Prophecy's Promise (Prophecy of the Edges Book 1)

by Lauren Amundson

  I stared at her, unblinking. “He stole your position from you! I won’t do it.” My voice rose in frustration.

  “He didn’t steal anything from me.”

  “You should have been Lead Initiate. He is only the Lead Initiate because he’s the queen’s nephew.”

  The look on her face told me that I had gone too far. “He is your Lead Initiate and second in line for the throne. I don’t ever want to hear you say anything like that again.”

  “Why are you defending him? You don’t even like him.”

  “I don’t have to like him. I have to respect him. It’s beneficial for all of us Weavers that our leader is someone so close to the queen. Am I disappointed that I am not Lead Initiate? Of course.”

  “Then why—” I started, but she cut me off.

  “But I am able to see past my own selfish desires and understand what is best for our country and our people. You have no option. As the Lead Scholar, I cast you from our Track. You will not sit for the Exams. You are a Warrior Apprentice. I hope you learn to embrace your duty.”

  Nothing made sense anymore. Feelings of betrayal washed over me. I couldn't speak; I could hardly breathe. It seemed ludicrous to suggest that I could do anything to fix The Edge. I closed and opened my mouth several times, trying to summon a convincing argument, but nothing came. I ran from the room.

  Tears blurred my vision. Where could I go? Nazarie had abandoned me. Meena was teaching. I should have been teaching. All who lived in the quarters along this empty hallway had a purpose. A purpose of their choosing. What did I have? Tears cascaded down my cheeks. I tripped and fell crumpling to the ground. I lay there for a moment, feeling silly and helpless. I sat up and wiped my eyes. I wanted to study people who had adventures and shaped the course of history. I did not want to be one of them.

  Whenever I felt stressed or needed to work through a problem, I would go to the sparring ground and lose myself in the Patterns of Warriors, but I didn’t want to give the impression that I was excited or even the least bit interested in this new direction for my life.

  I could remember—which is a small miracle in itself since I had very few memories from before the accident—that as a child, I would hide with the horses when my father got in one of his tempers. That's where I had been hiding the day Nazarie rescued me. I picked myself up off the floor and walked purposefully toward the stables.

  As I entered, the stable boy turned to gather tack. “I'm not going riding,” I told him. I simply wanted to sit idle amongst the horses, but I didn't want him to bother me. “Can I brush one of them?”

  The boy—probably only a few years older than my students—eyed me for a minute and then, gesturing to a small horse, handed me a brush. “I still have to do that one.”

  I took the brush and grabbed a bucket. I hadn't been out to the stables in over a year. I never seemed to find the time to come. I had forgotten how relaxing menial labor could be. I held my palm up for the horse to sniff. It snorted then turned to continue snacking on the hay, assuming that I was harmless enough. I let the motion of the task of grooming the horse take over me. Horses were bred to run, and yet here these stayed tethered, sentenced to a life where they were allowed to run only when others deem it acceptable.

  I didn't hear Meena walk up behind me. “Nazarie said I might find you here.” Her words ripped me from my melancholy thoughts.

  “Did she tell you?” I asked, not taking my eyes from the horse in fear that I’d start to cry the second I looked into her face. It didn’t help; I felt tears welling up. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

  “Some.” Meena sat down on a hay bale. I could feel her silently watching me. “It's not all that awful,” she said after a time.

  “How do you reckon?” I asked, my voice sounding angrier than I meant it to.

  “Altis isn't horrible.” She held her hand up to prevent any retorts. “Despite whatever is between him and your aunt, Altis is good at his job. He’s the strongest Weaver in hundreds of years. That's why the Council broke from tradition and elected him as the Lead Initiate. Even Nazarie supports that decision.”

  She ignored my humph. He was the nephew of the queen. Strong or not, nepotism was why he, and not my aunt, now held the rank.

  “Nazarie said that she thought you’d add a different dimension to Altis’s mission.”

  “I don't care. All I want to do is be a Scholar. I want to go down in history as the youngest Scholar Initiate. I want to be remembered for discovering strange and wonderful things about the Mist and how our world works.”

  “How could you turn down a chance to save us all?”

  “Meena, if I thought that somewhere deep inside me lay even the slightest potential to help—an iota of knowledge or insight—don't you think I'd jump to do so?” I glared at her, willing her to believe me. “The Guardians wouldn't pick a shy Scholar-to-be who is more interested in books than glory. There's no way.”

  “If the Guardians did not pick you—which I highly doubt since you were sent the Mist Apparition—the Lead Initiate did pick you.”

  “I wish he’d pick someone who could do it.”

  “He did.” Meena put her arm around me. “I'm sure and so is Nazarie.” I loved Meena for her unrelenting confidence in me. My first night here, all the other girls had whispered amongst themselves and gawked at me. But Meena gave me one of her extra dolls and invited me to eat dinner with her. We’ve been fast friends ever since.

  “You came here years later than any of us,” she continued, “with hardly a memory, and within two years, you had caught up, and then surpassed us. Now look at you. The youngest Apprentice to be invited to take the Exams, and internationally published for that stuff on Astronomical Calculus and how the stars and planets influences our Mist not to mention those textbooks for the Novice Apprentices you wrote. I’m smart, and you lost me three paragraphs in. I heard yesterday that Dybreakea’s nobility has their children follow the curriculum that you set forth in that series you wrote.”

  “Really?” Bittersweet reality. “What a waste. Forced into being a Warrior without a clue how to save myself or anyone else.” Despite my words, I smiled and did feel a little better.

  “You want to know the other thing Nazarie told me?”

  “What?”

  “To drag you to the library.”

  I replaced the grooming tools and waved good-bye to the stable boy. From the stables, the fastest way to the library was to walk outside around the north part of the Keep, as the library was on the city-side of the complex. A covered limestone colonnade connected the library to the rest of the Keep. Clumps of studying students were interspersed with visitors. Per usual, several picnickers were present as well. Some laid their blankets under the colonnade while others had spread out onto the grass and gardens between the library and the rest of the Keep.

  The moment that Meena and I entered the library’s foyer, Aleza, the senior librarian, rushed over. “I’ve been waiting for you, Hailey. The Lead Initiate himself dropped off a packet for you a few hours ago,” she said.

  Annoyingly, I nearly started my sobbing all over again.

  Aleza hugged me. “Oh, child.” She led me over to a worn blue chair and coaxed me to sit. The same familiar scents of binding paste, paper, and knowledge swirled around me.

  “I’m sorry. I’m being silly.” I forced a smile. “Everything is fine.”

  Aleza pursed her lips, obviously not believing me, but thankfully did not press the point. “I’ll fetch the packet,” she offered. Within the packet, I found instructions to write a report about the disappearing of the world along The Edge and the types of information I needed to gather. I was to work closely with Altis to prepare it, which was the worst part of the assignment. I have written hundreds of reports in my academic career. I didn’t need some Warrior analyzing every assertion over my shoulder.

  Over the next few days, in addition to learning everything I could about The Edge, I learned that I hated everything about Alti
s. I hated his exaggerated motions that encroached on space he didn't need. I hated the condescending way that he spoke to me, like I was some silly little girl who didn't know anything.

  Mostly, I hated being his assistant and knowing that, in a very short time, I would be forced to travel with him. Gods and Guardians willing, our party would be large enough that I wouldn’t have to interact with him much while we were on our journey. I hated how Altis assumed he knew everything about me. Like he had me figured out.

  I handed Altis my latest assignment, a report for Queen Mauzaca on the rate of disappearance of the world. For all I knew, this could be the last report I would write. I didn’t ask if I would be allowed to continue my studies after we healed The Edge, because I was afraid to hear the answer.

  “This report is too stilted. The tone is too removed from the present. It doesn’t connect reality with the facts.” His tone was short, almost exhausted. I was exhausted, too, after our near constant bickering.

  “Facts and reality are the same,” I replied, confused.

  “Despite the tone, it looks thorough enough, although rather disturbing.” The rate of disappearance was growing faster by the week. I had never seen him look so utterly exhausted. For a moment, I almost didn’t hate him.

  “I could still take my Exams,” I suggested. “I mean, will we even be leaving before the Exams would be over?”

  He ignored my question. He set the report down and returned his attention to me. “So, Master Leham says that he tested your standard combat skills. He remembers that you used to be very good before you chose your Scholar Track. He is confident that the muscle memory will return, but that you aren't very poised. You need the Mist to be of any real use.”

  I felt the blood rise to my cheeks. “Why would I ever need to spar without the Mist, and why not with the weapon of my choice? I managed to best one of his Journeymen. If I’d been allowed my twin daggers with their Mist-Fortification, I'd have beaten the others. The whole situation seems a bit contrived and academic.”

  “A Scholar complaining about something being too academic? Interesting,” he mused.

  “I don’t want to waste my time or Leham’s.”

  “If you understand the Patterns of the Warriors well enough to hit the mark unaided by the Mist, you’ll be much more prepared when you are in a real battle.”

  “You think we’ll have a battle?” I asked, not even trying to hide the fear from my voice.

  “It’s always a possibility out in the field,” Altis said. “You’re smart, and your Mist is uncommonly strong. Study some defensive spells in your spare time and keep weaving the Fortifications around your daggers. You’ll be fine.”

  I blinked a few times in surprise. That sounded like a compliment.

  He pressed on. “For now, we need to focus on our interview with the queen and crown prince this afternoon. Wear your best Apprentice robes. All you need to do is show up and keep quiet.” He paused for a moment; his piercing blue eyes seemed to be looking into my very soul. I had blue eyes too, but could never manage to make them look quite as icy as Altis’s glare made his. “I don't believe that will be too difficult to accomplish. That's it. You are dismissed.”

  I left the room as composed as I could keep myself. Meena was waiting for me by the door. “So, how did it go?” She took my arm in hers.

  “He says that I'm not very poised.”

  “I'd have to agree with that.”

  “Well, it's not so bad coming from you. And I'm not saying that I am. I'm only saying that... that... well, that he didn't have to say it so bluntly.”

  “I think blunt is how he comes,” Meena said.

  “He is a Warrior,” I agreed.

  “At least he’s nice to look at,” Meena said. “If you can see past that cloud of arrogance.”

  I snorted. “True. But weirdly enough, I think he may have complimented me.”

  “Well, that is interesting,” Meena replied cryptically.

  Chapter 3

  I had always imagined meetings with Queen Mauzaca in her Throne Room, glittering crown atop her white hair. But, apparently, the Throne Room was for grandiose events. Serious ones occurred in a much more intimate location. I didn’t venture into the castle-proper very much. Overall, much of the architectural style was similar to the Keep but not nearly as ancient. However, Altis’s aunt did not hold to his own austere decorating scheme, at least not in this room. A thick carpet with geometric purple and brown shapes blanketed the grey stone floor. A dozen tapestries depicting various events in Gryshelm’s history adorned the walls. It was off-putting to see a Mist-free tapestry.

  The immense table took up much of the space of the medium-sized room, leaving very little room for those of us sitting away from the table. High-ranking nobility filled half the spaces at the table. Since I didn’t follow court gossip much, I was unsure of who was who. Altis and the Weaver Track Leads, including Nazarie, sat around the other half.

  Unlike the last time I’d seen her, Nazarie wore her hair in her usual spiral curls, but with the front locks pinned back in a half chignon. She perched on her chair, her back pin straight, and clutched a pen in one hand, ready to take notes. She smiled at me and waved. I nodded back at her.

  Everyone stood up as Queen Mauzaca entered. I had never seen her without her crown, but she didn't need it to look every bit a queen. Having never seen Altis and his aunt in the same room before, I hadn’t noticed the family resemblance between them. They had the same strong chin and clear, blue eyes.

  I willed myself to look forward as the queen’s gaze met mine. Taking their cue from the queen, everyone in the room turned to consider me. I could hear hushed murmurs. This was too much focus, too many eyes. Queen Mauzaca sat down, eyes still locked on me. I hadn't realized how old she must be. Her hair, meticulously worn in a straight, blunt line to her shoulders, was noticeably thinning and her skin had a slight yellowish hue.

  After a moment, Crown Prince Jaysen stood up and walked over to my chair. “So, is this the girl who has had a Mist Apparition?” I willed myself to sit up straight and looked intently at the back of Altis’s head. I clasped my hands so tightly together they hurt. “The one they call the greatest mind of our time?”

  “Yes, she is.” Altis said, turning around to face his cousin. Meena had always called me that, but I hadn't realized that others had, too.

  “She looks like a rabbit caught in a trap.” The prince responded. “Why is that?” The question was directed at me, but I didn't know what to say. I had been told to stay quiet. I could feel my cheeks getting warm. I bit the inside of my lip, hoping none would notice, and raised my chin, trying to look less-rabbit like.

  Altis turned around and glared at me. I suppose that was a signal that I was permitted to speak. “I... I have never been in formal audience with you or the queen before, Your Highness.” I said, bowing my head in respect.

  Prince Jaysen continued to study me, then nodded and took his seat. “Altis, you are sure that together you and this girl can stop whatever is happening to our world?”

  “I am confident that we are the best option,” Altis said.

  “But you’ve no solution?”

  “Studying The Edge has taught us much. We’ve learned the scale, scope, and cost of failure.”

  “And what is the cost of failure?”

  “Complete destruction of Gryshelm and every other country on our planet.”

  “Surely it’s not that bad?” Jaysen scoffed.

  Altis presented the facts in my report, but the words he used to describe them added gravity and depth. He cited examples of farmers, now refugees who’d lost their homes and crops. He noted the lost agriculture and the risk of famine as farms became nothingness and the people crowded into the cities. A girl had fallen into The Edge. She had bounced from it like a ball off a wall, leaving behind a burnt, twisted, and thoroughly unrecognizable corpse.

  When Altis finished, the silence in the room said more than hours of debate would have. Ma
ny of those in attendance held their mouths half-open, fear visible in their eyes.

  “As I said, the cost of failure is death,” Altis repeated. “And because of this, I want to leave in a week.”

  “What sort of delegation did you have in mind?” Queen Mauzaca asked.

  “Two: my Apprentice and myself.”

  “That’s too dangerous,” the queen retorted.

  “It’s too dangerous not to, Your Highness,” Altis responded. “Unencumbered by all the trappings that accompany a battalion, or even a small guard, the two of us will move much faster. The Edge is accelerating. Every day costs lives. This is a tactical decision.”

  Great, I thought. I’ll be alone in the wilderness with no one to talk to except Altis.

  Queen Mauzaca stood up. “I am hesitant, nephew, but you are right. Our citizens lose family members to this phenomenon daily. You take the future of our very survival into your hands. I will not have my son inherit a shrinking kingdom. You both have given up things that you have desired.” Hearing the queen voice my concerns made me realize how selfish and misplaced my anger had been. “I expect that both of you will attend the feast tonight in celebration of our treaty with Dybreakea. In uncertain times such as these, friends are our most important assets.”

  Most young women would have been excited to attend a royal feast. I was not one of those women. I enjoy order. I enjoy making a checklist and seeing item after item crossed off as I exceed each goal I’d set for the day. I do not enjoy idle conversation. The pinnacle of lavishness that I enjoyed was a quiet bubble bath, perhaps with a glass of red wine if I felt like splurging. Tonight would be far from my idea of a good time.

  I had worn my only nice dress to my Scholar Party a few weeks prior, and Meena couldn't stand to have me in the same dress twice in a row. She and I were of a similar, albeit short, height. Her father, a widowed merchant in the city, required her to accompany him to parties and gatherings. Meena was convinced that he was trying to marry her off to one of the other merchant families, a theory confirmed by the frequency of new dresses and jewelry he sent for her to wear when she appeared in public.