by Kara Jaynes
Matias picked her up with the magic and flung her against the wall. She crumpled beside Aaric.
I stood quickly, calling the magic. I threw it at Matias who leapt of out the way. Magic pulsed from him as he faced me again, face grim.
“I was going to marry you, Adaryn.” His voice was cold. “And this is how you repay me.”
“Marry you?” I spat. “Where on earth did you get an idea like that? Besides,” I glared at him, “you didn’t tell me you had a harem, you wretch.”
Matias tossed his head angrily, midnight hair falling around his face. “Why mention it? They are of no consequence, merely there to serve my needs. But you, you were different. You could wield magic, like me.”
We were circling each other now. He the attacker, me the prey. I didn’t know what to do. We’d hoped to take him by surprise, but it was now the other way around.
“Magic users are so rare down here,” he said, still watching me. “Yes, I have other women. But they lack the spirit, compassion, and fire that I’ve seen in you. They lack the magic. You would be able to give me an heir, someone worthy to take my place.”
“You would have me produce an heir for you?” I scoffed. “For a man who lies and cheats, who bullies and murders? Never.”
Matias’ face hardened as he wove the enchantment, wrapping it around me until I was immobile. I struggled against the bonds, trying to cut them with my own magic, but pitting my power against his was like a kitten fighting a lion.
Matias smiled coldly, coming closer to me. “I hate to do this.” He was so close I could feel his breath on my face. “But sand cats can’t be tamed.”
My heartbeat raced in fear as he formed a thin blue blade. I hammered against the bonds. I had tried to defeat him, my magic against his, and failed. It was over.
9
Bran
Standing in the shadows of the stables, Bran watched a couple of guards march by. He smiled to himself. Even if they looked right at him, they wouldn’t be able to see him. Weaving a spell of shadow and light, Bran was practically invisible.
He bit his lip, thinking. With the help of some Guild members, he had spread enough stories about Matias that the people in Sen Altare were in a lather of angry emotions, but with the guards holding the castle, they couldn’t get in. The soldiers quit patrolling the streets after the last group of them had been torn apart by the mobs that now overran the city.
Grace and the other two would be in the castle by now, possibly already with the king, and from the dull roar that rose and fell beyond the walls, it sounded like Sirius’ mob had gathered. It was time.
Bran needed to open the gates. He silently stalked to the stables entrance and went inside. A few stable hands were there, pitching hay, and wouldn’t have noticed the nomad even if he hadn’t wrapped the magic around himself.
Summoning more enchantment, Bran hurtled a large ball of blue flames over the heads of the two stable hands to land in a pile of hay. The flames greedily consumed the dry hay in a matter of moments, and flared up to lick the walls and loft.
The two men cried out in shock. One ran to free the horses while the other ran outside, calling for help. Not a moment to spare.
Bran sprinted over to the nearest stall, taking care to keep the shadows around him. The bay gelding he approached couldn’t see him, but could sense him and whinnied in fear, shying away.
Leaping onto the horse’s back, Bran forced the bay out of its stall with a nudge of his knees and headed for the stable’s exit. Smoke began to fill the interior, and the remaining horses could be heard screaming and stamping at the smell as the stable hand flung stall doors open.
Bran urged the bay to a gallop, hooves thundering toward the large castle gates, their glossy, iridescent surface hard and impenetrable, shut tight all morning, opening once only for Aaric and the women.
Bran reached in himself, through himself, to the strands of enchantment he felt in the sky. There was magic everywhere, if one just knew how to look.
Dropping the shadows from him, Bran ignored the guards who could see him now. They shouted to each other, some running to meet him at the gate, as if a single man could open those massive gates alone. Bran smiled. He could.
Pulling strands of magic from the earth and sky, Bran redirected the elemental energy to the gates. A combination of fire and wind hammered at the gates, causing them to shiver and bend. Earth rose with a groan, forcing the gates to finally crumble and collapse.
Bran swayed, feeling nauseous and exhausted from the amount of magic he’d used, but he pushed it away. He didn’t have time to feel sick.
A triumphant roar rose to greet him as he rode past the shattered gates and into the city. The people poured through the gates and onto the castle grounds. Bran slid from his horse, almost falling to the ground when hands from the mob reached out to steady him. He blinked blearily and found himself looking at Sirius and Luna.
“Good work, rover,” Sirius laughed. “I didn’t know you had such power in you.” He surveyed the destroyed gates with immense satisfaction. “Now to defeat the king!”
Sirius disappeared into the surging crowd. Bran made as if to follow him, but Luna grabbed him by the sleeve, tugging him back. “You need sleep, young man,” she insisted. “You look dead on your feet.”
“I can’t,” he protested. “I need to find Grace.” He stopped short, scrubbing a hand through his hair. Had he just called Adaryn Grace?
Luna clucked her tongue with irritation, muttering something about men and their stubbornness, and pressed a bottle of something into Bran’s hand.
“What is it?” Bran asked, eyeing it warily.
“An elixir I made. It will restore your energy.”
Bran pulled out the stopper and drank. She was right. For a wonder, Bran’s exhaustion melted away, and a feeling of vigor replaced it.
“Thank you.” He pushed the empty bottle back to Luna and turned to the castle, grunting with irritation. Adaryn. He needed to find Adaryn. Grace was a beauty and had a fine wit, but . . . “Nonsense,” he snorted. “Not a chance.”
10
Aaric
Pushing himself up to his hands and knees, Aaric shook his head groggily. He blinked, his vision coming into focus. Where was he?
Adaryn cried out in terror and Aaric’s head snapped up in alarm. Matias was towering over her, a conjured blade in his hand. Adaryn struggled against the glowing bonds that held her, but it did no good.
Aaric’s face contorted in a snarl, and he started to stand when he felt a grip on his shirt hem.
“Here.” Miss Grace was on the floor, lying on her side, a bruise swelling on the side of her face, but her eyes were bright as she shoved the black parasol in his hand. “It’s a sword too, you know,” she whispered. “Don’t let him hurt her.”
Aaric frowned, taking the parasol. With a small tug, the handle came off from the rest of it, exposing a long, thin blade.
“Go,” Miss Grace whispered urgently. Aaric stood and quietly walked toward Matias. The king lifted his sword, and Aaric rushed at him, desperate to stop any harm from befalling Adaryn.
Adaryn’s eyes met his, widening in surprise. It proved to be what saved Matias, who whirled around to face whatever his captor saw.
Aaric swept the blade horizontally, going for Matias’ throat. The king recoiled, but not before Aaric’s sword cut through the thin, silver chain that encircled the king’s neck. A shard of glittering blue flew through the air, bouncing off the tile floor.
Matias snarled and lunged in the direction of the shard, but was forced to turn and parry Aaric’s onslaught. The bonds melted from Adaryn’s body.
Aaric jabbed, swiped, and blocked, moving quickly, as he tried to remember everything Bran had taught him. Matias’ expression was one of concentration as he defended himself, sweat beading on his forehead.
“You fight like a magic user,” he said to Aaric. The king’s tone was almost conversational, but there was a tightness around his eyes that sa
id he wouldn’t hesitate to kill the first moment he got. “Strange. Most people hate my kind, do they not?”
Adaryn summoned a pale blue staff, and together she and Aaric fought Matias into a corner. Peculiar, Aaric thought, as he defended himself from a few of Matias’ strikes. Something had changed about the king. He was still using magic, that much was apparent by the weapon he wielded, but he was no longer using his magic to throw people about like he had previously. Why was that?
He thought of the blue shard that had fallen, and his eyes widened with realization. The sky jewel.
Matias swiped at his head, and Aaric ducked just in time, wind whistling overhead.
The king was panting as heavily as Aaric, his face tense with concentration and anger. Even with Adaryn’s help, they were at a stalemate. It was a matter of who tired first—and Aaric’s arms felt like they were getting heavier by the second.
The door banged open, and Aaric’s heart sank. They wouldn’t be able to fight off any guards that came to Matias’ rescue.
Bran stepped into his view, and for the first time, Aaric was overjoyed to see the tall nomad.
Adaryn quickly moved out of the way to make room for Bran, who already had a sword in hand, blue fire flickering on the edges.
He leapt in where Adaryn had stood and within a few moments disarmed Matias and held the point of the blade at his throat. Matias was breathing hard, glaring daggers at the people around him, hate twisting his features.
“So it’s war, is it?” Matias glared at Aaric. “Adaryn said you came from the North. The city of Ruis wants to take control of the South, I see.”
“This has nothing to do with Ruis, Matias.” Sirius entered the room, along with several members of the Guild. Bran didn’t move, his sword still at Matias’ throat, but Aaric turned to look at the older man. Sirius looked furious, his mustache practically bristling.
“Your rule is over, Matias,” Sirius continued, two particularly large Guild members flanking him. “You’re done terrorizing the people for your own selfish needs. The good people of Sen Altare have overrun your palace, and ousted your guards.” Matias’ face was unreadable. He merely stood there, his chin up and arms crossed.
Aaric turned to search for the sky jewel, but couldn’t see it. His heart began to thud. Where did it go? He heard female voices conversing and glanced up to see Adaryn and Miss Grace just a few feet away.
“Hand it over, Grace, I know you have it.”
The blonde woman sniffed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Adaryn hissed angrily. “Yes, you do, you liar. I saw you take it!”
The sky jewel. Thank heaven. Aaric strode over to face the blonde woman, leaving Sirius and Matias behind. “Miss Grace,” he whispered hurriedly. “Please. I need the sky jewel badly.”
Miss Grace pouted prettily, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulders.
“Please?” Aaric said earnestly. He knew Adaryn was ready to wrestle the woman to the ground and take it by force, but hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
Miss Grace looked at him a moment before sighing regretfully. “I suppose you do need it more than I do. It really is quite pretty, though.”
She reached down the front of her dress and pulled out the blue shard. Aaric felt his ears burn as she passed it to him. Adaryn growled, folding her arms and glaring at Grace.
Aaric looked down at the jewel. It appeared to be made of glass. It was a nearly opaque blue and glowed with a pulsating light in its center.
“That’s it.” Adaryn peered at the stone. “I can feel it. Shades alive, that’s why Matias was so unbelievably powerful.”
“Mr. Wright,” Sirius called. Aaric hastily stuffed the stone in his pocket and turned to face the Guild leader. He’d been so distracted that only now he realized Matias and Bran were nowhere to be seen.
“Your friend helped escort the prisoner to the dungeons,” Sirius replied when Aaric asked about Bran’s whereabouts. The Guild leader looked around the chamber, obviously liking what he saw. “I suppose I shall stay here for a while, until we can get new leadership figured out.”
Aaric hid his smile. He had no doubt who Sirius meant by that.
Several minutes later, Aaric, Adaryn, and Miss Grace left, returning to the Guild. Adaryn looked exhausted. Miss Grace did too, but that didn’t stop her from chattering nonstop.
“Bran played his part perfectly. Setting fire to the stables wasn’t something I would have thought of, but it caused quite an uproar with the guards, I daresay. None of them came to help Matias.”
Aaric stayed quiet. He suspected Matias had been confident in the strength the sky jewel gave him, and that was almost certainly the reason for the lack of guards in his quarters.
Once inside the Guild, Miss Grace turned to them. “Anyway, my plan didn’t turn out as bad as all that.” She yawned dramatically, then winced, putting a hand to her bruised face. “What I need is a bath.” She turned to leave.
“Grace.” Adaryn spoke, and Miss Grace froze, looking wary. Adaryn looked down at her feet. “I . . . I want to thank you . . . for trying to help me, when Matias . . .” She trailed off, looking uncomfortable.
Miss Grace looked uncomfortable as well, and waved a hand, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “I assure you I did it for myself. I wasn’t going to let you take all of the king’s attention.”
Rolling her eyes, Adaryn shrugged. “Whatever the reason, thank you.”
Miss Grace smoothed her skirts, refusing to make eye contact with the nomad. She turned to leave when Adaryn spoke again. “I recall you saying once that you didn’t hit people. That it was ‘uncivilized’.” Adaryn tried to keep her face expressionless, but her lips twitched.
Grace smiled. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. King Matias was being a complete dunderhead.” She tilted her head a little, eyeing Adaryn. “You’re not as horrible an individual as I once thought, I suppose. Your hair is still dreadful, though.”
Adaryn’s eyes flashed, and she opened her mouth, no doubt ready to give Miss Grace a piece of her mind, but the young woman had already turned her back on them, walking down a side hall.
Aaric chuckled. “I’ll have to be sure to be on her good side anytime she wields a parasol.” Adaryn grinned, despite her irritation with the other woman, then staggered. Dark circles shadowed her eyes. Using her magic had drained her.
Aaric scooped her up, despite her protests, and carried her to her room, helping her into bed. He sat on the edge of her mattress, pulling the sky jewel out of his pocket. It hadn’t stopped its faint glowing.
“I think it does that all the time,” Adaryn said after staring at it for a while. “Incredible. I hadn’t really stopped to consider if the story about the sky jewels was real or not, but I’m beginning to think they’re true. There may be a sky dragon out there after all.”
“I know one thing.” Aaric gave her a triumphant smile. “We won.”
11
Aaric
A soft knock on the door sounded. Aaric looked up from his writing, seated at the small table in his room. Taking off his reading spectacles, he stood, walking over to the door. On opening it, he saw Luna standing in the hallway, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
“Do you have it?” she asked, wringing her hands. “I’m not going to take it, but I need to see it, Aaric. After all those years of research, I have to see it.”
Aaric smiled and opened the door wider. He motioned to the small table and chairs. “Please, take a seat.”
She did so, leaning forward eagerly when Aaric put the sky jewel on the table. She put her hand out as if to touch it. “May I?”
Aaric nodded.
Luna picked it up, reverence on her face. The sky jewel was small, only a couple of inches long, and looked like an oval shard of crystal. Holding it, however, Aaric could feel something. What, he wasn’t sure, but he suspected it was the magic, and looking at Luna, he knew she could sense it too.
“All those years,”
she spoke as if to herself. “I was beginning to wonder if I would ever get to see one.” She looked up at Aaric, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Thank you, Aaric.” He nodded, feeling awkward at her emotion, but then she continued. “I want you to be careful around Sirius Archer.”
“Why?” Aaric asked. He didn’t entirely trust the man, but wanted to hear Luna’s reason.
“He’s a good man, I think, but misguided in some ways. I’ve been watching him recently, and with the new found power he has now, I think it’s getting to his head. Just be careful.”
“I will. Thank you for telling me.” Aaric stood, and Luna passed the jewel back to him with a regretful sigh. She reached the door and then turned to him again. “You know, I stumbled across a manuscript years ago that spoke of the sky dragon, Varduu. It said he lived beyond the mountains to the East. Wouldn’t that be something?”
“It would,” Aaric agreed, “but he’s a nomad legend. I highly doubt dragons are real. Not in our age of science and industrialization, anyway.”
Luna nodded. “You’re probably right. And with the Scholar’s Guild at the helm, Sen Altare won’t be behind Ruis in technological advances for long, I hope. Farewell, Aaric.” She smiled again, lines creasing around her eyes, and left, walking down the hall, reading some crumpled notes she’d pulled from her skirt pocket.
12
Adaryn
You plan to do what?” I stared at Sirius in shock. Over two weeks had passed since Matias had been overthrown. I stood in the throne room, hands on my hips, glaring at the old man.
Sirius had the gall to sit on the throne, but had brought in several other chairs for Guild members. He hadn’t offered me one.
At the moment, the throne didn’t seem to be very comfortable. Sirius squirmed uneasily, not making eye contact with me.