by S. M. Boyce
“Does he still hold a grudge against us for becoming vagabonds?”
“I’m not sure. He and Braeden seem to be getting along, and he showed remorse for what he’s done. A while back, he said he forgave me for turning you, but I don’t believe it. His father left him—that had to sting. He may still hold onto that anger.”
Silence settled into the room. A floorboard creaked. Kara peeked through one eye to find Twin leaning her head against the door, eyes closed.
Kara propped herself onto her elbows. “Are you all right?”
Twin smirked. “I’m fine.”
Kara laughed and rolled her eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s not much to say. Before you, I thought Gavin was a champion. A force for good. But since I became a vagabond, I’ve seen his true nature. Parts of it anyway. It’s ugly, and it still hurts a little to be so wrong about someone I admired.”
Twin sighed—a little breath that rolled through the room like a whisper.
“I guess it’s part of growing up,” she said.
“Everything will work out, girl.”
“I know. I’ll leave you be.”
“Enjoy your evening, Twin.”
“You, too.”
“Oh, will you please bring Azo’s mother to the waterfall at midnight so I can take her to the village?” Kara asked.
“I will.”
“Thank you.”
Kara leaned back against the mattress and closed her eyes. Flick purred, the rumble in his chest like the hum of a dozen bees. The door creaked open and shut, the latch clicking back into place as Twin left. Kara’s head sank into the comforter, the plush fabric lulling her toward sleep. Part of her wanted to chase Twin, to see if her friend needed anything. Another part of her wondered what was keeping Braeden. But the last, most insistent part of her didn’t care about anything but lying still.
The mattress dipped to Kara’s left. Her eyes fluttered. She twitched, not wanting to wake up yet.
Her eyes snapped open—sleep? How long had she been asleep?
She twisted and looked out the window. A dark blue sky sucked any light from the room. Silver pinpricks winked at her from between passing patches of clouds.
Kara rubbed her eyes. She’d been asleep for hours, then.
A hand rubbed her back. She flinched and craned her neck to see Braeden lying beside her, head on the comforter as he grinned.
“Have a good nap?” he asked.
She smiled. “I didn’t mean to sleep so long.”
“Looks like you needed it.”
Her mind wandered back to the guild mansion and Stone’s sleep remedy. His comment about her screams at night tugged at her thoughts. “Stone said I scream in my sleep.”
Braeden frowned but didn’t answer.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Have I been keeping you up?”
He rolled onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows. “You don’t scream as much when I hold you. Waking up a few times through the night is a small price to pay to be close.”
Joy rippled through her chest, and she grinned. He wrapped an arm around her and tugged her close. She leaned into him, resting her head under his chin.
“I have a present for you,” she said.
“Yeah?” His voice vibrated in his chest, shooting through her as she nuzzled against him.
“It’s in the village. I’m taking a vagabond volunteer’s family to the village tonight, so I thought you could come with me to get it.”
“What is it?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure it will work, honestly, but I want to try.”
He wove his fingers through hers. “So I have to guess, huh? Let’s see…”
She laughed. “No, I won’t make you guess. Since the bond didn’t work, I want to do something else for you.”
His eyes softened. “It did work, Kara. My lifeline reaches my wrist now.”
“But I didn’t get a lifeline, and we can’t sense each other. It didn’t fully work.”
He frowned. “Life isn’t all or nothing, Kara. There’s an in-between. You’re all I want. That’s what matters to me.”
She smiled. “I want to plant the Sanguini seed Aislynn gave me and make it a symbol of us. She said when you plant it with a drop of blood, it tracks your family. Her trees have a blossom for every Ayavelian, but if we plant our seed together, maybe it will only show our family.”
“So it might instead show every Stelian, since I’ll be Blood someday?”
She shrugged. “Like I said, I don’t know if this will work.”
He smiled and wrapped an arm around her. “It’s worth a try.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“When do we leave?”
“We need to be by the back waterfall at midnight.”
He examined her. “Why?”
“It’s a lichgate out of Ayavel. I don’t want Evelyn to know we’re smuggling out an Ayavelian.”
The door swung open. Kara looked over her shoulder. Stone walked into the room and shut the door behind him.
Kara suppressed a groan. “Do come in.”
“I finished overseeing the isen elders as they marked their children. I want to discuss integrating them into the war before I leave for my errand.”
“What’s this errand you keep talking about?” Braeden asked.
Kara bit her lip. Stone’s errand—making the cave to house the Sartoris. She still didn’t know how to tell Braeden about it, and this certainly wasn’t the time.
“I’ll tell you later,” she said.
Braeden frowned. “You said that once already.”
“Not important,” Stone interrupted.
“Sure it is,” Braeden said.
Stone shook his head. “For now, we need to talk strategy.”
“We’re kind of busy,” Kara muttered.
“This is obviously more important,” Stone said.
Kara shook her head and rubbed her eyes. “You’re obnoxious.”
Braeden rubbed Kara’s back. “You get some sleep. I’ll talk with Stone.”
Kara tensed, debating her options. This was probably safe. If Stone wanted to reveal his errand to Braeden, he would have already explained everything—the man had no tact. She could probably leave them alone together.
She nodded. “Thank you.”
Braeden kissed her forehead and stood. “I’ll wake you up in time to leave.”
“Leave for where?” Stone asked.
“The village. I’ll explain on the way,” Braeden said with a nod to the door.
Stone grumbled and departed. Braeden winked at Kara. She smiled in gratitude and crawled toward the pillows at the head of the bed. She sank into them, a smile still on her face as she once more drifted off to sleep.
Several hours after waking from her second nap, Kara sat on a patch of grass in the village, staring up at her office windows from a moonlit meadow. Azo’s mother lay asleep in one of the mansion’s rooms. She would be alone for part of tomorrow, since Kara and Braeden needed to leave fairly early, but the woman seemed capable. Kara wasn’t concerned. Braeden had gone to look for food while Kara hunted for the Sanguini seed.
She curled her fist around the brown seed in her palm, its oval shell barely the size of an acorn. It had taken seconds to find—it still sat in her desk drawer, where she’d left it. Flick coiled himself on the ground nearby and purred as he slept. Kara stretched, her body cracking a bit with the movement.
A breeze swept through her hair, tickling her neck. She half-expected someone to race out of a house or holler from a window with some emergency, since she rarely got moments of calm or quiet anymore. But no one spoke. Wind rattled the shutters, knocking them against the house’s wooden siding. Not long ago, the village had been bursting with life. Conversations filled every corner of the house. Smoke drifted from the chimneys. People walked around, laughing and joking as they filled her village with life.
But now, the houses sat empty. No one bake
d in the kitchens or practiced sparring in the main courtyard. Kara hadn’t recruited the vagabonds herself, so she didn’t see the village slowly fill with people. She simply walked into the village one day to find it full of life. And now, just as suddenly, it was all gone.
She sighed. She couldn’t let this get to her—the vagabonds would return someday. After all, she’d only sent them away to integrate with the armies in their final attack on the Stele. Everyone would return soon and fill the mansion with life again. She simply hoped she would live long enough to see it.
Kara fiddled with the hem of her shirt. She’d lost in the practice battle against a handful of Ayavelian defense soldiers. Someone had ripped off her vest—the game equivalent of getting a sword through the gut. If she’d failed in practice, how could she succeed in the real thing? This was it—the final battle. It had to be. They were taking everything they had to Carden’s door and kicking it in. The war would end in only a few days, and everyone relied on her and Braeden to see it through.
Grass crunched under the weight of someone’s feet not far off. She glanced up to see Braeden walking toward her, his eyebrows bent in an expression she couldn’t quite dissect—it seemed like a combination of worry and confusion.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“The war,” she admitted.
“I’ve never seen you scowl.”
Kara set the seed on the ground and rubbed her face. “Sorry.”
He sat beside her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“For starters, why were you making that face?” he asked.
She stared at the ground, hesitant to answer. Death. The possibility of death made her scowl like that, but she’d known she could die since Aislynn chained her up as bait for the drenowith. She was the Vagabond—a symbol of peace that faced the very real threat of death from the beginning. Part of her marveled at the fact she’d survived this long.
But her fears sunk deeper than even death—her happily ever after would be tragic. Even if she survived this final fight, she would never know peace, not even with the love of her life. She was so grateful for Braeden, for the love and strength he gave her, but her grandfather’s bloodline cursed her to a life of second-guessing herself. She would always fear killing Braeden like Agneon killed the woman he loved. Kara handicapped herself in an effort to protect those around her and even that didn’t help. She was a mass-murderer at twenty years old.
Beyond the genocide, she lost both her parents. She wouldn’t see them again until she died. They would never see what she’d become, what she would grow into. She would never get to hug either of them again, not in this life at least.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk,” Braeden eventually said.
Kara forced a smile. “Thank you.”
He picked up the seed and grinned, though his eyes shifted away from hers. He was probably putting on a show for her benefit.
“Shall we?” he asked.
She nodded.
He passed her the seed and dug into the earth with his hands, scraping away a small hole in the dirt. Kara set the seed inside and unsheathed her sword. She pressed her finger into the tip until a bubble of red appeared over her skin. A twinge of pain rippled from it.
She gave Braeden the sword and held her hand over the seed. Her blood dripped onto the casing and ran down the side. Braeden pricked his finger on the sword as well and held it beside hers. A few black drops joined her red ones before his finger healed itself. He shook his head and broke the skin again, once more getting only a few drops before his body healed.
Kara pressed her cut into her knee to speed up the clotting. The sting faded.
Braeden pushed the dirt back over the seed and pressed it into the ground. Kara joined him, patting the earth to even out the bumps from the loose soil.
He wove his fingers into hers and smiled. Kara smiled back and tightened her grip.
The soil parted, and a thin green vine broke through the dirt. It reached for the sky, thickening as it grew. It paused once it had about six inches of growth above the soil. The end of the vine split in three, its ends unraveling into thin leaves. The thick base of the vine thickened, now about an inch wide.
“I guess we wait,” Kara said.
“How long does it take to grow?” Braeden asked.
Kara shrugged. “Since we already have a little sapling after a few seconds, my guess is it’ll mature quickly. You should check on it after the battle at the Stele.”
Braeden narrowed his eyes. “We’ll check together.”
Kara cleared her throat. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.”
She wanted to shake herself. She couldn’t think like that—death was a possibility, not a guarantee.
Chapter 11
Volunteers
After a short trip to Ayavel and a quick shower, Kara stood in front of the closed doors to the war room. Her night in the village with Braeden had passed by too quickly—it seemed that she’d only just been lying in bed next to him as the sunrise broke through the master bedroom’s window. She set her hands behind her back as she stared at the closed double doors, wishing she could rewind time.
The empty hallway weighed on her chest, stifling her breath with anticipation. The Bloods stood inside with their generals and Braeden, waiting for her to walk in and reveal their assigned vagabonds. She slouched, staring at the doorknobs. A rush of panic shot to her toes as she wished she didn’t have to send her people in there.
Footsteps echoed along the hall. Six yakona filled the hallway, walking in a cluster toward her. She recognized several faces—Twin, Richard, Elana, Rieve. Her vagabonds. Minly—a Kirelm—and Tier—a Lossian—were already at their respective kingdoms.
Kara took one last slow breath and nodded in welcome. She wouldn’t force a smile. They knew the risks, and she didn’t have to placate anyone. The vagabonds stopped when they reached her, some crossing their arms as they waited, no doubt expecting her to say something.
She wrung her hands behind her back. “I’m grateful for you all. This is dangerous, and life will never again be the same for you. Unfortunately, there’s no turning back now. You were probably already seen by someone close to the Bloods. I hope you’re ready for this.”
Rieve’s eyes widened, but she didn’t speak. Kara waited, meeting each vagabond’s eye for a few seconds. Deep in the pit of her gut, she wished they would all back out. She wished she had no volunteers. She couldn’t guarantee their safety after the fight ended, much less in the battle itself. If they survived the war, they may be ostracized or attacked out of fear. After the torture and betrayal she’d endured since discovering Ourea and becoming its Vagabond, she couldn’t trust the yakona not to treat her people the same way.
When no one spoke, she swallowed hard and nodded. “Does everyone know what they’re supposed to do?”
“Use our grimoires to communicate orders across armies,” Twin answered.
Kara nodded. “Right. What else?”
“Look out for each other,” Rieve said.
Kara nodded again. “No one else will. Those in the battle will get inkwells to hang around your necks and short quills to stick in your grimoires for easy notation.”
“How will Twin get to Hillside before the battle?” Richard asked with a look toward the young woman.
“I’ll take her there with Flick. It should take all of fifteen minutes.”
Richard nodded.
Kara crossed her arms. “I’m terrified for all of you. As the Vagabond, I’ve endured so much. I’ve been spiked, auctioned off, used as bait, hunted like an animal. I’ve seen my father’s soul ripped from his body.” Her voice caught, but she pinched her arm and forced herself to continue.
“I’ve been abandoned, drowned, brought back from the dead, and threatened to within an inch of my life. This is not a charmed existence. We are a threat because we are totally free. We are a rarity, and we are feared despite ever
ything we say and do to prove ourselves. I can’t stand to see you hurt, but you might experience the same hatred I’ve seen since I arrived in Ourea. I don’t know what will happen after we open those doors. My guess is they will welcome you, except for Evelyn.” Kara glanced toward Rieve, who frowned. “But I don’t know what will happen afterward. All I can say is you will never have the life you lived before this. Everything changes the moment they know what you really are.”
The hallway hushed. Twin set her shoulders and lifted her chin in defiance. Several other vagabonds followed suit.
“Gavin already knows about us,” Twin said with a grin.
“It’ll be the first time I’ve seen him since we left Hillside, but I’m ready,” Richard added.
Rieve crossed her arms and smiled, though the creases in her forehead suggested it was forced. “My brother will be in the final fight to watch over me.”
Kara frowned. “I don’t trust Evelyn.”
Rieve nodded. “I know. But she’s in this alliance. She won’t hurt me.”
Kara hesitated. She wasn’t convinced, but at least Zimmermann would be there to look after his sister. He and several other Ayavelian yakona would be in the guard, ready to protect Rieve if something went wrong.
Azo—the other Ayavelian vagabond who volunteered—watched Kara and barely blinked. She met his eye. He simply nodded.
Roj, one of the two Lossian volunteers, set his hands on his hips. “This is my honor, Vagabond. My brother and I are committed to seeing this through.”
“Thank you,” Kara said with a nod.
“It’s my honor as well,” Elana said with a curtsy.
Kara sighed. “I’m afraid for you, Elana. You’ve never seen war.”
“No, but I know Blood Aurora better than most. She is a friend of mine. I’m going as much to watch over her as to be Kirelm’s eyes during the fight.”
“Will she still be your friend when she finds out you’re a vagabond?”
Elana smiled. “Absolutely. The Kirelm people respect you and believe in your purpose.”
Kara’s body tensed. Her mind raced back to her fight with Carden through the Kirelm throne room. They trusted a liar. They worshipped a lie. Her ears rang. Images blurred past—twisted metal, Carden’s wide eyes, the beam of energy tearing through the protective gate around the city. The word murderer rang through her mind.