The Affiliate (Ascension Book 1)

by K. A. Linde

  “About something happening to you?” Ahlvie asked.

  “Yes. Well, it happened down in the tunnels.” Magic. Magic had happened.

  “It?” Maelia asked. “What did?”

  “I don’t know,” Cyrene said. “All I know is…I was the only one down in those tunnels with the Braj, and it was about to kill me when it happened. So, I think…I must have killed it.”

  The next few moments felt like an eternity as Cyrene waited for something, anything—laughter, ridicule, disbelief. At Master Barca’s, she hadn’t heard it when she first told them about the strange things happening to her, but now, she was saying that she had killed a Braj. The more she put it into perspective with her dream of Serafina, it was the only thing that made sense. No one else had been there to save her, and Ahlvie had felt the explosion she produced from her body, so it must have been powerful.

  “Cyrene, I don’t want to doubt you, but you’re sure about this?” Rhea asked.

  “No. Yes. No. I don’t know. I think so. That probably doesn’t help, but what else could explain my wound? I’m still sore and hurting, but it’s healed.”

  “I saw the hole in your side. If it’s healed, then something must have made that happen in a matter of hours,” Ahlvie said.

  “Exactly. I can’t think of another explanation.”

  Ahlvie seemed to mull this over for a second, as if trying it out for size, like she had earlier. “All right.”

  “All right? That’s it?”

  “All right. I believe you. What do we do next?”

  She stared at him in awe. Where had he come from? And why had it taken him this long to get into my life?

  “What do you mean all right, and that’s it?” Maelia asked. “A killer is out to get Cyrene. Don’t you all realize the most important detail we’re missing about Braj?”

  “They never stop coming,” Rhea filled in.

  “That’s right. Maybe you’re not the real mark, but if you are and they’re real, then we need to have a plan to stop them. We need to figure out how they were killed in the first place.” Maelia stood and planted her hands on her hips. “We should alert the Royal Guard and let the King know what happened. You know he would be worried for your safety.”

  “We can’t go to the Guard!” Ahlvie protested.

  “Or the King!” Cyrene cried.

  She remembered all too clearly the Braj talking about the rightful Dremylon heir. She didn’t want to believe that it was Edric, but the only other horrifying alternative was that it was talking about…Kael. And if Kael could control Braj…they were all in trouble.

  Rhea sighed heavily and shook her head. “I assume you have a crazy plan, Cyrene,” she prompted.

  “Yes.” And it was really crazy after the information in her dream. “I need to get to Eleysia.”

  Maelia plopped back into her seat in disbelief. “You’re honestly thinking of still going there now that you’ve been attacked? The two safest places in all of Emporia are here in Albion and back in Byern. How could you consider leaving?”

  “I have to go,” she insisted. She was surer than ever before.

  “Do you even know what you’re looking for?” Maelia looked down like she hadn’t wanted to ask it.

  “Yeah, I think I do,” Cyrene said.

  “You think so?” Rhea asked.

  “I know how determined you are, but I don’t want this to be a wild goose chase,” Maelia chimed in.

  Cyrene swallowed. If she told everyone the truth, then she was going to sound insane, but she knew it was all connected to that dream. “There are two women in Eleysia who I need to see.”

  “Who are they?” Maelia asked curiously.

  “Matilde and Vera.”

  Everyone blankly stared at her.

  “Who?” Maelia asked.

  “How do you know you need to see them?” Rhea asked.

  “It’s complicated. I met a peddler back in Byern who said that there were people in Eleysia who knew how to help me. He told me to go find them.”

  Cyrene didn’t tell them about the connection to the dream. It felt crazy that they could be the same people as the ones Basille Selby had told her to find.

  “How are you even going to be able to find them?” Maelia asked.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I know it doesn’t seem like much, but it’s all I have.”

  “Not much? That’s nothing,” Maelia said. “You’re risking your safety on the whim of a peddler.”

  “It’s my safety to risk, Maelia. Are you guys with me or not?” Cyrene said.

  Ahlvie tilted his head at her. “I’m in.”

  Rhea leaned against the wall and nodded, too.

  “Maelia? We’re going with or without you, but I want you with us,” Cyrene told her. She hated doing this. She understood where Maelia was coming from, but this was too important to stay hidden behind the walls of the castle. She couldn’t live her life like that.

  “I’d like to go down saying this was a bad idea, but I’ll not let you leave with this reckless scoundrel,” she said, gesturing to Ahlvie. “Plus, you’ll probably need a medic.”

  “I think she likes me,” Ahlvie said dryly.

  “Look, as long as we’re a team, we’ll be fine out there. I just don’t know how we’re going to get there. Our last endeavor to get a ship didn’t exactly go as planned.”

  Ahlvie smirked. “Sorry about that.”

  Cyrene shook her head. “Does anyone have a better idea?”

  “I think we should talk to Orden,” Ahlvie told her. “I know you don’t know him. I get it. He doesn’t exactly look like the trustworthiest guy. But he’s going to be our best bet.”

  Cyrene looked around the group. Everyone seemed apprehensive, but she didn’t really see another option. If Orden could help them, then she needed to use his help. She wasn’t exactly going to be getting on an Eleysian ship anytime soon.

  “All right, Ahlvie.”

  He stood and exited the room.

  A minute later, Orden walked back into the now very crowded small bedroom with Ahlvie on his heels. Orden took the seat Ahlvie had abandoned. He had the appearance as if he had known this was going to happen all along.

  Cyrene gulped as she tried to decide how to begin. She glanced at Ahlvie, who nodded at her.

  She had to do this her way. “We need a way out of the city, and we need to get out as soon as possible—today preferably.”

  Orden sat back in his chair.

  “We need your help,” Ahlvie continued, giving Cyrene a dirty look.

  “How can I help you with getting out of the city?” Orden asked gruffly.

  “You know your way around Albion, around much more of the world than Albion. You taught me some of the tunnel systems,” Ahlvie said. “You can find us safe passage, so we can get a boat and get out of here.”

  “That’s all true.” Orden’s dark eyes remained stern.

  “Please,” Cyrene said, her voice lowering, “if you know all these things, can you show us the way out?”

  “You kids want out of Albion? Walk right out the city walls. No one is stopping you.”

  “I would, if every Guard in the city didn’t know my face,” Cyrene said.

  Orden stiffened.

  “The mysterious deaths throughout Byern were linked back to me. As a confidant to the King, Consort, and Prince,” she breathed, “I was put under heavy guard. They were worried I would be the next target.”

  “And you were,” he said.

  She nodded. “The Braj was after me.”

  “Brajs are always after someone for a reason. What was yours?”

  “I don’t know. I couldn’t understand what it was saying. Everything was jumbled.”

  “Did it speak into your mind?” Orden asked.

  “Yes.”

  His mouth dropped open.

  Did I say too much?

  “For how long? When do you remember it first happening?”

  “I…I don’t know. May
be as far back as my Presenting…maybe as soon as the procession,” she told him softly. “I didn’t know it was touching my mind until the tunnel. How did you know that? I’d never read that anywhere.”

  “When a Braj has touched your mind, you never forget it,” he told her stonily.

  Silence followed that statement.

  “Look, I don’t know how you know all of this, but at this point, I don’t need all the information,” Cyrene began.

  “I think you do. If you’ve had a Braj speak to you, then you’re in far worse trouble than I thought.”

  Cyrene swallowed, but Ahlvie was the one who spoke up, “What do you mean?”

  “Braj are killers. You’ve all heard the folklore saying that they never stop. Well, it’s true. One dead Braj doesn’t mean the end of it. It means the end of that Braj. I’ve seen them keep coming until even the best couldn’t fight them off. And I saw my master fall under their swift curved blade.”

  Maelia sent her an I-told-you-so look.

  “Cyrene,” Ahlvie whispered. His eyes looked fearful.

  “I understand what you’re saying,” she said. “But I need to go to Eleysia.”

  “What’s for you there?” Orden asked. He contemplatively stared at her.

  “That’s none of your concern. It’s my ticket out of this mess, and that’s all that is important.”

  “That’s a vague enough answer.” Orden narrowed his eyes at Cyrene.

  “She needs to go,” Ahlvie said. “And we’re all going with her, Orden. Will you help us?”

  Orden sighed, glancing between them. “All right. On one condition,” he said. “Take me with you.”

  When Cyrene and Maelia finally made it back to the castle to retrieve their belongings, dawn was just peeking over the horizon. Orden had offered a map of the tunnels and a small pony to help them back through the maze of tunnels since Cyrene was still weak. It went faster than Cyrene remembered it taking the night before, but everything had felt like slow motion yesterday.

  They left the pony near the entrance to Krisana where Younda had agreed to retrieve it, and then they found the stairs she and Ahlvie had gone down last night.

  Ahlvie and Rhea were collecting their belongings in the city while Cyrene and Maelia maneuvered through the castle.

  Maelia wrapped an arm around Cyrene’s waist and helped her up the stairs. When they reached the strange door Cyrene had entered before with Ahlvie, Maelia released her.

  “Wait here,” she whispered, holding a finger up. She peeked through the door and looked around into the hallway. A minute later, she waved Cyrene through. “I’ll see you in a few minutes to collect your bag.”

  Cyrene nodded and then hurried out of the tunnels. Her side didn’t feel quite as bad as when she had woken up. Part of that must have been from eating something to restore her energy and the nasty concoction Younda had made her drink. Her body was repairing itself at an alarming rate. It was almost like the night after her near death escape in the underground lake.

  She moved as quickly as she could handle through the empty corridors. She held her breath as she walked through the castle, hoping that she wouldn’t run into anyone. Younda had offered her a clean white dress out of her wardrobe, but it hardly fit like her own gowns, even pinned up. It had to do though. She couldn’t have worn the destroyed dress from the previous night.

  Cyrene turned the next corner and went into her room, closing the door behind her. She pressed her hand into her side and sighed heavily. It still hurt like hell. The Braj had been right about that.

  After walking into her bedchamber, she opened her wardrobe to the sea of dresses hanging perfectly. Her red cloak from Edric was sitting there, untouched. She hadn’t had a chance to wear it since leaving Byern. Her fingers moved through the beautiful material. Memories came back to her of the first time she had received this wrapped gift in her chambers.

  Her heart thudded. This was all she would have of Edric when she left. She should leave it because she knew that whatever had happened, or had been about to happen, was going to be long over once she left. She hadn’t come to his chambers last night and with her gone all would be lost between them. She didn’t know how long she would have to be in Eleysia, and she was sure that he would soon forget about her.

  Yet as she looked at the beautiful cloak, she didn’t think she could do leave it. Even if she was leaving Edric behind, she knew that she would always remember him just like this. The easy smile in the rose garden, the glow of his face in the setting sun on the beach, the desperate kisses on his ship—those were things she never wanted to forget.

  With a soft sigh, she finally folded the cloak and placed it into the last bit of space in her bag. While she might not need it, she couldn’t go without it. She couldn’t leave without taking a piece of him with her.

  Cyrene hefted her bag out of her wardrobe with a grunt and removed the leather pouch containing the book and letter. She had a few minutes before Maelia would return to collect her bag. She knew it would be risky, opening the book here, but a part of her desperately wanted to know if the dream had been real.

  She was leaving everything she knew and loved behind to go to Eleysia based on this book, the words of an old peddler, and a fantastical dream about the ancient Doma court and Viktor Dremylon. If she could read the words, then she would know that she was on the right path.

  Her hands trembled as she held the book. Her future lay before her. For a split second, she desperately wanted it all to be a dream so that she would wake up to find that she had just made Affiliate, and then everything would right itself. There would be no book, no riddles, no strange dreams. Then it passed, and she was desperate to know and understand this power humming just beneath her surface. This power strong enough to kill a Braj…could be strong enough to do much, much more.

  With a weighted sigh, she cracked open the delicate binding and stared down at the shimmery sharp font on the first page. She blinked twice, more in shock than anything. This time, she didn’t even have to concentrate to decipher the meaning. The words were as clear as day and as beautiful and vibrant as the first day she’d looked upon them, but now, their meaning sang to her as if she had known it all along. It spoke of the Doma society and the magical powers that linked them all together.

  This was the proof she had been searching for. Her powers truly existed.

  Now that she knew the true importance of the book, she never again wanted it out of her possession. It would be terrifying if it ever fell into the wrong hands. She slid the pouch over her head, so she could keep it on her person.

  Jolted out of her thoughts about the book, the door to her rooms creaked open. She rushed out to the main chambers to find Maelia with a small Guard unit bag slung easily over her shoulder.

  “We need to get going if we don’t want to be seen. The servants are already moving about,” Maelia said.

  “Yes. You’re right. Here’s my bag,” Cyrene said. She handed over her bag, but she kept the book and letter carefully hidden in her pouch.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  After reading the Doma book and living through the Ascension ritual with Serafina, she was surer than ever.

  “Yes.”

  Maelia hauled Cyrene’s bag over her other shoulder. “Okay. Well, I’ll meet you with the horses.”

  “Thank you for trusting me.”

  “Good luck in the tunnels.” Maelia gave her a quick hug before disappearing through the door.

  Cyrene hastily changed out of Younda’s dress and into one of her sturdier blue dresses. Her gaze moved around her luxurious rooms as she finished up and prepared to leave. It was hard to believe that she and Edric had walked on the beach just yesterday. It was even harder to believe she had promised to come to his rooms. Everything had changed in one night.

  Soon she would be out of Byern for the first time and on her way to Eleysia.

  Sorrow choked her, and she swallowed back the tears. She had wanted what Edric
was offering her, yet she had made her decision when she left with Ahlvie. She was making her decision again as she was leaving now. In another life, she could have been the girl happy to be at the beck and call of a king, happy to be a mistress. But that other girl wouldn’t have heard destiny knocking, and she wouldn’t have answered.

  She couldn’t stay in Byern for Edric. She didn’t know what was awaiting her in Eleysia, but she knew that it was necessary to go there. It would lead her to discover the extent of her abilities and find out the truth about this new world she was walking into.

  Cyrene carefully closed the door to the Pearl Bay Chambers and whispered, “Good-bye, Edric.”

  Daufina lounged back in the chair in the comfort of Edric’s study. He had been on edge all morning. She could see it in the tension in his shoulders, the way he clenched his jaw, and a million other minute details that someone attuned with his body could see from far off. She wanted to believe that he was just steeling himself for the trade negotiations with Eleysia, but he wasn’t normally so ill-tempered when it came to the matters of state.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” she asked carefully.

  He shot her an exasperated look from where he was standing. He had a spread of paperwork before him, all things he needed to decide on and sign before the Eleysian Prince arrived.

  “If you stay in this mood when he arrives, I’m sure he’ll be easily swayed to our side with your…charm, Edric.”

  Edric plunked the quill he had been writing with back into the ink and crossed his arms. “I know how to run this country, Daufina. I was bred for this role, raised to know my place since infancy, and have been doing a good job for the last five years. If you would care to take my place, by all means.” He gestured to the pages.

  She quirked an eyebrow at his chastisement and sent him a bemused smile. “No one could run Byern as you do. I was just noting that our Eleysian representative might not appreciate the fact that you are sulking.”

  He ran a hand back through his hair and sighed. “It’s nothing. Let it be.”

  So, she let it be. He would tell her in due time. He always did.

  The time passed uneasily. She could hardly concentrate on the text she was reading. She hated that he was so troubled.