by Narro, B. T.
Danvell paused for a sip of wine, leaning down to take it from the table without sitting. “Waywen and Presoren have been preparing for this war much longer than we have, and they’ve set up scouts across our lands. So, the smaller the party, the better the chances we go unnoticed. My wife and son are safe in Chanren for now. They have one more castle to visit before they return. Rek should be back by then. If not, Jek Trayden should be here. You can go with him.”
Lisanda nearly jumped. “He’s alive?”
Danvell grew a wide smile. “Yes. We just received a letter from him. He’s on the way back with his army. I wanted to surprise you.”
Lisanda collapsed to the floor, weeping with joy.
Danvell bent down, picked her up, and embraced her.
“I’ve been worried as well,” Danvell admitted. “I let distrust get the better of me when I sent him north to fight the desmarls. The way he marched out of here so proudly, I should have known right then that I’d made a mistake. But it took me all this time to realize it. The first thing I’m going to do when he gets back is throw a feast.”
Lisanda’s weeping was nearly deafening.
A few servants came in to check on her.
“We’re alright,” Jessend told them with a smile.
Cleve thought of the relief that would overwhelm him if he got back to Kyrro to find out Reela was unharmed. It would be like a metal pipe in his throat finally had been removed.
Stay safe, Reela.
Chapter 13
Nearly a week passed without much excitement.
Cleve spent most of each day with Nulya. When Silvie and Jessend weren’t flirting with each other, they helped him realize his subtle riding mistakes. The hardest problem for him to correct was his posture. He tended to either lean forward or slouch, both of which were wrong according to the giddy young women. He didn’t notice a difference in the horse’s behavior or the soreness in his back either way, but he trusted them to be right.
At one point, they decided he was ready to take the horse out of the palace for a ride.
Silvie and Jessend rode with him, zipping through the city. A retinue of guards came along, too.
Jessend soon took the lead. When the Princess wasn’t navigating through crowded streets, smiling and waving at nearly every commoner who looked her way, she found a secluded area for some respite from all the screaming and pointing.
Eventually, Cleve asked if they could leave the city. It took some time, but Jessend convinced the guards they wouldn’t stray too far from the walls of The Nest.
Once they were on the open land of Goldram, galloping across long fields of grass, Cleve made a startling realization. If Kyrro had horses, the war would be won easily.
He wondered what had been happening since he’d left. As what usually happened when his focus traveled over the Starving Ocean, he found himself muttering hopeful wishes about Reela, Terren, Effie, Alarex, and even Steffen.
He wondered what they would think when he told them of his time in Goldram with the Takary Princesses. Jessend would be easy to describe, but then he pondered what he would say of Lisanda. He still didn’t know her that well, except that she was quite different from Jessend.
Lisanda had changed her hair nearly every single day since her father had announced that Jek was on his way back. The whole time that Cleve was in the palace before then, she’d worn her hair like Jessend—long and wavy. It was almost identical to Reela’s hair, except for the sheer darkness of it. Reela’s was so light brown it was nearly blonde.
But since then, Cleve had seen Lisanda with curls, buns, a double tail, and even perfectly straight hair, which was her most recent style. She had it shortened as well, so that it only fell to her shoulders.
Each day, Jessend would spend up to an hour in Lisanda’s room while she tried on different dresses, trying to find the perfect one with her new hairstyle.
Jessend was always excited at first to see her sister’s new hairstyle, eagerly helping her choose an outfit as well. But that excitement would fade quicker than the surge of brightness that came with lightning. Soon, she would be making excuses to leave, complaining later to Cleve how surprising it was that Lisanda could spend so much time in front of a mirror.
Jessend also told Cleve that Lisanda claimed her reasoning behind this was to look good for Jek. But everyone knew he wouldn’t care how she wore her hair or what dress she had on. The latest gossip was that Lisanda was just using it as an excuse to get excited about trying out new looks.
The day after their trip outside The Nest, Cleve received permission to ride out of the city on his own.
He spent the day on Nulya’s back with a sword, a bow borrowed from Jessend, and a quiver packed with arrows. He shot at the rotten wood of fallen trees while trotting; he swiped his sword at stumps and bushes while galloping; and soon both he and Nulya were sweating.
While resting by a small lake that shimmered in the evening sun, he wondered what would happen if he just rode north and kept going as far as he could.
He knew enough of the land to realize he would reach Waywen in a day or two. He figured no one would stop him.
There was no way they’d know he had an allegiance to the Takary family, unless Kasko had made it there somehow. Maybe he had, and now he was devising a plan for revenge.
They assumed by now he’d escaped, probably fled Goldram. Cleve didn’t like to think about it, constantly going back to that night, realizing it was his fault Kasko had gotten away with his life.
Cleve decided to let it out of his mind.
If he went so far north that he made it past Waywen, Cleve could keep going all the way to the desmarls. The thought was tantalizing, though he didn’t know why. There was something about the danger that made it intriguing, perhaps because only the brave would go out of their way to travel there. Or maybe just the stupid.
A now-renowned artist once had climbed up a cliff that overlooked much of the north and painted what he saw. The artwork became famous enough that Cleve had seen several copies around the palace.
The view the artist depicted was like standing atop the mountain in the middle of an endless sea, but instead of water in every direction, there was a thick cloud of green Sartious Energy that covered the vast flatlands as far as the eye could see.
It was eerie to think that massive man-eating creatures were hidden in the green fog, and with tentacles so strong they could break bones.
A chill tickled the top of his spine. And Jek was there. He killed ten of those creatures, now returning with their eyes. Cleve wondered how he’d done it and how many of his men had died.
Someone had called Jek “The Sartious Mage” in front of Cleve. He’d heard that name more than once but couldn’t figure out what it meant until he’d asked Jessend.
“I already told you,” she claimed. “Because he has the most control over Sartious Energy for anyone his age, possibly anyone in Greenedge. You really should ask Lisanda the story about how they met. She’s wondering why you haven’t inquired yet.”
Cleve did later. Lisanda smiled gleefully and began. She didn’t shy away from any details, and he could tell she’d told the story at least a few times before. Her face didn’t show any sense of urgency to finish. The pride in her eyes was bright throughout the tale.
It was hard for Cleve to sit and listen for so long, as doing so was never his strong suit. So they took a total of four breaks throughout the story, some as long as an hour so Cleve could spend much-needed time with a weapon or with Nulya.
When she finally finished, Cleve didn’t know what to say besides, “When’s the wedding?”
She laughed and blushed at the same time. “He hasn’t asked me yet, but I think he will when he comes back.” Her mouth straightened, and Cleve realized then that her lips were different from Jessend’s. The curve in the middle of her top lip was more accentuated, making her expressions even easier to read. “But he has to get permission from my father first, who I believe has begun to tr
ust Jek as he trusts you. Do you think?”
“It seemed that way from the last conversation we had about Jek.”
Lisanda stood and straightened her arms toward Cleve. He stood as well, and they hugged.
“It’s too bad you and Jessend don’t feel the same way about each other that Jek and I do. I think you would make her a good husband.”
Cleve stepped back and shook his head. “I really wouldn’t, but thank you for that.”
Later, in the shower, that phrase repeated itself in his head, and he found himself laughing.
Good husband. He laughed some more.
Chapter 14
Jek was supposed to have arrived two days ago, but there’d been no word.
“He’s coming back in through Waywen,” Danvell said solemnly, leaning over the table toward Lisanda. “The stubborn idiot didn’t want to take the extra time going around to Zav where his party would be much safer.”
Lisanda let out an annoyed breath. “He’s never been very patient.”
Cleve was surprised she didn’t seem more worried about the delay, so much so that he even asked her why she wasn’t.
“Jek’s good at getting where he needs to go,” she answered. “I’m sure he can handle himself.”
So can Reela, Cleve realized. He felt some of his incessant tightness loosen in his throat.
Danvell had gathered them for dinner, claiming there were several things they needed to know. Micah Vail had been brought in to eat with them as well, the man barely touching his food.
“Are you sending people out for Jek?” Jessend asked.
“Men and women were sent yesterday,” Micah answered. “But we don’t know his army’s exact location, and our people can’t ride with too much haste. There are many scouts and traps the farther north we go. It could take some time to figure out what happened.”
Lisanda’s mouth popped open. “It’s that dangerous in Waywen?”
“I’m afraid so,” Micah answered.
A look of guilt crossed Lisanda’s face. Worry came soon after. “I didn’t realize.” She seemed to be speaking mostly to herself.
Cleve felt the same guilt for believing Reela would be fine on her own. He should be there with her.
“Unfortunately, that’s not the worst news,” the King said, showing tightened eyes full of pain.
His daughters must’ve sensed it like Cleve had, for they leaned forward, widening their already large eyes.
Jessend spoke first. “What happened?”
“We haven’t heard from your brother.” Cleve could feel the pride in Danvell’s voice when he uttered the words “your brother.” But the King’s face showed nothing but concern, with his twisted mouth and furrowed brow.
“Raymess was supposed to send a letter when he reached the last castle he was to visit in Chanren—Castle Stamuth,” Danvell continued. “Not only haven’t we received a letter from him, King Stamuth wrote to us upset because Raymess never arrived.”
“What about the rest of those with him?” Jessend asked. “What about Mother?”
“No one arrived at Castle Stamuth,” Micah answered for Danvell, who seemed too distraught to say the words.
Lisanda gasped.
“So what does that mean?” Jessend asked, jumping off her seat.
“We don’t know yet,” Micah Vail answered. “We’re waiting to hear back from scouts we have around that area and in Zav. But based on the movements we’ve seen, we think it’s likely they’ve been taken by men in Waywen.”
“There were hundreds with them!” Jessend was shouting now. “How could they be taken so easily?”
“They might not have been taken at all,” Lisanda muttered to the table.
Jessend turned to her sister. “What do you mean?”
Lisanda looked up at Danvell. “Isn’t that right, Father? You don’t know for sure they were taken?”
Danvell let out a slow breath as his gaze fell. “We don’t.”
“I don’t understand!” Jessend was frantically looking back and forth at them, clearly sensing something was even worse than she’d realized. “What are you saying?”
“They could’ve been killed already, slain in battle,” Lisanda answered meekly. Her eyes were fixed on the table. She seemed emotionless.
Micah stood, speaking as he made his way toward the sisters. “I’m sure they’re still alive. It’s best to stay calm. Our worst thoughts are produced when we panic.”
He put a hand on each princess’ shoulder. Cleve assumed he was using psyche to comfort them.
Jessend sank back into her chair, and soon each sister was nodding.
“What about the psychic Elf?” Jessend met eyes with Cleve. “Can he find people who’re missing?”
Cleve shook his head. “Psyche doesn’t work like that.” He made a conscious effort not to gaze at Micah. “Rek can’t find anyone unless they’re already close and he’s familiar with them.”
“How close?” Lisanda asked.
“Less than fifty yards,” Cleve answered.
Jessend pounded her fist on the table. “Then what can we do?”
Danvell tilted his head, showing a sad smile. “Jessend, this is not up to you to solve. Don’t you trust I’m doing everything I can?”
Defeated, Jessend’s shoulders slumped. “Yes. I’m sorry, Father.”
Cleve stood. “What about me? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“As soon as we have a better idea where they might be, then yes,” Danvell answered. “That’s why you’re in here. If it’s a rescue mission we need, then the less people we send, the better. And as you and Jessend have described, your psychic friend is the most powerful person we have. We’ve sent a message to the Elves in Meritar, but we can’t even be certain he’ll receive it. If he’s not back in time, I’ll have to figure out something else.”
Jessend stood, shouldering her way in front of Cleve. “Isn’t that too dangerous for Cleve?”
Danvell spread his palms as if confused by her question. “Cleve wants to help, he’s just as skilled as the best warriors among our army, and I trust him. Is there something I’m missing?”
His question sounded rhetorical. But Jessend answered it as if it wasn’t.
“He doesn’t know the land!”
“Jessend, no one knows the land these days,” Danvell said. “It’s filled with enemy armies in friendly territories, along with allied men hiding among our enemies. This is what happens when four bordered territories go to war with each other. It’s happened before, but at least this time we have Zav on our side.”
“You must at least send someone who knows the terrain of Greenedge!” Jessend shouted.
“Of course, dear. Please.” His face showed annoyance, matching his voice. “I know you care about Cleve, but it’s not your place to question my decisions.”
She spun around, looking up to meet Cleve’s eyes. “Are you certain you’re alright with this?”
He put his hand on her shoulder, looking over her head to meet Danvell’s gaze. “After this, you’ll help me and Rek get back to Kyrro?”
“I will. I promise it.”
Cleve swallowed hard, still reluctant to agree. Why am I so nervous about this?
Something didn’t feel right. He trusted Danvell, so what was it? If Rek was with him, they should be able to handle anything as long as they were cautious.
That was it—Rek might not be back in time before they caught a lead on Raymess’ location.
“Without Rek, I don’t feel confident about retrieving a man and a woman from an enemy territory I’ve never been in before,” Cleve admitted.
“But we can’t wait for Rek,” Micah Vail answered. “As soon as we know where they are, we have to go.”
Searching for ideas, Cleve’s eyes found Micah. “Will you come with me if Rek isn’t here in time?”
Danvell laughed. “Micah Vail? He has no weapons training. Why him?”
Micah glared at Cleve. “My place is inside the palac
e.”
“Cleve.” Jessend pulled on his arm. “Are you feeling alright? It’s strange of you to suggest Micah Vail go with you. And you seem pale as well.” She touched his cheek. The coolness of her palm made him realize how flushed he felt. He sat down.
“Here.” Micah Vail brought over a glass of water, touching his shoulder in the process. Cleve felt steadiness return to his mind that he was sure was from psyche. He thanked Micah.
“I know it needs to be done,” Cleve said. “And I do want to be the one to do it. I guess I’m just nervous.” It was so unlike him to feel this way, he couldn’t help but wonder why it was happening.
Is this because my barrier has been down? Every feeling he’d had in the last few weeks had been like a needle pricking his skin. He’d laughed, cried, and even smiled more in this palace than he’d done in the past year.
He closed his eyes to meditate, pulling in Bastial Energy. There was chatter around him, but it quickly faded away, leaving just the sound of a river flowing past him, calming him as it brushed by rocks. Trees appeared, and the sun brightened everything, melting the black to leave a blue sky.
He opened his eyes and let the warm Bastial Energy seep out of him.
Taking a breath, he stood. “When you know where they are, tell me. I’ll be ready.”
He found everyone to be smiling at him. Danvell waved at a servant, who brought forward a sword in its sheath. Just by the handle, Cleve could tell it was no mediocre weapon.
“I have a gift for you,” the King told him. The servant gave the sword to Danvell and left. “I’m sure Jessend has told you all about Bastial steel.”
Cleve felt chills down his arms as he reached out to take Danvell’s offering.
“This weapon, along with Nulya, are yours, even when you leave.”
Cleve slowly drew the sword from its sheath. Its sunset color caught the light, and for a moment Cleve thought it was glowing.