“What in the bloody void is going on?” she whispered. After counting to thirty, she tried to reopen her mind and confer with her priests…but the instant she did so the telepathic static returned in full force. She retreated back behind her mental walls, and a warning tingle crawled its way down her spine.
Was someone trying to attack her directly through the Aether? If so, it would explain why no one else seemed to have noticed that anything was wrong…but it didn’t help her discern the source of the dissonance. Crell Breakers had the power to sever an Ascendant from their Bound, but that wasn’t what was happening here. She could still feel the presence of her priests and empower them with the Aether; the problem was that she couldn’t communicate with them without exposing herself to a deafening barrage of mental static.
Krystia frowned. She had heard of other channeling techniques that could temporarily impede telepathy in a small area. Tevek had once told her that vaeyn sorcerers employed similar methods whenever they battled a demonic army. Demons were creatures of dark thought and energy, and few were capable of communicating via normal speech. Without telepathy, the hordes were unable to coordinate, and the vaeyn had evidently exploited this weakness numerous times over the centuries.
Perhaps that was what was happening here. A nearby channeler could have figured out a way to mimic the vaeyn technique…but why? Someone must have wanted to momentarily isolate her from her priests, but the Crell weren’t close enough to attack Celenest just yet. The only other explanation she could think of was that someone wanted to attack her directly.
In other words, there was an assassin somewhere inside the palace.
Krystia inhaled sharply and sheathed herself in a mantle of protective energy. Her skin glistened with Aetheric power, she whipped her head around and glared at her locked door. If someone really was crazy enough to attack her, then they would be in for a painful surprise. She was an Unbound Ascendant with full access to the memories and skills of a dozen generations of Solarian kings. She didn’t fear anyone—not assassins, not demons, not even the strongest Crell Breakers.
Still, Tevek had always warned her that there was a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and she saw no reason to take any unnecessary risks. Her royal guardsmen were the most highly-trained soldiers in the Alliance, and it was time for them to earn their keep. Stepping away from the window, Krystia tapped the small red crystal inset at the center of her desk. An instant later the secret passage at the back of her chambers slid open, and she threw on her robes and slipped into the narrow corridor.
King Areekan, like most Solarian monarchs before him, had spent the majority of his life buried away inside a fortified throne room. He had spoken almost exclusively through his “Voice,” High Priest Kaeldar, as a means of protecting himself against potential assassins. The logic was difficult to argue. Ascendants weren’t just normal kings or queens, after all; they were almost literally the heart and soul of their nation.
But Krystia had no interest in ruling her kingdom by proxy. She refused to spend her life wasting away inside an underground fortress, and she had immediately ordered the construction of a luxurious royal suite befitting Solaria’s first Unbound queen. She wasn’t blind to the danger she faced, however, and she had ordered the construction of a secret bunker even deeper below the surface than Areekan’s. Outside of her most trusted protectors, no one was even aware of its existence.
Krystia arrived just a few minutes later, and Guard-Captain Baras and two of his men were already waiting for her. They looked more confused than worried, which probably shouldn’t have surprised her. As Bound, they probably couldn’t hear the actual telepathic static. She wondered dimly if they were even attuned enough to sense their queen’s distress…
“Your Majesty,” Baras greeted her with nod. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m not sure yet,” she admitted. “Have there been any reports of suspicious activity in the palace?”
“No, Your Majesty. It has been an especially quiet night.”
“Mm,” she murmured, glancing around the suite. Everything seemed to be in order, but the hairs on the back of her neck refused to settle. “I suspect that a hostile channeler has infiltrated the palace.”
The guardsmen exchanged confused glances. “You are certain, Your Majesty?” Baras asked.
“Of course I’m certain,” she growled. “Let me show you…”
Krystia cracked open a sliver of her mind and allowed Baras and the other royal guardsmen to feel the mental static through their Ascendant bond. It took an annoying amount of concentration on her part—far more than she was used to expending on communicating with one of her Bound—but the men recoiled in shock almost immediately.
“What…what is that?” Baras stammered.
“I’m not sure, but it could be a precursor to a coordinated attack,” she said, clenching her teeth and sealing off her mind again. The dissonance seemed to be gaining strength, almost like she was closing in on the source…which made absolutely no sense whatsoever. Even if an assassin had somehow infiltrated the palace—even if he had somehow found a way to impede her telepathy—he couldn’t have gotten all the way down here. “I need you to watch over me for a moment while I warn the other priests. We need to be prepared in case the Crell plan to strike.”
Baras nodded. “I shall lock down the palace immediately, Your Majesty. I can signal the rest of the guardsmen to sweep the halls for intruders.”
“Yes, wake everyone. It may be nothing, but we can’t afford to take that chance.”
“By your command.”
He nodded to his men, and they rushed over and barred both entrances to the chamber. For an instant, she was tempted to order them to aid their comrades upstairs, but ultimately she decided against it. As unlikely as it was that anyone could breach into this room and then overpower her, she saw no good reason to take an unnecessary risk. Prior to a few minutes ago, she wouldn’t have believed that anyone could impede her powers in the first place…
Closing her eyes, Krystia re-opened her mind and reached out to her priests all across Solaria. Normally, it would have taken just a few seconds to relay them all a short message, but the static was making it nearly impossible for her to concentrate…
“The rest of the royal guardsmen are now sweeping the palace halls for intruders,” Baras reported after a few moments. “I’ve also assured everyone that you are safe with us. No one will come to check on you for a long time.”
Krystia started to nod but then frowned. Something in his voice had sounded especially odd just then…
“Captain, are you—”
She never finished the sentence. Just as she reopened her eyes and shifted her attention back to the physical world, Baras lifted his left hand and unleashed a rippling blue burst of Aetheric energy. The attack wasn’t designed to harm her directly—instead, the pulse struck her protective barrier and dissolved the enchantment like acid splashed across a metal shield. Krystia’s breath caught in her throat, and she hopped backwards and reached out to the Aether—
Too late. The other two guardsmen whipped up their crossbows and fired. The first bolt struck her in the left shoulder just inches above her heart, while the second pierced cleanly through her belly. Krystia stumbled backwards into the wall, then slid to the floor as the strength left her limbs.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Baras said, drawing his sword. “But the Lord’s Council will not allow a petulant Unbound child to lead Solaria to ruin.”
He lifted his sword, and Krystia screamed.
***
Darius was halfway back to the main palace gate when a young woman in a Legion uniform spotted him from across the corridor. “General!” she blurted out as she dashed towards him. “Sir!”
“What’s the problem?” he asked, frowning. He belatedly recognized her as Corporal Marisen, one of the Third Legion priestesses who had been reassigned to the defense of Celenest.
“Sir,” the woman breathed as she came t
o a halt in front of him. “I think Her Majesty may be in danger.”
“What?” Darius breathed, stopping in his tracks and glancing back and forth. The halls were mostly empty at this time of night, but the few aides lurking in the corners were giving them strange looks. “Why?”
“I cannot contact her, sir,” Marisen told him. She was visibly trembling. “And I can no longer feel the Aether.”
Darius’s breath caught in his throat. “Are you saying she’s…dead?”
“No, sir. I can still feel her presence, but…” The priestess licked at her lips and shook her head. “It’s like she has completely withdrawn.”
“Sound the alarm,” Darius ordered. His right hand instinctively dropped down to his sword, while his left patted his baldric to make sure his concealed dagger was still there. “Inform Guard-Captain Baras that the queen may be under attack, and tell Major Lennox to get a squad of soldiers here immediately.”
“Y-yes, sir,” Marisen breathed.
“I’m counting on you, Corporal,” Darius said, grabbing her shoulder. “All of Solaria is counting on you.”
He held his eyes on her for another intense second, then spun on a heel and dashed back towards Krystia’s chambers. He had known something was wrong from the instant he had spoken with her guards. He could have forced the issue—he should have forced the issue—but he had decided to be patient instead.
And his hesitation might have cost Solaria everything.
Gritting his teeth, he sprinted back to her chamber in record time, and the two royal guardsmen were still standing outside. They appeared completely at ease, which was all the proof Darius needed to know they were up to something. Just like Areekan before her, Krystia had empowered her royal guardsmen with the Aether; they were highly trained in most martial and magical combat. So if something was happening to her, these men should have been reacting the same way as the other priests…
“General,” the left guard said with another nod. “I’m sorry, sir, but our orders have not changed. We still cannot let you inside.”
Darius slowed his stride and studied the two men more carefully. They were young and muscular, and their thick armor was the best Solarian smiths had to offer. Their only real vulnerability—if a one-inch gap could even be called that—was the T-shaped slit in their helmets. Darius, by contrast, was probably fifteen years their senior, and his ceremonial tunic and epaulets were about as protective as wet parchment. Even if these imposters weren’t channelers, he was still overmatched in every conceivable way.
“I know what she told you,” Darius said, making sure to keep his expression neutral. “But I have urgent news that cannot wait. Now stand aside.”
The two men shared a quick glance before the left one shook his head. “I’m sorry, General, but there’s nothing we can do. Please, return to your quarters.”
“These are my quarters,” Darius countered. “Look, just ask Her Majesty’s permission and tell her that it’s important. I guarantee she’ll order you to stand aside.”
The guard’s eye twitched almost imperceptibly, and in that moment Darius knew they would no longer let him let him walk away peacefully. From this point on, every word would just be a meaningless platitude meant to lull him into letting his guard down. The question was what he planned to do about it.
“Her Majesty reiterates that she is not taking visitors,” the right guard said. His fingers, notably, had dropped down to the pommel of his blade. “If you don’t leave right now, General, we will be forced to restrain you. Please, don’t make this difficult.”
“If you so much as lay a hand on me, the Council will have your heads.”
“We do not answer to the Council,” the left guard put in. “We answer only to the queen.”
Darius’s eyes flicked between them. He couldn’t imagine how anyone had managed to replace a pair of royal guardsmen, but his hope was that despite their youth and bulk, they weren’t as skilled as the real thing. If they were…
Well, if they were, then he was going to die. But Krystia was running out of time—she might have already been out of time. And Darius might have been the only one who could save her.
“Fine, have it your way,” he said, sighing in resignation and relaxing his posture. “You’ll both be lucky if you’re not in the stocks by the end of the week.”
The left guard smiled. “I guess that’s a chance we’ll have to take.”
“I suppose so,” Darius said. He maintained his glare for one more second, then grumbled under his breath and turned away…
At which point he unsheathed his sword and slashed across the guard’s body.
The feint never would have worked on a real royal guardsman. They were as well-trained in swordplay as most Knights of the Last Dawn, and they would have instantly recognized his deception and countered appropriately. But just as Darius had anticipated, these imposters were pale shadows of the real thing, and his surprise attack worked as well as he could have possibly hoped.
His sword hacked down across the left guard’s armor, and a flash of sparks lit up the corridor as steel rang against steel. Darius didn’t actually inflict any real damage—he doubted he could physically swing hard enough to even penetrate their armor—but the surprise attack did cause the guard to stumble reflexively. And in that split second of hesitation, Darius drew the concealed dagger from inside his baldric and jabbed it through the slit in the man’s helmet.
A gurgling shriek echoed down the corridor as a spout of blood erupted from the wound, but Darius had already released the dagger and shifted his attention back to the other guard. He barely managed to ready his sword in time to parry his opponent’s two-handed slash, and he spent the next ten second frantically backpedalling from a series of increasingly vicious sweeps. He had evened the odds, but he had also just played his one and only trick card. Now he was locked in a deadly fencing match with a stronger, faster, and more durable opponent…and he had no idea what in the Void he was going to do.
Letting out a calming breath, Darius forced himself to relax and settle into a defensive fighting stance. He had never been a master swordsman by any stretch of the imagination, but unlike most of the other high-ranking officers, he insisted on keeping himself in fighting shape. The training instantly paid off—once he survived the initial frenzy, he was able to fall into a comfortable rhythm of dodges and parries. He even landed several quick ripostes, though they bounced harmlessly off the guard’s thick breastplate.
They had drifted halfway to the intersection at the end of the hall when Darius realized his opponent was no longer trying to kill him. He, too, was now fighting defensively—his attacks became slower and more spread out, and he seemed content to hold his ground rather than continue to press forward. He was clearly just stalling, which meant that whatever his allies had planned for Krystia, they obviously hadn’t succeeded just yet. It also meant that Darius was out of time. He needed to make his move now before it was too late.
Clenching his teeth, Darius launched an attack of his own. The guard easily brushed aside his first thrust, then parried away a follow-up slash at head level. But the maneuver exposed a weakness in the guard’s technique, and Darius pounced on the opportunity by scoring two quick hits against the other man’s legs.
Hits that his armor turned aside as easily as if it were a brick wall. In a moment of panic, Darius hesitated and lost his footing—
At which point the guard bashed him in the face with his free gauntlet and sent Darius tumbling hard to the floor. A red haze fogged his vision, and he expected a sword to cleave his head from his shoulders at any instant. But then a series of loud clicks echoed down the corridor behind him, and Darius whipped his head up just in time to see a pair of crossbow bolts plink into the guard’s armor.
They didn’t stick, sadly, but they did throw the man off-balance long enough for Darius to roll away in the opposite direction. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Major Lennox leaning around the corridor junction, crossbow in hand.
More importantly, Corporal Marisen was with him.
The barrage of Aetheric energy was so bright that Darius had to close his eyes, but by the time he stopped rolling the afterimage had mostly faded. The guard was lying flat on the ground, a plume of black smoke rising from his chest.
“General,” Marisen breathed as she raced over to check on him. Her hands flashed with healing magic.
“There’s no time,” he croaked, pushing her away and hoisting himself back to his feet. “The queen is in trouble.”
“The rest of the guard has been notified, and I’ve sealed the palace,” Lennox said. “I knew something was wrong just a few minutes after you left. I’m just glad I caught up with you in time.”
Darius nodded and raced back towards the door. He didn’t bother with subtlety—lowering his shoulder, he rammed it as hard as he could. The wood splintered around him, and he expected to find Krystia’s still-warm corpse inside waiting for him. Instead, the room was completely empty.
“She must have retreated through the passage already,” Darius reasoned, pointing at the wall. “Help me get it open.”
“The rest of the royal guardsmen should already be there,” Lennox said. “No one else will be able to touch her.”
Darius grimaced. “If someone managed to replace these men, there’s no reason they couldn’t replace the others,” he said gravely. “Come on—we may already be too late.”
***
Krystia was going to die.
The thought paralyzed her muscles and trapped her breath. She had never been seriously hurt before. She had never legitimately feared for her own life. Even when she had assaulted Areekan, she hadn’t been forced to confront her own mortality. Not until this very moment.
She watched in helpless terror as Guard-Captain Baras thrust his sword through her chest. The pain was instant and agonizing, but her frantic screams died on her lips. Her eyes gaped open wide as she choked on the blood rising in her throat. She couldn’t move; she couldn’t think. The Aether slipped through her fingertips, and she knew she was dead. Worse, she knew that Solaria would die with her…
The Godswar Saga (Omnibus) Page 123