by J. M. Miller
I extended my sword, leveling it with his chest, and moved even closer. “Why are you here?”
His lips pressed together as if he were considering a response. He kept his sword arm low, angling it slightly downward. With a small twist of his hand, the blade glinted and its smooth curve caught my eye, so unlike the straight one I had pointed toward him.
“Answer me!” I demanded, taking another step forward, placing myself within striking distance.
“You,” he began, his tone rough, pained. “You have to tell me who you are. What you are.” He lifted his other gloved hand and touched his cheek tentatively, as though it were tender.
“I am Vala of the Guard, and if you do not tell me who you are, I will take your head.” I forced the words out. The thought of taking his life, never getting the answers to the questions burning within, hurt in an unimaginable way.
“I came for him, yes,” he finally said. I pulled back my arm, settling into a striking position, and he quickly added, “For information first. I dragged him away to ensure his survival from the assassins. If I had intended to kill him, I would have done it immediately. I had more than enough time.”
I released an even breath, feeling the guilt of the truth we both knew. He’d had plenty of time at the lake. I hadn’t been fast enough to save the prince, and he knew it. “Who sent you?”
“That, I cannot answer,” he replied in a more relaxed tone. His shoulders pushed back and his chest lifted as his body straightened. “But I can tell you why.”
“Why then?” I urged, wanting any information he was willing to give.
He inhaled deeply and stretched his limbs then worked his empty hand open and closed. “The visiting queen and princess look to be deciding the future of their kingdom and yours. But what if I told you the queen could have other reasons for being here, something she isn’t divulging.”
“Why would that concern me?”
“You protect your prince, this island. I’d say it would very much concern you.”
“And why should I believe you?” Islain could very well dismantle Garlin whether or not the princess chose Caulden as her consort. The idea that the queen had other plans seemed absurd. What could be worse than that? “What’s your reason for telling me this information?”
He shrugged in an easy, comfortable way. “Because this island, these people, may not be the only ones affected should the queen find the information she seeks.”
“Is this some form of rival trickery? Do you work for one of Islain’s lords? One who would like nothing more than to see Prince Caulden dead so they can sit upon the throne themselves?”
“No. If I were like them, commanded by them, surely I wouldn’t be here with you right now. Their intentions were made very clear, and you know as well as I that those intentions didn’t involve talking.”
True. Though, I wouldn’t admit that to him. How could I trust what he was saying to be accurate without knowing him or his purpose? “What are your intentions then? What is it that you want to know? Is it the same information that the queen is seeking?”
“Possibly. But when I came across you … let’s just say things have changed.”
A sense of foreboding riddled into my bones, a cautious warning I couldn’t ignore. We had an obvious resemblance that neither of us had yet to admit aloud, and the easy talk between us could have been because of it. But what if all of it was a lie? He had been sent by someone. Was he just waiting for me to feed him something useful? Would I have the information he was searching for?
I glared at him as his words drifted away, putting myself in check. “You now know who I am, so tell me your name. If what you say is true, you can at least tell me that.”
“At least? I think I’ve given you more than I even should,” he said, glaring right back. “In fact, I think you owe me something.”
I stiffened, tightening my fingers around the grip of my sword, preparing to defend myself with the change in conversation.
“Who are you, really? And how did you come to live here?” His face turned in either direction, surveying what could be seen through the fog rolling in off the water, his upper lip pulling away from his teeth in disgust.
“I am from here,” I replied, instantly regretting my hasty response.
“I know for a fact you are not, so quit lying.”
“And how is it that you know? Where are you from? Why do you have skin like mine?” There it was, out in the open, the question I’d been wanting to ask since I’d first seen his face in the cavern.
“So you aren’t lying.” His eyes flashed and his head tilted, observing me. “Interesting. You truly believe that with skin like yours you are from here? Do you know nothing beyond this island?”
I seethed, letting the anger roll from me through heavy breaths. “I know enough.”
“Apparently, less than you think,” he replied and had the nerve to lift the corner of his lips in a pleased smirk that set my soul blazing with more fury than I’d felt in a long time.
The frustration and pain of the day twisted together, building into something dangerous inside. I ignored the calm, controlled voice to which I had listened all through my years on the Guard and swung my blade at him. I held no care if he died. He’d given me enough information, whether I chose to use it or not. I wouldn’t now, however, be fooled by appearances of likeness, or of sweet acting princesses, or of queens filled with arrogance and greed. I’d trust no one, especially if I were to accompany the prince to Islain, save those I’d known for many years.
His blade lifted, smacked mine away, and swung back around to counter. I dove into a forward roll, dodging his movements then turning with another thrust of my blade. He laughed out a breath as he stepped out of the path of my swing, the sound of it pounding my ears worse than the blood pumping through my veins.
“You are skilled, Vala,” he said, lunging at me. I ducked to the side, hearing his blade slice the air. Close. Too close. “I’d like to think you could do better with a different kind of blade.”
He was skilled too, far more than anyone I’d ever encountered. Even the captain. That feeling of disquiet returned, splintering through me like a quake on the verge of destruction. He doubted my life on Garlin, certain I was not from the island. His words were taking hold, filling me with so much doubt I could barely think. I wanted to end him for taunting me, for digging under the skin that had punished me since birth, for holding my lack of knowledge captive.
“Don’t assume to know me, to know my strengths or weaknesses.” My voice boomed through the chilling air, the noise of the night having all but disappeared as I advanced on him again, swing after swing after thrust of the blade. I waited for him to duck and counter then I kicked off the edge of the stone wall and turned, gaining enough height to crash my boot into his shoulder, shoving him backward into the open road. The water behind him in the distance was barely visible through the mass of nightly fog, the light of the cove’s towers shining strong enough to see the smooth, reflective surface.
“I’m only interpreting what is plain to see,” he replied, shaking off my blow and bounding toward me.
“Vala!” Haidee’s voice called out from somewhere close, stealing my attention away for a swift moment.
But even I knew one moment was more than enough time to change lives, to end them. A fatal mistake. When my focus returned to him, the end of his blade was almost to my chest. His eyes widened, flitting with a look of disbelief or regret. I had no time to turn, no time to block, only time to watch the blade as I thought of Saireen’s peaceful eyes. It felt like my end. The next moment came fast, a flick of his wrist in time to shift the point of the sword away from my chest and across my arm, the sharp steel biting in as he withdrew.
I wailed at the sudden pain before guarding myself properly, sword at the ready again even though I’d seen the change, knew he’d decided not to take my life.
He relaxed his sword, the blade falling limply to his side as his shoulder rounded wi
th a heavy exhale. His eyes met mine again before he retreated backward a few paces.
I wanted to yell at him, to tell him not to leave. His actions had only left me confused. I needed more information, more time.
“My name,” he said, as if reading my expression, my mind, “is Xavyn. Don’t forget what I told you. Stay alert, Vala.”
“I—”
“Vala!” Haidee’s voice called from behind me, the thudding of her horse’s hooves echoing between the building walls.
“I’m here.” I turned back, watching her ease her horse past the piebald mare then travel down the alley toward me. I slid a hand over the wound at my arm and turned back to where Xavyn had been, only to see the swirling fog in his wake.
“Are you okay? Did he get away?” She jumped from her horse beside me. “You’re injured.”
“It’s not bad,” I said, shrugging off her attempt at an inspection. “My skin is already healing around it.”
She was quiet for a moment, staring at me while I stared after the man who could have taken my life. “Caulden sent me back. He was … concerned. I volunteered to come find you to make sure he wouldn’t return himself.”
“Good,” I said with a nod. It would have been much worse if everyone had seen who I was up against. But I knew the real problem with that statement, the problem with how Caulden had been behaving all day—he was more worried about me than he was about himself. I could hear in Haidee’s voice that she was bothered by his reactions too. Had I become his liability instead of his protector?
“Were you able to get a better look at him this time?” The statement held no judgment, only determination and the drive to end a threat. Our duty.
“Yes,” I replied, considering all that I’d learned in one day. “Maybe too good of one.”
TEN
After returning to the chateau with Haidee to inform Caulden that I was still breathing, I was released by the captain to go rest with the order that I return in the morning to give the details involving the altercation as well as face punishment for joining in on the evening when I was not given the order to do so. The rest of the night I spent sewing the tear in my cloak and shirt where Xavyn’s blade had sliced into my flesh. I was lucky, though. I might not have been breathing had he held the blade’s intended course to pierce my heart.
Xavyn wasn’t an ordinary fighter. There was something else about him that was different, something more than the obvious likeness to my skin. At first—like at the lake—he had appeared to be in pain. But there was no real indication of injury aside from his stiff movements and distressed noises. As skilled as he was, injuring himself when he’d first tackled me to the ground was unlikely. And the longer we had engaged, the evidence of any injury seemed to disappear. He was composed toward the end, relaxed. I’d go so far as to say comfortable, infuriatingly so, telling me that I’d do better with a different blade. Was he trying to crawl into my head even more than he already had?
I was late to rise the following morning, my body sore from the exertion of the fight and my mind exhausted from hours of contemplation. The chateau was bustling with activity when I arrived. Several farmers had pulled their carts for their weekly deliveries of produce, meats, and wine. With all the people milling about, they barely noticed me, which was a blessing since I didn’t care to receive the usual gawks and stares. Breakfast had to have been served already, leaving the dining hall empty and the smell of fresh biscuits and eggs lingering in the warming morning air.
Any chance of having a few more moments of peace before the interrogations began were doused as soon as I knocked upon Prince Caulden’s door and was greeted with a firm welcoming grunt from Captain Baun.
“So good of you to join us,” he said gruffly, backing away from the door to let me in. “I suppose tacking on a small infraction of tardiness is nothing when you completely disregard orders to stay home.”
I scanned the room, meeting Haidee’s tranquil gaze from her position outside what was once my bedroom door—now her bedroom door. Leint’s head of rust-colored hair didn’t even turn from his position, peering out the window while Caulden lounged in one of the sitting chairs in front of the fireplace.
“I apologize for being late,” I admitted, standing straighter. No matter what was to be discussed, it was better to start off on a good note.
“I think we have a bigger problem to focus on than Vala being late or my choice to have her on detail last night, Captain,” Caulden spoke, tossing a book to the table as he stood. “I for one am glad she was there. Who knows what would have happened had she not been.”
“Your Highness,” Captain Baun acknowledged the prince’s statement. “While I agree that Vala’s skills are of good use, the queen wasn’t very happy to hear that she disobeyed—”
“Enough about my mother, Captain. I trust her judgment, but not when it applies to my own Guard. I decided to have Vala there last night. My team works well together, and I didn’t want anyone missing when the princess was out with me.”
“Understood,” Captain replied with a nod.
“Now, Vala.” Caulden turned toward me with an easy smile on his lips. “Thank you. We’ve never experienced this type of threat and I want you”—he turned to look at Leint and Haidee—“and you both as well, to know that your efforts likely saved the princess and me from something serious. I hadn’t expected so many members of Islain’s court to be so threatened by this potential union. I just hope it all settles down quickly.”
“With respect,” Captain Baun spoke up, adjusting the lower metal plates in his leather chest armor. “I don’t think it will settle. It’s only going to get worse from here, Highness. With your courtship and the queen and princess’ continued visit, we have to assume there will be other attacks, other threats. That is, until some decision has been made.”
The captain’s statement was accurate. Islain’s courtiers would not back off for some time, possibly until they were seated at Caulden and Anja’s wedding. And even then it wasn’t guaranteed. Caulden knew as well as the rest of us. He was just being optimistic, maybe to calm himself about the strife he would have to endure from now on. Even the most serious of Garlin’s internal threats against the throne—those that had even led to deaths and burials from Crypt Cliffs—seemed trivial in comparison.
The prince nodded and looked back at me. “Vala, we’ve already been over the events leading up to the visit from The Shadow last night, to include the odd presence of the raven bird. Please, tell us what transpired after you ordered us away.”
The Shadow. The nickname they’d now adopted after I mentioned his ability to hide so well again last night when they’d attempted to question me immediately. It still suited him but felt weird to think now since I knew his name, but sadly not much more. The things I did know flickered through my mind. Skilled. Smart. Deft. Evasive. Strong. Maddening. Was he not human? Did that make me the same? He’d very well implied as much.
“Vala,” Prince Caulden said, waving a hand in front of my face. “Are you all right? Do you need to sit?”
“No, Highness,” I replied, catching Haidee’s and Leint’s eyes, both staring inquisitively.
“Is your arm still injured?”
Instinctively, I rubbed the place where Xavyn’s sword had sliced my rough skin, feeling the soreness but knowing the skin had already regenerated, sealing the wound. “I’m all right. I was just trying to recall the events.”
“You mentioned his appearance was still shadowed last night,” Captain Baun started in. “After a night’s sleep, is there more that you recall?”
Some. But a dreadful feeling wiggled back inside as I thought of Xavyn’s words. Could I really trust everyone here? They all wanted the best for the prince, for Garlin. I couldn’t say they wanted the same for me. I trusted all of them, had feelings for each of them, even Leint to a degree. But telling them what little I’d learned about Xavyn felt wrong. It could be considered as cowardice, protecting myself from the judgment that would und
oubtedly be placed when they learned that he had the same skin. It would only lead to more questions, questions with answers I couldn’t give. Was it bad that I wanted those answers for myself first? Since Xavyn had insinuated the truth about my being born somewhere else entirely, didn’t I deserve to know if I was somehow connected to him first?
I blinked several times. “He wore a hooded cloak this time. It was so dark and the fog even more dense, concealing most everything beyond arm’s reach. After traveling a few buildings on foot, I chose to chase from horseback, not knowing his intentions and hoping for a better vantage point. He continued on foot, trying to lose me by ducking between several buildings. I got complacent.” I shook my head. “I followed blindly, expecting him to continue on. But when I turned into the last alley, he jumped from a ledge and knocked me from the horse. We both stood quickly, swords drawn.”
“And still you couldn’t see his face?” Captain Baun urged.
“No,” I lied, my eyes drifting to look at the floor. “We fought for a while. I kept on the offensive, pushing him toward the front road, hoping for a better view. But one never came.”
“How did he manage the hit to your arm?” The murmured question was Leint’s.
“He’s had training, and he’s very skilled. I thought more about it last night and realized he had remained on the defensive most of the time while I expended much of my energy. When I heard Haidee call my name, I hesitated for one second, worried that it was a call for help rather than one seeking me out. That’s when he landed his strike.” I wouldn’t dare include what I really knew.
“And he just retreated after … because he knew I was approaching,” Haidee said, the statement filled with so much doubt that it was almost a question.
“Yes. It puzzled me as well.”
“There’s not much to ponder,” Captain Baun said. “His target was already gone. He knew it was far better to leave and fight another day than to face two of our Guards, whom he’d witnessed kill several assassins at the lake.”