Harbinger

by Nicole Conway

  “Jaevid, I can’t begin to express how relieved and happy we are to see you again.” Queen Araxie shifted her weight, her eyes welling with emotion as she looked him over from head to toe.

  Jaevid gave a stiff nod and a quick, thin smile, and then flicked his gaze to her husband, King Jace.

  If Jace scowled any harder, it might’ve singed my eyebrows right off my face. His weathered features were drawn into a deep, relentless frown, his jaw tense and his eyes narrowed slightly. By the look of his attire, which was a more kingly, intricate version of a scout’s leather riding armor, he’d only just gotten back from his visit to Maldobar. He must have departed Barrowton right after Enyo and I had to have made it back here already. I wondered if the disappearance of a certain large tree had something to do with that.

  “Let’s go inside. We can speak in private.” The queen stretched out her hand, gesturing for us to follow. A tired smile deepened the wrinkles around her mouth.

  Young guardsmen dressed in gold and white silk robes pulled the palace doors open so we could enter. Everyone began to move inside—all except for me. Yeah, I was still a prisoner—for now. It was getting harder and harder to resist the urge to do something violent and immature. My wrists were still bound at my back, courtesy of the scout warrior who had discovered us in the jungle.

  Jaevid hesitated, staring at me with an eyebrow arched. “What about him?”

  Everyone else paused as well.

  Queen Araxie’s expression sharpened with a look of parental disappointment. I was well acquainted with that look. “Reigh? You were the one who stole from my stables?”

  “Borrowed,” I corrected. “I brought it back—and him, too, if anyone cares.” I nodded toward Jaevid.

  When all eyes tracked back to Jaevid, he shrugged. “It’s true.”

  “You revived him?” Jace’s expression went steely. “How?”

  “Uh, well, yes. I did. But it was sort of an accident. I didn’t know I could do it. I just, um … ” I tried frantically to think of a way to make it sound like I hadn’t gone there just to destroy the sacred tree out of spite in a childish fit of rage and self-loathing. Not one of my finer moments.

  “I helped him,” Hecate volunteered in a quiet voice. She stood between a pair of royal guards, apart from our group, with her head bowed and hands clasped in front of her. A beautiful gown of shimmering sky-blue satin swept over her petite form, and her long silver hair was pinned into a series of intricate braids. Copper beads and flowers had been wound into it, and there were decorative designs painted on her cheeks and forehead in gold.

  The instant she spoke, Jaevid’s expression changed. His mouth opened slightly as his eyes darted over her form, as though he recognized her somehow. Only … he’d been dead, or asleep depending on who you asked, for forty years. There was no way he could have met her before now.

  “Reigh came to me wanting to know how it might be done,” she spoke quietly. “I told him what to do. He was desperate, and we were both unsure it would work. But I thought he should try. After all, we need Jaevid’s help. We need a miracle, and there wasn’t time to get anyone’s approval.”

  And here I’d assumed Hecate couldn’t bluff. She came off so meek and tentative all the time—I’d just assume skills at deception wouldn’t come naturally to someone like that. It must have been those wide, sightless doe eyes that made her seem so innocent. I’d never been so relieved to be wrong. She was a much better liar than I was. I officially owed her one.

  “Is that true?” Jace shot me a dangerous look with his lip slightly curled.

  I cringed.

  “If that is the case, then we are all in your debt now, Reigh. Release him at once,” Queen Araxie ordered.

  I heard the scout growling angry words under his breath as he obeyed. With my hands suddenly free, I rubbed the sore spots on my wrists where the bonds chaffed my skin. “From the queen’s honored scout to a thief wanted for crimes against the crown in twenty-four hours and now the awakener of demigod war heroes. That has to be a new record.”

  Jaevid arched an eyebrow. “I’m a demigod?”

  I choked. “Uh, well, some people said you were.”

  Come to think of it, I wasn’t sure what to call him. Lapiloque? Lieutenant Broadfeather? Sir Jaevid, Savior of the World?

  “Just ‘Jae’ will do,” he said before I could decide. “They called me that before, I think.”

  “Only your friends did,” King Jace corrected, his demeanor softer. “Though I’m sorry to say most of them are as old as I am now. Haven’t aged as well, either. Gods, your brother, Roland, looks like the back of an old boot.”

  The queen covered her mouth, stifling a laugh.

  “O-Oh.” Jaevid blinked in surprise, like he wasn’t sure if that was a joke he should have gotten or not. The king chuckled and gave him a few gruff pats on the shoulder. It even made Hecate smile a little.

  “Right. Well, then, Reigh, I suppose this makes us friends,” Jaevid said at last as he turned back to me, one hand outstretched as an offer for me to shake.

  I froze as our gazes locked and I searched his pale eyes, looking for any sense that this might be bad idea. Did I want to be friends with this guy? If he really was Jaevid, the chosen one of the god Paligno that presided over all living things, what was he going to do when he found out about my dark passenger? He was the hero. I was the monster. We weren’t meant to be allies … right?

  The longer I waited, the more awkward it became. Jaevid’s brow creased slightly, his head tilting to the side. “Is everything all right?”

  I couldn’t afford to let on. Not now—not in front of everyone. The king and queen had never seen what I could do. They didn’t know the half of what I was capable of. Not even Hecate knew, although she probably had more of an idea about it than most. She was blind, yes, but she could hear things others couldn’t, whispers from somewhere beyond our world or understanding.

  One glance at her and I could see the tension rising in her face. Her lips pressed together tightly, mismatched eyes of blue and green staring earnestly toward the ground at my feet. I saw her give the tiniest of nods, like she was urging me to get on with it.

  Fine. I’d just have to trust her on this.

  “No, uh, just wondering if this means we have to wear matching shirts or something.” I forced a laugh and took Jaevid’s hand to shake it quickly before letting go. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of commitment.”

  King Jace smirked and folded his arms over his chest. “The way things usually go with Jaevid, you might consider adding a big bull’s-eye to the design.”

  The queen snorted and gave her husband an elbow to the ribs. “Come on, then. Forty years without a bite to eat? I can only imagine our guest would like some dinner.”

  The king and queen led the way through the well-guarded doors of the palace and into the cool, marble foyer beyond. There, everything became quieter as the celebration in the city outside died away to a muffled rumble. Jaevid walked close beside me, occasionally stealing glances in my direction as we ventured down the airy halls, passing pillars of alabaster and jade.

  Servants were already spreading out a lavish feast onto the low tables at the far end of the grand throne room when we entered. It was the same place I’d sat and dined with them before, when Aubren and his men from Maldobar had come to ask for help. Just as before, cushions of velvet, silk, and exotic animal hide had been placed around on the floor, so we could sit comfortably.

  My mouth watered at the sight of the food and the delicious fragrance of roasted lamb in a spicy red sauce, fresh vegetables, crisp flat bread baked with sesame oils and rich herbs, sharp spices, and buttery rice. There were bowls of brightly-colored curry dishes and trays of pastes made from candied fruit for spreading over the flaky breads and pastries. My stomach growled and squirmed, and I spotted Jaevid chewing at the inside of his cheek while his gaze slowly panned over the spread.

  As we
sat down, the servants poured everyone goblets of sweet berry wine and cold water. But no one was supposed to eat until the king and queen started eating.

  Somehow, I wound up sitting right next to Jaevid. I was beginning to suspect he was following me on purpose. I guess he’d taken that friendly handshake more seriously than I’d anticipated. He made himself comfortable, taking off his tattered cloak—which had a few big rust-colored stains on it I was almost certain were dried blood. The tunic he wore underneath it had stains, rips, and grime on it, too. Not to mention it was outrageously old-fashioned.

  “Please.” The queen gestured to the feast, her gaze still fixed on him. “Eat as much as you like.”

  I assumed the invitation went for me as well, so I snatched a piece of the flat bread from the nearest platter and started loading it down with helpings of rice, curry, and lamb.

  Jaevid, on the other hand, blinked owlishly as he stared back at the queen. His mouth opened like he was going to speak, but his brow furrowed, and he swallowed hard, looking across the table toward King Jace.

  “I-I’m sorry,” he stammered quietly, his expression going tense as his shoulders hunched and he seemed to withdraw. “Your faces and voices are familiar. I … don’t remember how I know either of you.”

  “What?” King Jace froze where he had been unbuckling the leather breastplate from around his torso. His brow snapped into a scowl. “You don’t remember anything from before?”

  Jaevid shrank back farther, ducking his head lower. “Well, some things are clear, but others are jumbled. I know she was my cousin.” He nodded slightly in Queen Araxie’s direction. “But everything is so … blurred. I can’t sort out what was real and what wasn’t. I remember there was a war. Fighting. So much suffering—” He stopped suddenly as he reached to press a hand against his shoulder. Honest shock drained the color from his face as he probed his fingers at something hidden there under his clothes. Jerking the neck of his tunic to the side revealed a scar, like something leftover from a stab wound.

  “There was a war,” Queen Araxie verified, her voice soft and gentle. “Between Maldobar and Luntharda. We call it the Gray War now. You ended it, Jae. You destroyed the god stone, took its place, and sacrificed yourself to save us. Do you remember that?”

  He stared back at her, brows raised and expression utterly blank.

  The atmosphere around the dinner table was thick with worry. Jace was rubbing his bearded chin and frowning deeply. Hecate sat perfectly still with her head bowed. Even Araxie was studying me and nibbling on her bottom lip.

  “Tell him, then,” I suggested. “Tell him what happened. Maybe it’ll help piece together whatever fragments of memory he does have left.”

  So, they did.

  It took a while. After all, it wasn’t every day a guy went from essentially being a doormat for their abusive, deranged father to becoming a dragonrider and saving the world. Queen Araxie told as much of it as she had witnessed firsthand, but King Jace had to fill in the gaps, especially for the parts that had happened in Maldobar when Jaevid had been a dragonrider. Araxie hadn’t known him then. In fact, the gray elves hadn’t even known Jaevid had existed at all until he’d been shot down in combat at Barrowton.

  I’d heard all these tales before. Kiran had told them to me like bedtimes stories—about how Jaevid had come from an unkind human household. He’d been chosen by a wild dragon and had survived being brutally tortured by the gray elves who’d believed he’d been an assassin sent to kill off what remained of the royal bloodline. Back then, humans and elves hadn’t mixed. Being a halfbreed like Jaevid would have basically made you a social outcast. Halfbreed children were regarded as disgusting mutants—something that never should have existed. Now, obviously, things were different. Still, halfbreeds weren’t common in Luntharda, although I’d seen more than a handful in Barrowton during my visit.

  Once, the tales of Jaevid’s adventures had filled my kid-sized brain with wonder, courage, and the desire to be a hero like that myself. Whenever Enyo and I had acted out those epic battles, I’d always wanted to be him. I’d wanted to be the underdog who rose against the odds and claimed glorious victory.

  But sitting next to Jaevid now, watching his features become creased, tense, and stiff as the story of his life was laid out before him—I started to realize what it must have been like to be there in those moments. I’d been in a real battle now. I’d felt the harrowing pain of loss. He’d walked through that same kind of hellfire to end the Gray War numerous times. And now he was reliving it.

  Little by little, his head bowed lower and lower until he was sitting, his shoulders hunched forward, and his chin nearly on his chest. His shaggy, ash-colored hair fell over his brow to hide most of his face, but I could still see that his mouth was mashed into a tight line as though he were clenching his teeth.

  Then Queen Araxie started bringing him up to speed on our current situation, which wasn’t good. She told him about Prince Aubren, who had come here looking for help to save Maldobar from invasion by the Tibran Empire. Things were bad—worse than they knew, really. I’d seen it firsthand, how the Tibrans fought and what they were capable of. I’d looked into the eyes of our enemy. Maldobar was doomed to fall unless something was done. This was worse than anything Jaevid might have faced in the Gray War.

  But we were all counting on Jaevid to be able to save us—just like he had before.

  When all the storytelling was over, Jaevid sat in complete silence. He didn’t move, although I could see him taking in quick, sparse breaths every so often. His hands curled into fists on the table.

  Too late, I began to wonder if this was too much for him to take in all at once. They were stacking a lot on his head right away. I mean, Gods and Fates, he’d only been awake for a day now. First, rehashing his whole life in excruciating detail, and then explaining to him that he was supposed to be the world’s great savior and battle an enemy he’d never even seen before. If it were me sitting where he was, hearing all of that, I probably would have been ready to throw up and run from the room screaming.

  “Where is Felix?” he asked suddenly, raising his head. “I know that name. I remember him, I think. Something about a promise?”

  No one seemed eager to answer that question. If they’d really been best friends, like the stories said, then it was only natural he’d want to know what had happened to him. And the promise—well, that was bound to come up sooner or later.

  “It was the last thing you ever said to him,” King Jace replied in a quiet voice. “You promised him you would return when he needed you.”

  Jaevid’s gaze flickered in my direction. “And yet you were the one who was able to wake me up? Why?”

  My neck suddenly got hot and itchy. I scratched at it, acutely aware that I was beginning to sweat. “Uh … well … that’s, um … ”

  King Jace leaned across the table, his eyes locking on to me with a look that reminded me a little of being stared down by an angry dragon. “Talk, boy. Now is not the time to be testing my patience.”

  I swallowed hard. “I-I don’t even know if it’s true. Aubren said I would have to ask King Felix directly. He’s the only one who might know.”

  “Know what?” Now the queen was giving me a disapproving glare as well.

  “There’s a chance, a small one, that I might be related to him,” I muttered. “King Felix, that is. I, uh, I might be his son.”

  Queen Araxie froze in her seat, her eyes wide like two opal moons. Next to her, Hecate’s mouth opened slightly. Jaevid frowned, as though he were confused.

  “You don’t say!” King Jace’s booming laugh caught me off guard. He slapped his knee and nudged his wife with his elbow. “Well that explains a lot, don’t you think?”

  I blinked. “It does?”

  “Indeed. I thought I recognized that cockiness and pride.” He went on chuckling. “Not to mention the innate ability to lodge yourself right in the middle of every world-ending disas
ter within a hundred-mile radius.”

  My face was burning as I looked back down at the half-eaten platter of food in front of me. “Yeah, well, I don’t know if it’s really true or not.”

  The queen interrupted with a pensive frown. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Julianna passed away in childbirth. They said her child was lost as well. They buried it with her. We were there, Jace. We saw her in the coffin and the baby, too.”

  “We saw a baby, or a bundle of cloth shaped like one.” Jace shrugged. “So, it was swapped somehow, and Kiran brought him here. That’s not so farfetched, is it?”

  The queen didn’t look convinced. She frowned at me, her eyes still glittering with suspicion. “I suppose we will have to ask Kiran when he returns from Barrowton.”

  Those words hit me like a knee to the gut. A hard knot lodged in my throat, blocking my air and making my eyes tear. I felt hot and cold at the same time, and every muscle in my body jolted with a chill.

  They didn’t know Kiran was dead. They didn’t know I had killed him. How—how could King Jace not know? Hadn’t anyone told him at Barrowton? Why would they keep it a secret? Or … had they not known it yet, either? Kiran was never one to inject himself into royal matters unless someone commanded him to, so it made sense for him to avoid that kind of attention. But surely, by now, they knew he was dead.

  “Felix is still alive?” Jaevid changed the subject.

  “Yes, as far as we know, and still the King of Maldobar. But if things keep progressing this way, he may not hold that title for much longer,” Araxie answered softly. “But the Tibrans are relentless, and we’ve had no news in days now. Kiran left with a small group of our warriors when we heard that Barrowton was expecting an attack. Jace followed with as many reinforcements as we could muster. Based on everything we had heard, it was doubtful the city could withstand an assault. Very few dragonriders had been spotted there—not nearly enough to hold the city.”

  “Our first wave of reinforcements was able to reach the city before the battle was over,” King Jace added. “But not before the Tibrans unleashed some manner of … creature onto the field. It killed as many of their own soldiers as it did Maldobarians. A miscalculation on its destructive force, I can only assume. After that, they began a full retreat.”