Renegade Skyfarer

by R. J. Metcalf

  Zak reached around Jade to hand Zandra the starting end of the gauze, which she nestled at the lowest point of Jade’s injury. Zak paused. “I, uh, shouldn’t wrap over your shirt.”

  Breathing hurt, sitting upright hurt, being so weak and vulnerable in front of Zak hurt. Jade rested her forehead on Zandra as she sucked in tiny sips of air. “I give up,” she whispered.

  Zandra’s squeezed Jade’s arm. “No, you don’t.” Jade felt Zandra tilt her head back to look at Zak. “Close your eyes.” A moment passed, and Zandra moved slightly. “Try to stay still, I’m going to re-position your shirt.”

  It took a solid two minutes of agony, but Zandra finally got Jade’s ruined shirt peeled off and strategically layered Ben’s bloodied shirt over Jade’s chest. “She’s decent, Zak. Just, wrap her up quick.”

  Jade could hear Zak gulp behind her, and she shivered in response. Never in her wildest of worst nightmares had she ever considered the possibility of being essentially shirtless in a palace hall with blood and rags to cover herself while her oldest friend bandaged her. It didn’t help that her heart stuttered every time his fingers brushed her skin. Let this day be done already.

  She closed her eyes to avoid seeing Zandra blur and spin before her. Drums pounded out a rhythm of pain in Jade’s head as she took in shallow sips of air. Zandra re-positioned the starter bit of gauze and used one hand to wrap the front of Jade until the lowest part of the gash was covered in the soft material. The firm pressure helped to soothe the angry ache in Jade’s skin, and once her chest was covered she sighed softly. At least she felt less exposed now.

  Zandra held Jade up as her strength flagged, and Jade focused on the chore of breathing. Every inhale felt like a thousand knives impaling her lungs, and every exhale left her dizzy. Her mind replayed all the events of the morning, and tears slipped down her cheeks again. She’d run out to fight alongside Krista, ignoring Zak’s warning, and she hadn’t even reached her friend before Ben escorted her inside. At the time, she’d been simmering with impatience to prove that she could hold her own, that she wasn’t some delicate princess who needed protecting.

  And now here she was: she’d chased after someone who deserved justice and retribution. She’d left the safety of her team. And she’d been wounded to the point where she couldn’t move on her own. Humiliation blurred with the burning pain in her chest, and she sniffled as tears splashed onto Zandra’s neck.

  Zandra rubbed Jade’s arm with quiet shushing noises while Zak continued his ministrations. It wasn’t until he smoothed his fingers against her arm that Jade realized how much time had passed.

  “Finished.” Zak pronounced. “Think her shirt will fit over the bandage?”

  Jade twitched her nose as a strand of Zandra’s hair brushed against it.

  “That had been my thought. Let’s try it,” Zandra said.

  This time, it was easier for Jade. Having both Zandra and Zak support her weight while guiding her arms into the sleeves of her blouse helped immensely, and though the shirt was blood-stained in the front and ruined to the point that only the bandages provided modesty, it felt as good as armor.

  Zak braced her arms as he moved around her. “How are you feeling? Dizzy? Cold?”

  “Yes.” Jade smiled her thanks as Zandra wiped Jade’s tears away. “Cold. Seeing double.” She bit her lip. “I can’t decide who I’m more concerned about right now,” she confessed. She stared down the warm amber hall devoid of the palace guard, black-clad Monomi patrolling in their stead. Exhaustion weighed heavy on her, and she fought against the drowsiness. “My father? Briar? Ben and Raine?” Jade trembled as pain radiated from her lungs. “Where’d that swordsman go? What about—”

  Zandra touched a finger to Jade’s lips and shook her head. The steady determination in her eyes soothed some of Jade’s panic. “Don’t borrow trouble. We have Monomi at Ellie’s to help with cleanup and protection.” Her eyebrows knit as she frowned. “And don’t you worry about us breaking the treaty. That’s our choice. As for Briar, I don’t know how he’s doing right now, but he is being cared for. The swordsman is nowhere near you, and I’m accepting that as good enough for the moment. Father and Finn will be with Slate soon. He’ll be fine. For now, your job is to rest.”

  “Exactly.” Zak scooted behind Jade and pulled her back from Zandra’s balancing support. He took Jade’s weight fully and held her against his chest. She stiffened, then melted against him. She could feel his heartbeat on her back, and she blinked back fresh tears at the warm feeling of safety that washed over her.

  Zandra squeezed Jade’s knee. “Seriously. Rest.” She rocked to her heels. “I’m going to look for a couch or a bed we can move her to.” Zandra shot Zak a burning look. “You’re dangerously close to the line, brother.” She didn’t wait for him to reply, but turned on her heel and started walking down the hall, pausing to look into each open doorway.

  Absurdly, the thought occurred to Jade that she was being held by Zak—truly, cradled—and she was covered in blood. She could feel that her hair had become a rat’s nest of frizz and sticky knots, and her face was covered in sweat, grime, and tears. She closed her swollen eyes and tried to focus on steady breathing. Dwelling on where her pride had let her down wasn’t going to help the situation any. Why, oh, why did she find this just as stressful as worrying over Briar and Father and the barrier?

  “I can’t lose you.”

  Jade’s heart fluttered at Zak’s whispered words. He brushed his nose against her head, and his arms tightened just enough for her to feel the pressure. She couldn’t see his face, and it frustrated her, but he didn’t move to shift her or anything.

  “This was too close,” he said. She could feel him shake his head. “Far too close. Days like this make me wonder if I should find a safe haven to hide you away in.”

  Jade groaned and closed her eyes against her pounding headache. “No.”

  A strand of hair tickled Jade’s neck from Zak’s whispered sigh. “No matter. Zandra was right. Rest. We’ll wait here for news from Slate and Finn.”

  Distant shouts echoed from down the hall, and two of their Monomi guards left, their boots pounding and clacking on the tile floor. Jade struggled to sit up, and Zak kept the palm of his hand firmly pressed on her good shoulder.

  “Rest.”

  Another yell, and this time several voices replied.

  Panic surged through Jade, then dimmed. Even her body was too exhausted to keep up with the fear and worry. “But—”

  Zak pressed a tense finger against her lips as he leaned forward, his hair hiding his eyes. She could imagine them being narrowed in concentration. He shook his head after several heartbeats passed. “We stay here. Where we’re safe. And you get some sleep.” He flashed her a quick, strained smile as the clamor escalated. “I’ll let you know if something changes.”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Slate

  Every heartbeat thundered in Slate’s ears as his world fell to pieces around him. Shock numbed his legs, and he stood there, struck dumb, trying desperately to understand just how he’d reached this point. How had he failed so spectacularly?

  Victor had killed Zane.

  Victor was the one whom Slate had been searching for.

  Victor and a Void Born now had the bloodstone.

  Victor had been there when Brandon disappeared and was assumed dead.

  Brandon was alive—by some form of miracle or magic, Slate didn’t yet know. His words stuck in his throat as Blade—Brandon—glared at him from the other end of a crimson sword. The hard eyes cut into Slate, eviscerating him without sound or blood. What had happened to his brother-in-law? Where did the soft-hearted, friendly, young, hopeful prince go? The man whom Sapphire had loved so dearly?

  Brandon had killed Jade.

  His own daughter.

  Grief punched a hole in Slate’s chest. Jade may be Brandon and Sapphire’s child, but it was he, Slate, who’d raised her. Cheered on her first steps. Taught her the wonder of sk
yfaring. Encouraged her to love life and live it to the fullest.

  How could such a vibrant ray of hope be gone?

  Was everything Slate ever did in life doomed to fail?

  Slate had done everything he could to find a way to stabilize and save the barrier. And now it was collapsing from his own hand.

  I failed. In everything.

  Red flared iridescent and shot out from the keystone. The curtain of purple rippled, then waves of the magic splashed out toward Slate and Brandon as the ground rumbled.

  Slate stumbled back from the tongue of purple and green and stared, horror twisting his gut. He fell to his knees and shivered despite the sticky heat in the room. If anyone remembered his name after this, it would be to curse him as the one who’d doomed the world.

  “What did you do?” Brandon reached Slate’s side, the tip of his sword poking Slate’s throat. “Reverse it.”

  “I…” Slate tried to swallow and couldn’t. The keystone flared orange. Wisps of pink and blue pulsated in time with the shuddering ground. He blinked and looked down at his hand. “I don’t know if I can.”

  The sword point dug into Slate’s neck, and warmth dribbled down his collarbone. Brandon leaned forward, his blue eyes promising murder. “Try.”

  Slate twitched his head in a tiny nod. “I need to stand.”

  Brandon backed up, his sword still drawn. Now that Slate recognized him, it was easy to match some of the old prince Brandon to this new Blade. They both took small sips of air when upset. Beneath the weathered skin and patchy beard, Slate could make out the tiny scar on Blade’s chin that Sapphire had scratched there during sparring practice.

  What would Sapphire have thought of all this?

  Slate stood shakily. Tears slipped down his cheeks, and he bowed to Brandon. “I formally apologize to the rightful King of Doldra for my actions that resulted in the death of your family and for my actions this day.”

  “Just get on with it,” Brandon growled.

  Slate pulled out the black ring of woven stone he’d borrowed from Zak. The ring Zane had used nearly two decades ago to prevent the barrier from collapsing. He fingered the smooth edge. Zane had been injured at the time, but he gave his life over to the magic. Did Slate need to sacrifice himself, too?

  Memories flitted through his mind: Jade’s laughter, Garnet’s teasing smirk, Samantha’s loving eyes.

  He’d failed Jade. But he could still protect his twin and his wife.

  But would it work a second time? There was only one way to know. He tugged off his gloves and slid the artifact over his finger. Slate pulled his knife out of its sheath and laid the blade across his scarred palm. He took a deep breath, pressed the metal down, and yanked.

  Blood welled up, running over his ring, his fingers, and dripping off his hand. Slate clenched his fist, and pain sent a shudder down his spine.

  I’m sorry, everyone. I failed you, Zane. I love you, Samantha. The barrier blurred into a kaleidoscope of yellow and green as he stepped up to it. Bittersweet peace flooded his heart. In his death, he could be redeemed. What would Jade have thought of all this? Goodbye, Garnet. I’m sorry to leave you alone.

  The barrier pulsated again, and Slate held his bloody hand out toward it. He stepped as close as he dared to the keystone, just out of reach of the barrier’s ripples. “I give my life to defend them.” A wisp of purple flared out and brushed his leg.

  Icy cold flared in his shin. Weakness spread up through his leg, and he locked his knees so he wouldn’t stumble into the barrier. Finish the job. Atone. Slate groaned as his hips started aching. His shoulders hunched of their own accord. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back.

  “I offer all of me,” he whispered as arthritis withered his hands. “My life for all of theirs.”

  Blackness swallowed Slate.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Ben

  Ben gasped for air, and his legs wobbled as he ran after Raine into the citadel tower. Despite being in excellent physical condition, he’d clearly lost some of his endurance after several days recuperating from Jaxton’s murder. Too focused on watching his feet, he smacked into Raine’s back, and they both stumbled.

  He grimaced. “Sorry, I—” Ben looked up from Raine, and his words died in his mouth. Bodies littered the keystone chamber. Three of them. The blond swordsman from Vodan knelt next to an old man crumpled close to the keystone. A breeze blew across the room from a shattered stained glass window.

  He killed Jaxton. He hurt Jade—nearly killed her. Ben pushed himself off of Raine and grabbed his borrowed sword. She scrambled up with a grunt, gripping her sword while he bit back on his anger to focus on the mission at hand. Protect the world first. Revenge second.

  The barrier itself shone a crimson purple, and it wavered sedately, like a rodless curtain in a room. Orange spiked from the black stone on a pedestal, and a ripple shot out from the center, but other than that, all appeared peaceful. Too peaceful.

  “Where’s the captain?” Ben stepped cautiously around the blood puddles to look at the first man. Overseer Nevin’s glassy eyes stared at the ceiling, crimson staining his chest.

  Raine approached a body on her side of the room, her sword staying between her and the swordsman. She shook her head. “Not this one.” They both looked at where the swordsman knelt, his head bowed.

  “He’s here.” The voice sounded so quiet, so broken, that Ben wasn’t sure he really heard the words.

  “Excuse me?” Raine asked as she approached the gray-haired dead man and the kneeling blond.

  Ben shifted his grip on his blade as he approached the swordsman’s side. His crimson sword lay on the floor just a stretch of the arm away. Ben toed it and kicked it farther from the blond.

  The man watched his sword slide out of reach, then sighed shakily and rolled the frail man over. Raine gasped, and Ben gawked.

  It was Captain Slate. Aged by several decades, but him nonetheless. Leathery wrinkles lined his face, and his arms now looked thin and reedy, with sagging skin instead of the toned, strong muscles that Ben remembered. Slate’s eyes were closed, and his brows were pulled together in a grimace despite the peaceful smile on his lips.

  Ben’s sword slipped in his grasp as he stared. “How?”

  The man nodded sideways at the barrier. “It touched him.” He lifted his red-rimmed blue eyes to look at Ben. “The girl that had been with you. Is she—”

  “She may yet live,” Raine interrupted with a snarl. She stalked forward and held the edge of her blade to the man’s throat. “No thanks to you, scum.”

  Please, let her live. Ben’s shoulders sagged as he glanced at her father’s body. How would he break the news to her?

  A clatter in the hallway announced the arrival of Finn, Zak’s father, and two black-clad Monomi, whom Ben didn’t know. Color faded from Finn’s face when he looked down at Slate’s body. He shook his head, took a deep breath, then muttered and moved closer to inspect the barrier. His fisted hands trembled. Zak’s father strode between Raine and Ben and stopped abruptly when the swordsman raised his face.

  “Who are you?” Zak’s father’s strong voice came out in a pained gasp. His eyes traveled from Slate’s aged body back to the blond.

  The blond lifted his hand slowly. He hunched forward, his spine curving fully as he sighed. “Zebediah…it’s me.” His eyes flicked up, then squeezed shut. “Brandon.”

  Ben watched, feeling as if he was missing some important piece of the puzzle when Zebediah dropped to his knees, staring over Slate’s body at Brandon. The elder Monomi worked his mouth for a moment, before spreading his fingers over his knees and fisting them there.

  “How are you alive? Where have you been?” Zebediah’s eyes narrowed on the crimson blade beyond Brandon. “Is that sword yours?”

  Brandon bowed his head. “It’s mine, yes.” His hoarse voice shook with emotion. “Take me into custody. I tried to kill…my own daughter without knowing who she was.”

  Zebediah rocked bac
k and ran his hand through his hair with an oath. “You’re the one who struck Jade.” He lumbered to his feet and motioned for the other two Monomi who came in with him and Finn. They hauled Brandon up. “We’ll sort this out later, Highness. But no, you didn’t kill her.” He glanced at Finn. “She’s gravely wounded, but she’ll live. For now, we have more pressing business to attend to.”

  Raine joined Finn in his inspection of the barrier. She stood barely a hand’s breadth away from it, whereas Finn stayed farther back, both of them peering through the purple veil. Finn frowned as he studied the keystone, straddling Slate’s feet.

  “Raine, come here.” Finn motioned and pointed toward the rock. “I can’t tell, is there yellow in the center, or orange?”

  Raine leaned over, her face far closer to the wavering energy. “Yellow.”

  Finn carefully stepped back and around Slate’s body. He knelt on one knee next to Slate, lifting one limp hand, then the other. Slate’s hands looked ancient in Finn’s strong grip. “Slate must have prevented it from fully collapsing.” Finn gently tugged a black ring off Slate’s blood-coated hand. He folded the fingers into a fist and rested it over Slate’s breastbone. White hair brushed over Finn’s forehead as he dropped his chin. “Go, rest in peace in Areilia, my son.”

  Finn stood and slipped the ring on his smallest finger, then looked at Ben. “Raine and I will need to stay for a while to finish the restoration of the barrier.” He shot Ben a tired look. “Before you ask, the ‘how’ is something for another day. Please return to the palace and check on Jade’s recovery.” His eyes drooped. “And give her news of her father.”