The Book of Kaels Bundle (Books 2 - 4): The Wood Kael, The Metal Kael, The Fire Kael

by Wendy Wang

  “Which guardsman?”

  “I don't know,” Eryn lied smoothly. “I've never seen him before but he was dressed as a guardsman. He gave her the notes, and told her to give them to the chief. She's telling the truth she doesn't know what they are.”

  “Sorrel,” Peter said sounding weary. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “You could send her to one of the labor camps,” Eryn pitched in, finally looking at Sorrel.

  “I don't know.” His lips twisted into a grimace. “Somehow it doesn't seem enough.”

  “She just wanted to go home and he took advantage of her. Perhaps mercy is in order.” She rested her hand on top of his arm, and the line between Peter's brows grew deep. Finally, after a moment or so he put his hand on top of hers and gave it a squeeze.

  “You’re right, she doesn’t deserve to die. She has given me vital information about Y’Ana. I can be merciful,” Peter said

  “Yes you can.” Eryn’s lips curved up, her eyes growing brighter. “This will just remind people how lucky we are to have you as our emperor.”

  “You don’t think they’ll see me as weak?” he asked softly.

  “No, not at all. It takes real strength to grant mercy. They’ll see that.” Eryn seemed to know exactly what to say. Sorrel’s gut twisted at the thought of having to be grateful to this woman who had just betrayed her. At least she’d be free, whether Peter decided to kill her or cast her into one of the labor camps. As long as Eryn stayed she would never be free.

  Peter dropped his hand and straightened his spine. “Make it happen.”

  Eryn bowed her head. “As you wish.”

  ******

  Cai's voice buzzed in her ears during the meeting. He stood while the others in the room sat, his five generals and Gordon lined the long table. She didn't know why he didn't just go ahead and make Gordon a general. He was already so much a part of their plans and strategies.

  Neala sat at the end of the table opposite him. She had wanted to be there had even fought to be there but Cai's plans bored her. She doodled mindlessly on the pad of paper in front of her while she tried to look like she was paying attention. Snippets of their conversation filtered through her head, sometimes making their way to her drawing.

  “And what do you think, Your Majesty?” Cai said.

  Neala looked up startled, her eyes scanned the faces of the generals. The three women and two men all stared at her with quiet expectation. Gordon's eyes glittered with amusement and a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. His gaze cut to the paper in front of her and she instinctively covered the doodle with her open hand.

  “Chief you already know what I think,” she said, raising her head high trying to appear engaged.

  “Indeed,” Cai said. “But perhaps you could enlighten the generals.” His eyes narrowed and his lips flattened into a straight line. He knew she wasn't paying attention and now he was making her pay for it.

  Neala shifted in her chair sitting up even straighter. She folded her hands together and stared straight at her husband. “I think this is a waste of time.”

  Gordon pressed his lips together, partially stopping the grin trying to break out on his face. His gaze flashed from her to the table.

  Cai’s face reddened and he folded his arms across his broad chest, the leather of his armguards creaking. Every single one of the generals blanched at her answer, their eyes widening, glancing from her to the chief and back again.

  “Do you care to explain that?” Cai’s voice sounded too controlled, too steady. Neala sucked in a breath and she scowled, mainly at herself. So her diplomacy still needed work.

  “What I mean, is we should still pursue a stronger alliance with Casilladin and Iberebeth. That’s important, because you’re right, we need them to do more,” she said. The lines of his brow smoothed a little.

  “Go on,” he said, sounding placated.

  “All right.” She stood and approached him. If she was going to challenge him, she was going to do it standing in front of him. She stopped and stared into his broad, handsome face. “So far, all we’ve really done is thwart his attacks on our borders. But it’s not enough. Not when he can use the sky and punch through our protective fold. I’m really surprised he hasn’t used it to overrun us with his soldiers.”

  The heaviness of his brow lightened and the sharp planes of his face softened. “Do you have a plan then?”

  “We need to strike back. Hard,” she said.

  “And how do you suggest we do that?” His eyes narrowed and his gaze weighed heavy on hers.

  “There are two things we need to do. First, we need to find his resources and deprive him of them. Weapons, food—”

  “We’re already leading daily attacks on his weapons factories in Nydia.”

  “It’s not enough. We need to hit their other resources including food.”

  “So you’re telling me you want Kaels to starve, even though they’ve been conquered and have no routes out from under Peter’s rule?”

  Neala straightened her spine, holding her position. She didn’t like it anymore than he did, but unless they could get the Kaels trapped beneath Peter’s thumb to fight back, they had almost no hope of beating him. She blew out a breath. “Yes. If that’s what it takes. We destroy the farms, the distribution routes. Anyone found delivering raw goods or foods should be arrested and tried for treason.”

  Their eyes locked and for a moment the room and all the air in the room evaporated. His intense stare slid through her, seeing to her soul, making her breath catch in her throat.

  “You would have your army destroy your own people’s farms? So much for protecting all Kaels.”

  “That’s enough Chief,” she said softly, but the inflection in her voice made the skin beneath his eye flinch. “My intention is to destroy him. Anyone who is for him, is against us.”

  “All due respect, Your Majesty, but this isn’t the way to do it. Even your mother wouldn’t approve of this.”

  Her cheeks heated and she clenched her jaw. She would not back down. “My mother isn’t here. I am and she never had to make these choices, but I do.”

  Gordon cleared his throat, breaking the intense stare-off between them. Cai flashed his eyes towards Gordon. His brow was drawn low and the carved lines of his face looked impossibly harder than usual.

  The chair scraped across the stone floor and Gordon rose to his feet. At six three, he towered over most people, including Cai, and he cut an intimidating figure, even with his jovial face. There was no hint of his joking, easy going nature in his stance. He stared forward, all business. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

  “What is it Captain?” Cai said, practically growling.

  “The queen is right,” Gordon said.

  Cai stalked past her towards Gordon.

  “You think the queen is right?” Cai spat the words queen and right, as if she were some distant leader—not his wife. Not even his queen. The disgust in his tone made goose bumps rise on her arms.

  “I do,” Gordon said plainly. His lack of fear amazed her. Even she cowered a little at the lethal look on her husband’s face. Cai straightened up and cocked his head.

  “Then tell me Captain, exactly what would you and the queen have us do? Wage war on those trapped inside the borders of Ethavia and Nydia? Innocent Kaels who have no choice but to be there.” Cai moved closer, invading Gordon’s space. He was so close, his nose almost touched Gordon’s cheek.

  “If that’s what it takes.” Gordon stood his ground. “Then yes.”

  Neala’s heart fluttered and her arms twitched with adrenaline just watching the altercation. “Cai, stop it. Now.”

  Cai’s back swelled and shrunk with breaths. He took a step backwards and turned towards her.

  “Maybe we should just table this for now.” She folded her arms across her chest. “All right?”

  Cai nodded, but his hands were clenched in tight fists at his sides. “Of course, Your Majesty. As you wish. You’re all dismisse
d.”

  The generals stood, their gazes flitting between the queen and the chief. They each bowed their heads to her and quickly left the room, all except Gordon.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Cai started but didn’t finish before he turned and exited.

  “Dammit,” Neala muttered under her breath and headed towards the door.

  “Majesty, don’t,” Gordon called. “Let him go. He needs to cool down.”

  “I’ve never seen him quite that angry before.”

  “I have. Twice,” Gordon said. Neala cast her gaze towards him, expecting him to explain. “It’s best just to get out of his way when it happens. He’ll come to his senses soon enough. See that we’re right.”

  “We?” Neala felt her heart lighten a little.

  “We.” He nodded. “You’re right. Just defending Tamarik’s borders isn’t enough anymore, and clearly we’ve had little effect on their weapons facilities. We take one out and two more pop up somewhere else.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Did he tell you about the camps we’ve discovered?”

  “No. What sort of camps.”

  Gordon’s eyes wrinkled and she could see him fighting with himself. Should he tell her or shouldn’t he? “You should really ask him about them, but I think it’s part of why he got so angry. He knows what needs to be done and he doesn’t want to do it. Doesn’t mean he won’t do it. Just means it will probably haunt him for a while after it’s done. Prob’ly haunt us all.”

  “I hate it when you’re cryptic.”

  “I know. It’s just not my story to tell. It’s his. Ask him,” Gordon said, giving her a half-smile.

  Neala nodded not sure whether she should be glad there was a story, or disturbed because Cai had never told her about it.

  Fifteen

  They made Sorrel strip to her underwear and gave her a gray uniform to wear when she arrived at the labor camp the next morning. They also wrapped her wrists in leather binding with thin plates of stone pressed against her pulse points. At first she didn’t understand their significance, until she touched the coins sewn into the waistband of her linen underwear. The metal didn’t tingle or respond to her in any way. Somehow the bindings kept her from using her affinity.

  Then two guardsmen grabbed her and held her down, her screams unheard or at least unnoticed as they branded her forearm. The pain seared through her, radiating from her arm to her heart. Now she was forever marked—belonging to this camp and the emperor. When it was over, they yanked her to her feet, her bare feet dragging across the stone floor, searching for purchase. After a few minutes the heavy iron door of a tiny, windowless cell opened and they stopped in front of the yawning black rectangle.

  “It’s quarantine for you,” one of the guardsmen said. He and the other guardsman lifted her off her feet and shoved her forward.

  Her arms caught her before her face landed on the craggy stone floor. She scrambled to her knees and cast her gaze over her shoulder.

  “How long?” she asked.

  He sneered and shrugged. “As long as it takes.”

  The door shut with a clang that vibrated to her bones and she threw herself against the cold iron, banging on it with the heel of her palm. “Wait. Wait! Please! Don’t do this.”

  Down the hallway, she heard another metal door slam shut. No sound came from the corridor. Was she the only one in quarantine?

  “Hello?” she called. No answer. Quarantine. What he really meant, when he closed her up into the dank room with no cot or even a bucket for a toilet, was the place was meant to break her.

  The darkness pressed in on her from all sides and she slid down the door and immediately began pulling on the leather binding. It tightened around her wrist, as if it had a mind of its own, digging into the thin flesh of her wrist. She used her teeth, attempting to saw through the thin straps and the tightness intensified. The more she fought to get it off, the tighter it got until finally her fingers prickled with numbness. Tears flowed and she banged her palm flat against the floor, howling until her throat ached.

  Hours, or maybe it was only minutes passed, she had no sense of time in the solid darkness, and the cold seeped in through the thin cloth of her uniform, biting into her back and legs. She hugged her knees to her chest trying to keep herself warm, but her teeth chattered despite the effort.

  With no light to even count the stones in the walls, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

  Something pinched her leg and she jerked awake. Tiny legs crawled across her skin, sending a shiver through her, and she sprung to her feet swatting at her calf. Another pinch and a squeak. A scream escaped her mouth. It was in her pants leg. She stripped down to her underwear, leaving only her top in place, and stomped as hard as she could in bare feet on the rough cotton. A sickly crunch and the squish of sticky wetness between her toes made her cries dry up in her throat. It hadn’t been a mouse or a rat, but she didn’t know of any bugs that squeaked. She kicked the pants towards the middle of the cell and leaned against the icy metal door. She banged her hand against it again.

  “Please,” she called, unsure if anyone could even hear her. “Please let me out. I’ll do whatever you say. Please.”

  A moan from somewhere down the corridor was her only answer. Sorrel leaned against the door again, her head nestled in the crook of her arm and she wept, wishing she had just jumped through the painting when she’d had the chance.

  ******

  Neala found him on the balcony off their bedroom, leaning with his forearms on the carved stone railing, staring out into the snow covered gardens. She wrapped her sweater tight around her and sidled up next to him, making sure to press her shoulder against his upper arm. He bristled a little but didn’t move away.

  “Hi,” she said softly. “You want to talk about it?”

  “Not particularly.” He glanced at her, his breath puffing out from his nose like an angry bull. “It’s cold out here. You should have a coat on.”

  She shrugged. “I’ll live.”

  He frowned, and went back to looking out at the garden.

  “You were pretty mad at me back there,” she said softly.

  Cai blew out a breath and nodded. “I was and I’m sorry. I let my temper get the best of me.” He took her hand in his and brought it his mouth. His lips grazed the tops of her fingers. “Forgive me?”

  “Of course,” she said and he planted a kiss firmly against her knuckles before nestling her hand against his chest. No trace of the man she saw earlier existed in his dark blue eyes, but she couldn’t quite shake the image of quiet rage boiling just beneath the surface. She sighed.

  “I know we said we should treat each other formally in these meetings—I’m queen, you’re the chief—but I’m wondering now if that’s really a good idea.”

  Cai’s mouth flattened, and a shadow of pain flitted across his eyes. “I really am sorry my love. It won’t happen again.”

  “I know, it’s not really you. It’s me. I think when I call you Chief in those meetings, I turn into a rebellious princess again and everything you do just makes me want to go the opposite way. It’s ridiculous, I know but—”

  “Then by all means call me Cai, but I will always refer to you as Your Majesty. I can’t do anything to undermine your authority.” His mouth quirked on one side into a mischievous smile. “Even if it pains me.”

  “Gordon said I should ask you about the camps you’ve discovered.”

  Cai closed his eyes and his jaw clenched, making the carved lines even more square. She could almost hear him cursing Gordon’s name in his thoughts. When his eyes opened they darkened beneath his heavy brow, looking more indigo than their normal stormy blue.

  “What do you know of my father?”

  Neala’s mouth gaped a little and she shook her head. Cai never spoke of his father. Neither did Peter, that she could recall. “Nothing really. Just that he died when you were very young.”

  “Yes, he did. I was nine and Peter was barely t
hree. I doubt he even remembers him, but I do.”

  Neala moved closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. His eyes became wistful with memory, and he dragged his thumb down her cheek before cupping her chin and resting his hand against her neck.

  “Tell me,” she whispered.

  “You know the forests of Ethavia border the Bohr Mountains.”

  “Of course.”

  “The war with the Bohrs never completely ended for the Ethavians. They continued to raid our towns and forests even after the peace treaty.”

  “But—why would they violate the treaty? Why was nothing done?”

  “Your mother preferred diplomacy and the raiders were considered outcasts. The Bohrs officially denounced them, and the wardens stationed in Ethavia constantly battled with them. It wasn’t until they started stealing girls that your mother sent reinforcements.” Cai’s fingertips pressed gently into the back of her neck.

  “I don’t remember reading or hearing about any of this.”

  “No, probably not.” Cai grimaced. “Victories are recorded. Losses are best forgotten.”

  “Maybe they should be learned from instead.”

  He settled his gaze on her and one corner of his mouth tugged into a sad smile. “Perhaps you’re right.”

  “What happened to your father?”

  “A village on the outskirts of Ethavia, Eryn’s village in fact, was raided and almost every girl between 11 and 18 was taken from her home. The parents were killed when they tried to stop them. It absolutely enraged my father. He was a Warden Commander heading up security for my mother at the time, and he was too young to have fought in the Bohr war. I doubt he ever really saw any real battle.”

  “That’s not a bad thing is it? He was still trained.”

  “Yes he was. But I don’t think any warden was prepared for what my father found.”

  “What?”

  “They had set up work camps. Worked the girls until they were skin and bone, and then they killed them—every single girl. Hung them from their feet and slit their throats. Drained every drop of their blood.” He pitched his voice low.