on the chair. “He told us about you. And, for some reason, he trusts you. However, I need to confirm you’re this Nolan he speaks of. If you’re him, then you’re hiding something of importance—something that defines you more than most realize.”

  Nolan swallowed. My Shay power.

  “My gift isn’t as powerful as Emery’s,” the man continued, “so I can’t verify it like Emery can. But I can still sense your intentions in meeting us here, and they seem to be honorable, I suppose. So if you want to help us free our friend, I need you to show us your power.”