Rise of the Storm

by Carrie Summers

  “Maybe landslides cut him off from the area.”

  She shrugged. “There will always be possibilities to consider. But both your father and I were forced to face the truth today. Our Shard is gone, and it’s time to move forward. He joined Stormshard to protect you. And now, he’s leaving for the same reason.”

  I swallowed the stone that filled my throat. “It was me,” I said, nearly choking on the words. “Not Joran.”

  “I know, Savra. When I left the collar open, I had little hope you’d figure out a way to escape. What you did was far more clever than I could have devised, and truly, I don’t think there was another way.

  “I’m so sorry. Sorry for you and Papa both. Your Shard was together so long.”

  “I can’t speak for your father, but you need not apologize to me. Better we spend our time learning the limits of your abilities, especially ways to defend yourself. Joran won’t forget this.”

  No, he wouldn’t. I probed the link between us and felt his rage as a black presence. I needed to release my hold before it snapped of its own accord. Focusing my mind, I attempted to project my thoughts like I did when speaking to Lilik and Raav.

  Accusing me of forcing your actions will do you no good, I said. I knew my projection had been successful by the sudden flare of bottomless hatred that battered at my control. No one will believe you. And the moment you try, I’ll just do this to you again. And again. And again. The only way you remain free is to continue as if this never happened.

  I didn’t wait for the inevitable sledgehammer of rage. Instead, I snapped the link.

  “I could hear you, you know,” Falla said, a brow raised in amusement. “Mind domain, Sensing aspect.”

  A blush heated my cheeks.

  “No, don’t be embarrassed. You did well. Though it’s strange…” She shook her head as if to dispel a thought before gesturing down the trail. My father had noticed us and had taken a seat on a low boulder to wait. “Let’s go. He needs you.”

  ***

  A bonfire roared in one of the courtyards outside the keep, flames leaping far over the heads of the Sharders surrounding the blaze. Sparks curled higher still, swirling up to rival the stars. Around the vale, the high peaks cut the cold night sky like knives.

  I sat on a stone beside my father while Stormsharders laughed and ate around the fire. At least four blazes of similar size lit other areas of the grounds, creating enough light and warmth that anyone who wanted could find companionship and conversation. Soon, the army would break camp, and any crate or barrel we wouldn’t need for the march on Jaliss had been piled on the fires. Snatches of song peppered the air, usually followed by laughter over their tunelessness. I doubted there were ten sober men or women among the hundreds.

  Neither my father nor I had taken a single swallow.

  My chest ached as another breath pulled scents of smoke and sizzling meats through my nose. I glanced at my father. Despite my betrayal and his coming departure, a faint smile touched his lips as he watched another man attempt to juggle a pair of sheathed daggers.

  “I recommend another year or two before you try that with bare blades,” my father said as the man fumbled on the fifth toss.

  The man responded with a hearty laugh. “And half as many swallows of liquor before the attempt,” he said, twirling one of the daggers between his fingers.

  Faces lit by the fire’s glow, more Sharders laughed at the banter. Those who sat had their legs stretched straight, heels planted on the cracked stones of the courtyard. A few seats away from my father and me, a husband and wife leaned their shoulders together. His hand rested on her knee. Despite the battle today, none of the rebels sat with the beaten slump I’d seen in Prov shoulders from Cosmal to Jaliss. These fires and the shared food served as both a wake for their fallen friends and a celebration of the victory and battles to come.

  When I could forget, even for a breath or two, the terrible thing I’d done to my father, I tried to imagine myself fully committed to their cause. Freedom for all Provs. We deserved it. No commoner should live and die slaved to a Function they didn’t choose. But how could I give myself to Stormshard when I didn’t believe the war was necessary?

  When the would-be juggler moved off, my father sat forward with elbows planted on his knees. He stared into the fire, fingers loosely clasped.

  “I need to tell you something, Papa,” I said quietly. With the roar of the blaze before us, no one could hear a soft conversation.

  “Falla already told me.” Twisting on the stone bench, he locked eyes with mine. “You did the right thing.”

  I shook my head. “There had to be a better way. It just happened so fast.”

  Father laid a hand on my shoulder. “I won’t say it doesn’t hurt. But to tell the truth, I was ready to put down the burden. I made a promise to you that I intend to keep. I planned to wait until after our bid for Steelhold, but I don’t see any reason to delay now. There’s been no news of your mother and sister.”

  “You’re going to Cosmal,” I said.

  He shrugged. “It seems like the best choice.”

  “I can’t stand to think of what I took from you,” I said.

  “It’s okay, Savra, really. I’d have made the same choice if given the opportunity. Stormshard doesn’t need me anymore. And I learned today that I don’t need Stormshard, either.”

  My gaze found the fire. I wanted to believe him, but couldn’t rid myself of the feeling that I’d stolen something precious from him.

  He picked up a woodchip and tossed it into the blaze. “I’m going to leave when the moon rises.”

  My head snapped to look at him. “I thought you planned to go in the morning.” Even then, it had seemed far too soon. I’d spent so many years wondering what had happened to him and wishing for his return. Now that we’d been reunited, I was losing him all over again.

  “I plan to cross the high passes even if the others don’t feel it’s the best course. Night and early morning are the safest time to be on the snow slopes this time of year. Later in the day, the snow softens too much. It can give way.”

  Gripping my knees, I stared at the fire and forced away tears. “Will you be safe?”

  “As safe as you will be, I’m sure. Times are treacherous, Savra. But I’ve spent years in these mountains. As for you, both Sirez and Falla have promised to defend you with their lives. It’s the best we can hope for.”

  “When will I see you again? How will we meet back up?”

  He smiled sadly. “After you and Stormshard topple the Empire, our family will be free to live out our days in Numintown, right?”

  I swallowed. Just the thought of all of us together in our simple cottage brought a wave of homesickness so strong I thought I might drown. “And if that doesn’t happen?” I said thickly.

  “Dukket Waystation,” he said. “No matter what happens with the Empire, neither Prov nor Atal can survive without a trading post near the Cosmal Crease. If either of us can’t get home, we’ll send word to a friend of mine who keeps the stable there.”

  I couldn’t help smiling at the memory. “I met him, believe it or not. Teppo.”

  Father chuckled. “You aren’t kidding, are you?”

  “When I was with Havialo.”

  “Ahh,” he said. “That explains it. Well, regardless, send news of your location to Teppo, and I’ll do the same. We’ll be together again, Savra, I swear it.”

  As he spoke, his eyes rose to a spot above my shoulder. I turned to look, and my heart sank. A glowing sliver of the moon had just crested the ridge.

  “I have to go,” he said quietly.

  “Oh, Papa,” I said as I fell into his hug. I squeezed him tight, the man who’d held me on his knee and taught me to skip rocks on days the Maelstrom was calm. I couldn’t bear to let him go, but somehow, my hands unclasped from his back, and then he was walking away from the fire, a shadow in the night.

  Gone.

  Chapter
Fifteen

  Kostan

  A meeting chamber, Ministry Hall, Steelhold

  THE MARBLE WALLS of Ministry Hall’s meeting chamber threw back the sounds of my footsteps as I entered. As I traversed the room to my seat at the head of the long, mahogany table, a dozen pairs of eyes tracked me. No one spoke.

  Along one side of the table, the remaining ministers sat with spines stiff. Their faces were flat, their gazes distant. To an outsider, they might appear lost in thought, but I recognized the dull-eyed expressions worn by protectors across the Empire. Their minds were enslaved. Apparently, Argentmaster Yevinish’s efforts had succeeded. I noticed the glint of Maelstrom-silver beneath Minister Giller’s right sleeve.

  Catching the argentmaster’s eye, I nodded approval. As he returned the gesture, I watched his face for signs of deceit, but either there were none, or he was too skilled to allow emotions onto his face.

  Argentmaster Yevinish and the highest ranking ferro mage, a man who’d served for years beneath Ferromaster Ilishian, occupied seats opposite the ministers while the Aurum Trinity stood against the back wall. When I reached my chair and acknowledged them, the Trinity bowed in a quiet rustle of silk. I gestured to the seats nearest them, but the three aurum mages shook their heads.

  “We stand to sharpen our bodies,” they said together.

  I had no such compunction. After a restless night and the morning spent stewing over the terrible events from our rescue along with the troubling situation with the Prov boy, I was exhausted. My chair’s legs hissed over the marble tiles as I pulled it out and sat between Vaness and the Prime Protector.

  Completing the list of attendees, the palace seneschal sat at the far end of the table picking at his cuticles. The chief astrologer had arrived from the city. A handful of pages and messengers were arrayed near the door while the new palace scribe stood at a podium along the wall. A glance at his uniform brought memories of Savra, but I forced them away. No matter how badly I wished to speak more with the false wine merchant, this meeting was far more important. My Empire was crumbling before my eyes, but today we would begin to plaster over the cracks.

  When I inhaled, everyone at the table froze. All eyes were on me. I turned to Vaness.

  “I’m glad you’re safe,” I said. “And I hope you accept my deepest regrets that the assignment I gave you led to yesterday’s events.”

  Though faint circles darkened the area beneath her eyes, my friend appeared otherwise unharmed. She raised a hand as if to lay it on my forearm, but then appeared to reconsider. Probably wise. I needed to project nothing but strength to both my advisers and subjects. I might not feel like an emperor inside, but none of these people could know that.

  “The errors were mine, your eminence,” she responded.

  “A subject ripe for debate. Regardless, your courage is appreciated, Liaison. Now…” I turned to the rest of the group. “We must discuss last night’s events and our larger strategy for halting the rioting in the city. Foremost, the revolutionary Prov element must be contained and smothered. Prime, I’d like to hear your recommendations.”

  The Prime stood, her face absent the gloating a pettier woman would have shown. From the first hours of my rule, she’d pressed for rigid enforcement of curfews and swift, decisive punishment for those Provs who failed to heed the commands. She’d been right while I’d been terribly, terribly wrong. Even yesterday evening, as my forces had assembled at the Sun Gate, I’d imagined a peaceful march through the city. A show of strength but not force.

  I could forgive myself for making errors; I’d known I had much to learn when I Ascended. But my mistakes had caused bloodshed. I wouldn’t be so arrogant as to ignore advice again.

  The Prime Protector laid hands on the table and leaned forward. “If I may, your eminence, there are two pieces of new information I’d like to share first.”

  I nodded. “Of course.”

  “The first concerns the apparent poison in the arrows. I understand that you have visited the Prov boy and learned of his condition.” She waited for my nod before continuing. “I’ve just returned from an inspection in the barracks. There were five soldiers injured by arrows last night—that is, five aside from the unfortunate protectors who were slain in the streets. We’re organizing a small, elite force to retrieve their bodies this afternoon. With your permission of course.”

  “Granted. Bring them back and please summon the families so that they may pay their respects.”

  Following my words, Argentmaster Yevinish shifted in his seat. His expression remained flat. “Your eminence must have forgotten. When a protector takes the vow to serve the Empire—”

  “He hasn’t forgotten,” the Prime said. “We spoke of the change already. Heretofore, Emperor Kostan wishes that protectors’ familial bonds be preserved rather than severed. A protector is bound to serve the Empire faithfully as long as their body allows. Afterward, they are to be released from their… vow.” As she spoke, she glanced at the wrist cuffs now decorating the ministers. “I sent a page to inform you of the change so that you might prepare.”

  The argentmaster stared at her, a glare so withering I fought the urge to flinch. No page had been sent to carry the message because the Prime and I had not spoken of this. Most likely, the argentmaster knew the woman was bluffing to cover my ignorance in suggesting we inform the families of the deaths. But he would not accuse her. I needed to remember to thank her later—and to ask what the prior custom had been regarding protectors released from their duties. Or maybe I didn’t want to know.

  “As I was saying,” the Prime continued. “Five men were struck by arrows and survived. Three were pierced on the arms and shoulders, one in the leg, and one was scratched by the fletching on an arrow that narrowly missed her neck. The last injury was healed by the aurums already, and the protector has resumed her duty atop the walls. The others…” Her brow furrowed as she sorted her next words. “Though none of the wounds was life-threatening, even after the expert ministrations of the aurums, the soldiers appear listless.”

  I turned to the Trinity. “I wasn’t informed of this when I visited the boy.”

  The elder of the two women spoke for the group. “We weren’t aware of any ill effects until now, your eminence.”

  “I’ve only just noticed it myself,” the Prime said. “It’s a subtle shift, your eminence. Nonetheless, I recommend we move them to a separate barracks where the aurums will have free access to deliver examinations.”

  When I raised a questioning brow to the Trinity, they nodded. “Perhaps we will gain insight into what ails the boy as well.”

  Something in the situation caused unease to stir in my belly. “See that they’re guarded,” I said.

  “What is your fear?” the Prime asked.

  “I’m not certain. But until we understand the nature of this toxin, I believe we should use caution.”

  “A wise choice. It will be done. Now, as to the other piece of information: we’ve had a number of reports from our friends in the Heights. Apparently, the elite families have been bombarded with paper-wrapped stones in the last hours.”

  I cocked my head. “Explain, please.”

  “Tossed over their walls from neighboring districts. The papers are covered with Prov demands for food and trade goods. The elite are demanding we move more forces in to defend the district.”

  I sighed. “From a few rocks?”

  “They fear for their safety. If the Provs grow bolder, they might scale the wall between districts.”

  “We’ve already committed double the usual guard detail to the entrances to the Heights and added patrols to the Merchant’s Quarter. Perhaps we could station a few more along the top of the boundary wall, but otherwise, we’re stretched thin.”

  “I doubt that will be enough to reassure them.”

  “Do you have a suggestion?”

  “Your eminence,” one of the ministers said. She swiveled her gaze to me as she spoke, th
e first eye contact I’d received from among the ministers.

  “Yes, Minister Pranvill?” I said, dredging her name from my memory.

  “We could house the elite families within Steelhold.”

  I felt the disgusted twitch of my lip before I managed to fix my face in its flat mask. How would it look to the Provs when I invited the Atal elite to shelter within Steelhold’s walls? Especially considering the need to do something more drastic about the rioters. Then again, I’d already decided to rally the Atal as a first step to stabilizing my rule.

  “I’ll take your suggestion under advisement.”

  “With respect, your eminence, you need to do more than that.” Minister Giller, the man I’d most recently questioned, laid his palms flat on the table. “If you lose the elites, the merchant class will follow. You can’t rule without the Atal. They are the Empire’s prized citizens. Even if the Provs were docile, you must keep Atal loyalty. They are the superior race.”

  Anger flashed through me at his prejudice. Aside from our ancestral birthplaces, there were no differences between Atal and Prov. Beneath the table, Vaness laid a restraining hand on my knee.

  “I will not tolerate such statements,” I said. “The only advantage Atal have over the Provs is their wealth and the status granted to them by this throne. A status that I’m no longer inclined to convey.”

  I expected an angry rebuttal or sudden submission, but Minister Giller offered neither. Instead, he maintained his direct gaze. “I am bound to speak only the truth to you, my liege. And I speak with honesty when I say the Atal are better people.”

  “And you?” I asked, turning my gaze to Minister Pranvill beside him.

  “Minister Giller speaks truly. The elite are the finest citizens in the Empire. Their abilities are bred into them. This is why the Provs must be guided by the throne’s hand.”

  I struggled to swallow. All along, I’d known these attitudes prevailed among the Atal, but down inside, I’d hoped—believed, even—that most people recognized the truth. No person born in the Empire was better than another. The divide between Atal and Prov was created by greed and a hunger for power amongst the Atal conquerors. Yet these ministers, when forced by magic to speak what they believed to be true, proved how deep the prejudice ran.