Illusion: Book Four of the Grimoire Saga

by S. M. Boyce

  He pointed to a map of the Ayavelian guard tower they’d used in practice. “The war game taught us a lot about our strengths and weaknesses as a team. I’ve collected reports from your generals and captains to get a solid understanding of what happened. While our tactics and approach are solid, I’m afraid we need to make some changes for our attack at the Stele to succeed. Namely, we have three problems to discuss. But first, I have a question for Blood Aurora.”

  Aurora perked in her seat, eyebrows arched in surprise.

  His fingers tapped on the table as he toyed with his words.

  “Your wing…” he finally began.

  Her shoulders drooped, but she held up a hand to stop him. “General Gurien and his men have fashioned a chariot for me. I’ll be able to join them at the summit, though not in the battle.”

  Braeden nodded. Fair enough. He let out a huff of air, grateful he didn’t have to word such an offensive question. A Kirelm Blood unable to fly and join in a war—it would have made lesser kings and queens hang their heads in shame. But Aurora offered him a thin smile and nodded for him to continue.

  He shuffled through his papers and pulled out an aerial map of the Stele. He slid it toward the center of the table, where all but Evelyn could easily see. He carried on regardless. She should have sat closer to the group.

  “To begin, the Kirelms dropped fireballs with uncanny precision, hitting a target almost every time. The downside is they aimed without pausing to question if their target was an ally.”

  “My men attacked our own foot-soldiers?” Aurora asked.

  Braeden nodded. “It’s understandable in the heat of battle, but we can’t afford such losses. We need a way to mark targets. I propose we do so with bolts of lightning. If there’s a thunderstorm on the day of the attack, we stand the chance of some interference, but not enough to abandon the idea.”

  “Are storms common this time of year in the Stele?” Frine asked.

  “Not particularly, but they do happen.”

  “That sounds like a good plan to me,” Aurora said with a shrug.

  Gavin nodded. “Lightning is a common attack, so it should be easy enough for the ground soldiers to implement.”

  “Blood Evelyn?” Aurora prompted.

  Evelyn waved her hand as if dismissing the question. “It’s fine. Continue.”

  “Very well. It’s decided. Next concern?” Frine asked.

  Braeden plowed ahead. “Our second concern involves my mission into the Stele to find Carden. When Kara and I entered with Gavin’s team, we were held back and often deterred by the defending forces. It took us forty minutes to get inside the fort when it should have taken ten.”

  “So what will you do instead?” Evelyn asked, eyes suddenly on him.

  A flare of annoyance twisted in Braeden’s chest, but he took a deep breath and forged ahead without looking up at the girl he had loathed for so long.

  “My team and I will go in another way, allowing for Gavin’s forces to further draw attention away from us.”

  “Where will you enter the castle?” Evelyn asked.

  Braeden’s jaw tensed. “I believe it’s best only Kara and I know that.”

  The Ayavelian Blood scoffed. “First, you refuse to tell us the names of those joining you in your little expedition. Now you expect us to allow you to disappear on the eve of the most important battle in this war? Why should we trust you with so much of the attack when it’s shrouded in secrecy?”

  The other Bloods shifted in their seats, eyes on Braeden. He kept his focus on the table and took a slow breath to steady himself. He needed to chose his words carefully. “On my last reconnaissance mission to the Stele, Gavin and I were ambushed. As both of us are masters of stealth, Carden could not have known we were there unless someone told him. I’m afraid he has a source close to our armies.”

  Frine gasped. “A traitor?”

  “I can’t confirm that, but it’s my guess,” Braeden said.

  Aurora’s eyes widened. “How can we attack the Stele if there’s a traitor? He could know everything we do! We should wait until we can either confirm or deny your suspicion.”

  Braeden shook his head. “I disagree. It’s only a guess, and to waste an opportunity to attack the Stele would prolong this war. By keeping my team’s placement and numbers a secret, we can still win.”

  “I don’t see how,” Evelyn said.

  He glanced across the table, observing her for a second. She glared at him, her eyes narrowed and arms crossed as she sat straight in her chair with all the posture of a queen. Whatever goodness was once in her—whatever bit of her Gavin once loved—no longer remained. Acquiring Aislynn’s bloodline had destroyed her.

  “That’s the point,” Braeden finally said.

  “Everyone, please. Let’s be civil,” Frine said.

  Evelyn lifted her chin and looked out the window, back straight as a board. Braeden returned his gaze to his papers.

  Gavin leaned his elbows on the table. “Braeden has proven himself time and again. We should trust him.”

  Aurora crossed her arms. “I concur. If Kara trusts him enough to bond with him, I trust him to lead us.”

  Evelyn leaned back in her seat and coughed in what could only be disgust.

  Frine gestured toward the Bloods seated around the table. “You have our collective vote to do this, Heir Braeden. We trust you.”

  “Thank you,” Braeden said with a nod.

  “Will your team leave separately from us?” Gavin asked.

  “It would be best. Our small team can move faster. Your armies are slated to leave together, headed for the secret lichgate I found not long ago. We will leave after you, and visit a different one,” Braeden lied. They would be leaving far sooner and using the same lichgate as everyone else, but he didn’t need the supposed traitor to follow him and find out who was in the group or where he was headed.

  “Very well,” Frine said.

  “What’s this third concern of yours?” Aurora asked.

  Braeden leaned back in his seat. “Organization. The battle was chaos. Though each army has a purpose of its own, they didn’t work well together when it came time to interact, as will inevitably happen in the final attack on the Stele. I mean, look at each mission—Hillside is meant to lead the onslaught on the front gates, effectively distracting the Stelians from my team; Losse is approaching from under the city, using its aqueducts to enter from the city’s wells; and Kirelm is offering air support for the ground teams. But in practice, everyone began at different times and aimed for sections of the wall that weren't needed. We need some way to coordinate and organize the attack.”

  “But how?” Gavin asked.

  “Vagabonds,” Braeden answered.

  The room hushed. Aurora’s mouth hung open.

  Braeden continued. “Vagabonds can communicate through their grimoires, effectively giving us instant access to each other as long as each vagabond in each team keeps his or her grimoire open as much as possible. While it won’t be possible for them to do this at all times, it can at a minimum give us a coordinated attack effort at the beginning. Then, when I loose the Stelian banner over the armies, the battle and effectively the war itself will end.”

  “Have any vagabonds agreed to this?” Frine asked.

  “Kara is asking for volunteers. The plan is to station one in each army with the Blood and one at the kingdom’s home city as a security measure.”

  “Why do we need vagabonds in our homes?” Evelyn asked.

  Braeden didn’t look at her as he answered. “To ensure that the home kingdoms are safe in the Blood’s absence. This allows for two-way communication if they need support and to allow them an understanding of what’s going on across the world, but in real time.”

  Gavin laughed. “Brilliant.”

  “I agree,” Aurora said.

  “Will we meet these vagabonds?” Frine asked.

  Braeden nodded. “Whichever vagabonds are able to join us will. Those who cannot will
still give you their full identities.”

  “I appreciate the courtesy,” Frine said with a bow of his head.

  Braeden crossed his arms. “It’s settled. The Kirelms will attack only targets marked by streaks of lightning. Kara and I will take our team into the kingdom separately from the main assault. And vagabonds will help to orchestrate the opening attacks.”

  “Should the order stay the same?” Aurora asked.

  “Mostly. Garrett should attack first, taking whatever form inspires him to distract the Stelian guards. Hillside will follow with what isen Kara can persuade to join us.”—everyone cringed, but Braeden plowed ahead—“Kirelm will then attack from the air, and Losse will attack after Hillside has drawn attention from the central hub of the city, where most wells are located. When I release the banner over the city, we’ll all meet here”—he pointed to his map—“in the throne room, to regroup. As a final note, it’s imperative only we in this room know about my team’s purpose. Though there have been some rumors since the war game, I ask that all Bloods keep quiet about our purpose for our own safety.”

  Gavin nodded. “Agreed.”

  A murmur of agreement bubbled through the room, but Evelyn remained fixated on the window. Braeden balled one hand into a fist, watching her as she sat still as a stone.

  “Blood Evelyn, do you agree?” he asked.

  Her eyes shifted while the rest of her remained still. She looked at him and smirked. “Of course.”

  An hour later, Braeden lay alone on the bed he shared with Kara, staring up at the ceiling as the night spun around him. His notes and maps sat in a loose pile on the desk by the door.

  Crickets chirped outside the window, their trilling muffled by the glass. Floorboards creaked in the hallway. A pair of feet bustled past the entrance to his room and toward the door that hid the service stairs, which the castle servants sometimes left open. A bird squawked somewhere in the night sky.

  Braeden sighed and rubbed his eyes. Soon—too soon—he would be breaking into the Stele to take it from his father. He would face the man who terrified him for decades and end him or die trying. Either way, his struggle with his father would be over within a week.

  In only seven days, his world would change—all of Ourea would change, for that matter. It would either see a tyrant’s final ascent to power, or it would see a new age of peace as the yakona kingdoms united for the first time in eons.

  He rolled over and buried his face in a pillow. His shoulders tensed at the thought of climbing into the Stele, of murdering his own people to kill their Blood. If he survived, he would have to find some way to make it right to those the dead left behind.

  No—he couldn’t think like in such a way. He wouldn’t die. He couldn’t leave Kara. He couldn’t surrender his people to an evil man. Death wasn’t an option.

  He closed his eyes and let exhaustion pull him under. As the tension in his shoulders eased, he wrapped an arm around Kara’s pillow and pulled it close.

  Chapter 8

  The Guild

  Kara took a deep breath and surveyed the half-empty arena seats. Hundreds of isen watched her, all eyes narrowed in some fashion.

  Stone frowned. “Well, go on, girl. Tell them why you’re here.”

  She nodded. Her lips parted, but her voice died in her throat. She couldn’t summon words. Panic erupted in her chest. Sweat lined her palms, so she wiped her hands on her pants. Her gaze moved along the sea of faces, their stares weighing on her shoulders. Her breaths slowed, shallow and almost not enough to keep her standing, much less fuel her voice. A tickle raced up her neck, the warning bell for unwanted attention from behind. She glanced back, eyes moving unconsciously to a man with brown hair in the front row. He grinned, eyes dancing with desire and malice.

  She was here to recruit them, yet they looked at her like wolves circling a wounded animal.

  She clenched her fists and took one more deep breath. Now or never.

  “I’m here to offer you a bargain,” she started.

  She all but cringed. What a stupid opening.

  Oh, well. Keep going.

  “The yakona are at war, and it will end with one final battle. While that’s not your problem, you can benefit from it. If you agree to be a part of that battle, to join in the fight with the allied kingdoms and end this war, you will be granted amnesty in the yakona kingdoms. You may visit freely and openly, and you will not be killed on sight. You may not steal souls while in a yakona kingdom, but if you are accused of breaking this agreement, you will be tried fairly.”

  She arched her back and examined the expressions in the room. Nothing had changed—still the same sneers and disgust. She cleared her throat.

  “This will be your one and only chance for such an opportunity. You will never again be offered free reign of Ourea like this. I recommend you not let the opportunity pass you by. Who’s with me?”

  A few isen chuckled, presumably in answer to her question, but most leaned back in their seats or bent to whisper to a neighbor. A hum of voices filled the room, all hushed. Kara tightened her hands into fists, waiting for that first follower who would show the rest they were not alone in wanting to join her.

  The hum settled, but no one stood. She swallowed hard.

  “This is your only—”

  “It is tempting,” a man interrupted. He stood from his chair by the aisle, his broad shoulders almost taking up the empty seat beside him. The isen around him watched his every move. His dark hair curled around his face, the hard lines in his jaw and cheeks casting shadows over his pale skin. Wrinkles lined his eyes, though she couldn’t tell if it was from age or squinting at her. He walked along the aisle, toward the steps that led to the arena floor. She waited for him to continue.

  He glanced to Stone and smiled. “I didn’t think I would see you again, old man.”

  Stone nodded. “Hello, Andor.”

  Andor turned to Kara, his smile dissolving. “While I’m curious about you and your offer, you are not the first to ask for our help in this feud.”

  A pang of dread rocked Kara’s core.

  “Who beat me?” she asked.

  “An isen named Deidre.”

  Kara grimaced.

  Andor laughed. “I take it you know her.”

  “We’ve met.”

  Andor stepped into the arena. “She’s formidable. Most of the isen elders went with her.”

  Stone huffed. Kara could imagine what he would say if they were alone. Told you.

  “When did she come?” Kara asked.

  “A week ago.”

  The guilt faded into a thin stream of relief. Even if they’d left when Stone wanted to, they wouldn’t have made it in time. Her delay hadn’t cost them recruits.

  Andor gestured to the arena seats. “I can’t speak for the others, but my children and I didn’t join her because we don’t trust her. Why should we trust you?”

  “Because I’m both an isen and the Vagabond. I represent both you and the yakona. I want the fighting to end.”

  He shook his head. “There will always be those who fight.”

  “Let them be the minority, then.”

  A smile twitched along the corners of his mouth. “And why are you worth following? How will you defeat both Deidre and that Stelian Blood?”

  She hesitated, doing her best to formulate her words without revealing their attack plan. “I united four warring kingdoms. The Heir to the Stele has planned much of this final battle, and—”

  “Yes, the famous isen hunter Braeden,” Andor interrupted again. He grimaced.

  “He bonded with me. His hatred for isen is over.”

  The news earned a few gasps. Kara smiled. Good. At least she could surprise these people.

  Andor crossed his arms. “An isen and an isen hunter in love?”

  “We even had a reception in a yakona kingdom, welcomed by the Bloods of Ayavel, Hillside, Kirelm, and Losse. These are different times. Don’t be left behind. I’ve led these troops in training, seen
what they can do—especially when they’re fighting together instead of fighting each other. We’re going to win this war. The question is whether or not you’ll be there to enjoy victory with us.”

  He nodded once in approval. “You’re certainly confident.”

  “So you’ll join us?”

  He shook his head. “We only follow the strong. You must prove yourself, at least to me.”

  Kara glanced over her shoulder to Stone. He kept his gaze on Andor, but ushered her to him with a curl of his finger. She crossed to her mentor and leaned in.

  “This one lives,” Stone said, his voice barely a whisper.

  “But what if he tries to kill me?” she asked.

  “He will.”

  She grunted.

  “He’s an elder with thousands of children—only a sample are represented here today. He’s loyal when he has someone worth believing in. Get him into a position where he admits defeat—mercy when you could kill him—and he will pledge his family to you.”

  She sighed and headed back to the arena floor. The room hushed.

  “It’s strange to see Agneon’s wrist guard on a girl,” Andor said.

  She nodded and resisted the impulse to roll her eyes. A flurry of exhaustion burned through the back of her mind. She wanted to sleep, not fight.

  Let’s get on with this.

  A stream of fire shot toward her head, almost too quickly for her to react. She ducked, leaning backward as the flames billowed by. The heat brushed her face, tingling the hairs in her eyebrows.

  A fist crashed into her chest, knocking her to the floor. Andor appeared through the haze of the dissolving flames, one fist cocked and aimed for her head.

  She rolled. His fist hit the floor. Tiles cracked beneath his knuckles. He cursed and shook out his hand.

  Kara jumped to her feet and summoned the red sparks in her palm. They sizzled, tickling her fingers. She released them, aiming for her opponent. They crackled along his arm, racing to his chest. He yelled and knelt.

  She summoned a blast of electricity into her fingers and aimed for him. He twisted, trying to run, but the blast hit him in the small of his back. He sailed toward the wall and fell, skidding along the ground.