Decadia Series: Books 1-3

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Decadia Series: Books 1-3 Page 36

by Apryl Baker


  Chapter Ten

  “You haven’t ignored or scowled at me today. Does that mean you forgive me?”

  “Forgiveness is a strong word.” Stephen leaned back on the oars, letting the current take them further and further out to sea. “Let’s just say I’ve gained some perspective.”

  Ryder nodded. The last thing she wanted was to push Stephen in a direction that would dredge up past sins. And it was nice not to have him glaring at her every time she looked his way.

  “We’re almost to Tobias’s wards now. Once we’re through and on the boat, you’ll be able to transform and heal.” Stephen reminded her of the plan. “Then it’s straight back to the Thieves Guild.”

  “And Valeria.” Ryder didn’t mean to say the two words out loud. They stumbled out on their own. Ryder looked at the former captain with wide eyes, expecting him to revert to his stoic demeanor.

  He didn’t. Instead, he pulled on the oars again, dipping the polished wood into the salty sea. They were well out of the harbor, only a few ships within eyesight. The sea this close to Atlantis was still teeming with life, so unlike the ocean either of them was used to.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Stephen looked at Ryder, almost cracking a grin. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

  “It’s obvious you care for her.” Ryder pulled the cloak around her shoulders, wincing at the pain it brought. “What’s not obvious is the change that’s come about you.”

  There, she said it. It was out in the open now. If he wanted to fire back at her with anger, he could. For a brief moment, Ryder thought the old Stephen would come back. She expected to see the fire in his eyes, the disdain, even the hate he held for her. It never came.

  “I had time to think while I was in that prison.” Stephen rowed harder. Forcing his arms to work faster, his breathing became heavier. “I’d regret a lot of things if I had died in that cell. I don’t want to live like that anymore.”

  Ryder understood how difficult it must be for someone like Stephen to admit that to himself, let alone a former enemy. The way he strained on the oars, sending them flying over the sea, was only a way for him to deal with the emotion the words brought.

  “Well, it may not be worth anything to you, but I’m glad we’re—on the same side now.” Ryder continued to choose her words carefully. “And I’ve seen the way Valeria looks at you. She still cares for you.”

  Sweat was beading down Stephen’s face. He gave Ryder a quick nod, refusing to make eye contact. It was clear he was finished with the conversation. As if to punctuate this thought, he looked behind his shoulder to the island where The Emerald Queen lay invisibly docked.

  “We’re here.” Stephen placed the oars inside the boat, letting their forward momentum carry them on. “We should pass through the ward soon and be able to see the ship.”

  Ryder followed Stephen’s gaze. The island they were coasting toward was small. No more than a mound of sand and a few trees and clumps of grass, really.

  One moment there was nothing else there, then their boat passed through a kind of glimmering haze. To Ryder it was what she imagined stepping through a mirror would feel like. The air rippled around them, and the next second they were through.

  In front of them, standing out of the water like a prehistoric leviathan rising from the deep, was Valeria’s ship, The Emerald Queen. The notion a ship could actually ride waves instead of wind gusts was something foreign to Ryder. With all the oceans poisoned outside of Atlantis, she was only used to seeing ships in the air, at the most docked for a brief stint, not anchored and secured in the water.

  “Take the time you need to recover, but no more than is necessary.” Stephen grabbed the offered mooring line from the ship’s crew. “Valeria will need us again. If I’m right, sooner rather than later.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Hera stormed into her quarters, throwing her cloak off as she passed the dark burgundy sofa that dominated the living area. Fury boiled through her veins as she did her best to calm down. How dare he set foot back onto Atlantian shores? How dare he!

  Tobias Dendali.

  The name still caused a painful clenching of her heart. The man who proclaimed to love her, yet tossed her aside for the insipid little nothing his king declared he must marry. And Tobias, being Tobias, agreed. Not only did he agree, but the fool fell in love with the ninny and broke off his relationship with Hera.

  It still burned like a volcano whose lava pit simmered just beneath the surface, festered in her soul. She wanted him dead—in fact thought he might be after all these years. He’d left Atlantis, so he’d aged, and she’d prayed to any and every god she could think of for his painful demise.

  Such was not the case.

  He’d returned to Atlantis as handsome as ever, along with his flesh and blood. Hera had no doubt Tobias was there to reclaim the throne. For himself or the girl who traveled with him. He wanted his home back.

  Well, he couldn’t have it.

  After his betrayal of her, Hera had her own revenge wrought upon the man. She’d slipped him a potion every day to cloud his judgement. She was the reason he fell in line with Kronos. She was the reason he betrayed his brother. She was the reason he’d lost his title, his name, and his home. She took everything away from him, just as he’d stripped her of the one small shred of love she’d clung to.

  The man still lived. She’d just received word the bodies had been removed. There was only one reason to remove the bodies from the incendiary room.

  They weren’t dead.

  She threw a vase against the wall, her anger needing an outlet that wouldn’t tear her living quarters apart, and then took deep, calming breaths. She needed to get hold of herself.

  Ileana. It had to be that traitorous little backstabber. But how to prove it? If she so much as breathed wrong in the little thief’s direction, Kronos would have her head. He had a soft spot for the girl. Why, Hera had never been able to determine. It irritated her, though, and threw a wrench in her plans for revenge. She was going to have to do something to prove Ileana’s treachery so even Kronos would be forced to acknowledge it. But how?

  Ileana was something that would require a subtle touch. Perhaps she should find one of those closest to her and bespell them. Getting hold of one such heathen unbeknownst to Ileana would prove a feat, but she was fairly certain it was her only option.

  She’d worked too hard to let all her plans be ruined by Tobias. She should be the rightful ruler of Atlantis. It was her plan that allowed Kronos to take power, her plan that gave him the necessary tool in her ex-lover to overthrow the crown. Everything Kronos had done these past years had always been a part of her plan, even though he knew it not.

  Even the plan to attack DeCadia. Kronos had given her carte blanche to amass an army of magical beasts, thinking they’d be used to overwhelm the poor humans who occupied DeCadia. Well, truthfully, they would do that, but in the end, it wouldn’t be Kronos controlling her lovelies. It would be Hera. She rubbed her hands, thinking of the day when Kronos would look at her and understand how much she hated him right before her beasties devoured him and she stood as queen of both Atlantis and DeCadia.

  That was her end game.

  And Tobias or not, she would be queen.

  Chapter Twelve

  Tobias stood overlooking the city. It spread out before him as beautiful and alive as ever, only the once great city seemed hushed, afraid. Even with the crowds shouting, an undercurrent of uncertainty and fear ran through them. No one wanted war. They’d created the curse specifically to avoid war. What had changed so much that the peaceful Atlantians were calling for blood and war?

  Kronos.

  He’d infected them with his hatred and madness. Tobias always knew running was the wrong choice. He should have stayed, worked with the people who still loved his brother, saved Atlantis from Kronos. He could have gotten his wife and child to safety. The same people who’d taken them to DeCadia could have taken them alone, but the coward in him had run.r />
  He couldn’t face what he’d done to his family…to his brother. All for a man who’d lied and destroyed everything Tobias loved in this world. At least he’d been given a chance to set things right. It might still mean his end, but for once he wasn’t going to hide from death. If the old man wanted him, he could come for him. As long as he put the true ruler of his people back on the throne.

  He rolled his head, trying to alleviate some of the stress from his neck and shoulders. Convincing his granddaughter to take back the throne wasn’t as easy as he’d hoped. She wanted no part of this fight. These people she’d hoped would welcome her had thrown her in prison and planned to execute her. The people of DeCadia had never been her people either. Her family had sold her to a brothel at the age of three. She’d grown up learning exactly how unkind humanity was to a little orphan girl.

  Now that orphan girl was the only thing that stood between them and war, a war unlike anything they’d ever known. Magic and technology that far surpassed their own. It would only take Kronos weeks to subdue DeCadia.

  He gripped the railing and looked out over the water. A prayer went up to gods that had long since forgotten him, but he could only hope they still listened for Valeria. The girl must be made to see reason. For all their sakes.

  “Tobias.”

  He jumped, the sound of Ileana’s voice startling him. The woman moved quieter than a cat, but given her line of work, that must be a handy trait. She was lounging against the wall behind him. Leave it to a thief to find him, even here in his most secret place.

  “What is it?”

  “Don’t get all grumpy with me, old man.” Ileana pushed off the wall and joined him at the rail. They were standing on the highest parapet of the castle. No one dared come up here. It was dangerous with the wind, and more than a few had fallen to their deaths. Today it was peaceful, only a slight breeze interrupting the heat.

  “What is it you need?”

  “We’ve arranged to meet with a few key people tonight.” She leaned over, and Tobias automatically wrapped an arm around her to keep her from falling.

  She laughed. “I’m not going to fall. My father taught me how to evade capture upon these parapets. I can probably traverse them better than you.”

  “I doubt that.” He let her go and went back to looking out over the city. “They seem bloodthirsty. If I wasn’t so aware of the city, of how it breathed and spoke to me, I’d think the entire populace belongs to Kronos.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a Dendali gift. The city is built upon our ancestors’ bones. The dust is ground into the pavement, into the walls, into the very palace itself. That ancestry speaks to us. It allows us some insight into the thoughts of the people. There is fear and uncertainty amongst the rabble. Not everyone wants this war, even if they are shouting it to the heavens.”

  “True enough.” She tilted her head, staring across the ocean. Tobias was struck at how much she resembled her great-grandmother. Did she even realize Hera was her great grandmother? He remembered when her grandmother was born. Thelia, Hera’s only child, had been hidden from her. At the time, he didn’t understand why it was necessary, but given all that Hera had done, he understood her father’s reasoning. They took to the underbelly of the city and had thrived.

  Seeing her now reminded him of the Hera he’d once known, the woman he’d loved but had given up at the request of his king. Ileana reminded him so much of Hera, but he also saw the differences. She was her own woman, and he shouldn’t compare her to his old mistress. They were as different as daylight and darkness. Hera was full of blackness, and Ileana, despite her illicit career, was full of light. He saw it in her every day.

  “What is the mood of those who come tonight?” He brought his thoughts back around to what needed to be done. Best not to let himself dwell on Ileana. It wouldn’t end well.

  “They are tired of Kronos and the path he’s led our people, our city down. He has inflicted wounds upon this city that may never heal, but these people are willing to try to find a way for us all to recover. Even if it means another coup.”

  “But it will be a coup that puts the true leader of our people back on the throne.”

  “You do not want to be king?”

  He’d expected Ileana’s question. In all honestly, he’d thought she’d have grilled him sooner.

  “It was by my hand that my brother died, even if I didn’t hold the blade. I would never stain the throne with my treachery. But Valeria? She’s so much like him, it scares me. I see so much of the Dendalis in her, if she would only give it a chance. She’s full of anger and pain, but she’s loyal to those who deserve it, and sometimes even to those who don’t. She can lead these people back to the Atlantis it once was.”

  “But will she?” Ileana sighed. “We need a leader, and your granddaughter doesn’t want the job. How do we change her mind?”

  “Lukas.” Tobias nodded as the solution came to him. “She trusts that man more than anyone in this world, even that Navy captain of hers. If we can convince Lukas this is Valeria’s path, we stand a chance of getting her to agree.”

  “Then let’s go find Lukas, old man, and settle this before our guests arrive.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “And why is it you think I’d be so inclined to aid you in your little coup?”

  “Because if you don’t, I’m going to leave you in this cage to rot the rest of your miserable life away.”

  The changeling looked Stephen up and down from where he stood in the shadows of his cell in the ship’s brig.

  The ship rocked lightly from side to side on the clean waves just outside Atlantis. The sun’s rays coming in from the small circular windows seemed to evade the deep shadow where the changeling had chosen to hide.

  “Is this what you would have me look like, soldier boy?” The changeling stepped out of the darkness wearing Valeria’s form, from her dark curls all the way down to the worn, brown boots—a perfect likeness. “Are you sure it’s only to act as her double? Nothing else?”

  “You’re one twisted creature.” Stephen shook his head, taking in the changeling’s meaning. “You’ll act as her double, and in return, when she’s safe on the throne, you’ll have your freedom.”

  “Hmmm…And what’s to keep me from escaping during this time? Once I’m out of this cell and in the city, I could change into anyone I please. I could disappear into the Atlantian crowd, never to be seen again.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little changeling head over the details.” Stephen grinned. “I think somewhere deep down, you want to be free. I think under that monster you want everyone to think you are is something else.”

  “Right, like you know me so well.” The changeling’s skin shimmered then turned fuzzy as it transformed in front of Stephen’s eyes. In the space of a heartbeat, Stephen was looking at a clone of himself. “Did you forget I tried to kill you?”

  “‘Tried’ being the appropriate word.” Stephen took a step to the bars, close enough for the changeling to grab him if he chose. “You were a trial of the Crucible, but what are you now? A prisoner, for what? Until the rest of time? Until you die? You have a choice to not only earn your freedom but be part of something that will last for generations to come.”

  “Oh, spare me. I’d actually rather be killed before I listen to you tell me what you think I want. I’m not a child.”

  “Well, then, you should stop acting like one. Start making decisions for yourself.” Stephen reached into his pocket and produced an iron key on a worn keyring. “What do you say?”

  “Well, I’m not going to say no.”

  “Great.” Stephen looked behind him to where a door led up to the deck above. “Ryder, you can come in now.”

  Ryder appeared a moment later, refreshed from her time in her Dragon form above. She practically shone with health and radiance. A wide smile was plastered across her lips, and she carried a massive chain in her hands. Each link was roughly the size of a d
inner plate.

  “What’s the Dragon doing here?” The changeling’s grin faltered. “You didn’t say anything about a chain.”

  “Change? May I call you Change?” Stephen didn’t wait for an answer. “You’re going to be partnered with Ryder until we reach Atlantis. Once we’re there, I have an idea to run past Tobias that will be a bit more comfortable for you.”

  “I hate Dragons,” the changeling muttered under his breath. “They smell funny.”

  “Yeah, well,” Stephen caught Ryder’s eye, “they’re not so bad once you get to know them. I never noticed a smell though.”

  “I do not smell.” Ryder raised a playful eyebrow. “Unless my last meal consisted of changeling. They give me terrible gas.”

  “Enough, enough of your weird banter.” The changeling once more shifted, but this time from Stephen’s clone to an old woman, complete with a stooped back and heavy wrinkles. “If you’re heartless enough to chain an old woman, then do so, and I hope you can live with yourself at night.”

  Ryder looked over at Stephen. “Are we sure we want this guy on our team?”

  Stephen inserted the key to the cell and twisted it with a loud click. Under his cool disguise of indifference, he was ready for anything. He remembered his last encounter with the changeling when he had almost lost his life.

  “He’s not as bad as he pretends to be.” Stephen stepped inside the cell, motioning Ryder forward. “At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself about people lately.”

  Ryder moved in, blocking the exit. She handled the chains that must have weighed hundreds of pounds with ease.

  “Hands,” Ryder ordered to the stooped, elderly woman. “Stop playing games.”

  “You two are sick.” The old woman put her gnarled hands forward and allowed them to be chained by Ryder. “How can you look yourselves in the mirror?”

 

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