The Arcane Ward (Wardens of Issalia Book 2)

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

  “Does it scare you…what your family can do with Chaos magic?”

  “Not really. More than anything, it leaves me jealous of their abilities.”

  Kony’s brow furrowed in thought. After a moment, his expression brightened. “You can heal, though. It seems like an extraordinary gift…something I wish I could do.”

  Broland shrugged. “I suppose. But it has limits. I can’t even heal myself.”

  “Why not?”

  “Nobody can. It’s just…one of the rules.”

  “Why must everything have rules with you?”

  Broland chuckled. “This is different. It isn’t like I can choose it.”

  Kony took a deep drink from his mug, emptying it. He then held up his hand, waving to a pretty girl who wore a pale blue smock over a black dress. A moment later, she walked over and eyed Kony before turning toward Broland. With long strawberry-tinted hair, large green eyes, and freckled button nose, she had an attractiveness that Broland couldn’t quite pinpoint. When his gaze fell lower, his eyes bulged and he turned away, blushing. After a moment, he looked back at her and hoped his cheeks didn’t appear as red as he feared. The woman glanced down at her partially exposed chest, and she snickered.

  “Shy one, eh?”

  “He doesn’t get out much,” Kony replied.

  The girl put a hand on the curve of her hip and tilted her head while her other hand teased her hair. Is it hot in here or is it just me? he wondered.

  She arched a brow as she stared at Broland, half smiling. “I assume you waved me over for something other than leering at me?”

  Broland felt his cheeks grow even warmer, and the girl chuckled again.

  “Yes.” Kony slid three coppers across the table, saving Broland. “Two ales, please. Keep the extra copper.”

  Scooping the coins off the table, the girl smiled and Broland found himself smiling in return, his heart racing as she winked at him and turned away. His eyes remained glued to her as she sauntered to the bar, swatting away groping hands during the journey.

  “You like her?” Kony asked.

  “There’s something about her.”

  “I can see a few somethings of note.”

  Broland chuckled at the comment.

  “Have you at least kissed a girl?”

  Taken by surprise and the directness of the question, Broland stammered, “Well, I…one time when I was twelve summers, I kissed a wash girl.”

  “Twelve?”

  “She was three years older than me.”

  “Pfft.” Kony swatted the comment aside. “You barely know your head from your backside when you’re twelve. Please tell me you have something more recent.”

  Broland grimaced. “You don’t know what it’s like to be in my position. I don’t have the time to mess around nor do I know any girls my age.”

  “Listen.” Kony leaned close, whispering. “You are the prince. One word from you and half the girls in Kantar would throw themselves at you. Why not take advantage of it?”

  Looking away, Broland considered the idea but shook his head. “It wouldn’t be right. That would be abusing my station. I…I can’t do it.”

  Kony sighed. “Fine. I’ll give it some time, but one of these nights, you need to take your shot. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “One of these nights?”

  Kony grinned. “You didn’t think this was to be our only outing? When I’m through with you, drinking, gambling, and girls will be second nature.”

  20

  Jungle Run

  Chuli squatted in wait while hiding behind the makeshift wall. The sky above was growing brighter, the stars now barely visible to the west. She held her bow ready, her mind calm – focused. Birds tweeted from the distant trees. A starfetch atop the stable roof chirped in response, joining in their morning serenade. All was peaceful outside, mirroring how Chuli was on the inside…until Thiron shouted.

  “Attack!”

  In a breath’s time, Chuli readied an arrow and darted from behind the barrier. Her eyes scanned the field and she spotted a man’s head poking above a hay bale. Slowing, she lifted her bow, focused on the man’s head – a target that seemed to grow larger while she focused on it – and loosed the arrow. A moment later, she was behind the next barrier. In her mind’s eye, she recalled what she had seen. A guard on the wall. One peeking from behind the shed. Another atop a horse near the stable.

  She pulled three arrows from her quiver, nocking the middle one on her bowstring while she held the other two between her fingers. After taking an easy breath, she slid around the barrier, took aim at her target, and let go. The arrow struck the man on the wall as Thiron leaped out of hiding and threw an egg at Chuli. She dove out of the way, rolled, and came up on one knee to shoot at the man on horseback. Her aim true, the arrow struck the mounted man in the chest, and she loosed the third arrow toward the man peeking around the shed. Another egg sailed toward her, and she rolled again, placing herself safely behind the barrier while the arrow struck the target and the egg cracked on the ground.

  Thiron’s voice rang out. “Good. You hit all four targets with your first four arrows.” A squeaking sound emerged from the same direction as his voice. “Now, take out the moving targets.”

  Chuli pulled three more arrows and nocked her bow before swinging it around the edge of the barrier. She found her first target, focused on it – her arrow following it to gauge the speed – and fired. When the next emerged, moving at the same speed while hanging from the same moving rope, she fired again. She knew that hitting the third would be easy, a repeated motion from the first two. With a jerk, the target lurched forward, the squeaking louder as it moved at twice the speed of the others. She hastily drew an arrow and fired, missing when she led it too much. She pulled another, and missed with a shot that was a hair too late. Then, it was gone, lost behind the hay bales. The squeaking ceased when Thiron stopped cranking the winch.

  “You grew complacent.” The man’s voice preceded him before he emerged from hiding. “Always assume that things can and will change at any moment. A gust of wind, another enemy, the speed at which they move, a distracting glint of sunlight…anything that might cause you to adjust your focus.”

  Upset with herself, Chuli pressed her lips together in frustration. “I can do better, Thiron.”

  The dark-skinned man stopped two strides away. “You are doing better, but better doesn’t matter if you are dead. This is why I push you, Chuli.

  “There is little doubt you have skill with the longbow,” Thiron said. “You have also displayed an aptitude for tracking and stealth. The trip to Vallerton proved your readiness in the field, but I would be sad to see you killed because of a small slip, some lack of detail that you overlook.

  “Now, get back into position. I’ll pull arrows from the targets and create a new arrangement of enemies. Maintain focus throughout and it should go well.”

  A sword swept toward Chuli’s head. She ducked and lifted her shield, the glancing blow sending the strike safely past while she lunged with her longsword. When Quinn twisted, Chuli’s strike missed. Quinn’s other sword trailed the first, sweeping toward Chuli’s midriff and forcing her to leap backward.

  The two girls eyed each other, focused. Gritting her teeth, Chuli leaped forward with her shield ready, her longsword colliding with Quinn’s short sword. The wooden weapons met with an odd, dead thud rather than the loud clack she had grown used to at the combat school. The Elastic augmentation infused into the weapons made them bend slightly, bounce heartily, but never break.

  Chuli spun, ducking below Quinn’s other sword as she swung her shield and struck Quinn’s leg. When Chuli rose to a ready stance, she recognized the look in Quinn’s eyes – her usually blue irises now appearing steely gray and narrowing with anger. Having learned the hard way, Chuli watched Quinn warily. She knew that Quinn only grew more determined when challenged, the anger making her more dangerous than reckless. Neither girl moved save for their deep b
reaths – a moment of respite that lasted mere seconds.

  Taking two quick steps, Quinn leaped up and twirled with one blade in the lead. Chuli jumped back and knocked the first blade aside, backing another step as she avoided the following blade. With a lunge, Chuli went for the kill, hoping to strike before Quinn could recover. Somehow, she missed when Quinn twisted and grabbed Chuli’s wrist. An elbow to the face left Chuli stumbling backward, blinking through the tears. In a flash, Quinn’s boot smacked the side of Chuli’s helmet and the world spun.

  The next thing Chuli knew, she was on her hands and knees. Red spots dotted the floor below her face, the blood sinking into the stone floor of the Atrium. She looked up and the room tilted, forcing her to fall on her side with a thump. There she lay with her eyes shut, the world still spinning.

  “Are you all right?”

  Quinn’s voice sounded distant beyond the ringing in Chuli’s ears.

  “Is there a healer around?”

  “I’m right here, Chuli.”

  “Ugh,” Chuli groaned. Why Jonah?

  His hand rested on her arm, the warmth of his palm giving something for her to focus on. A chill gripped her body and left her gasping for air. She opened her eyes and the world had stilled, the blur now gone. When she sat upright, she touched her nose and found it free of pain.

  “Thank you, Jonah.”

  She found herself surprised that she meant it. A frown crossed her face and she scolded herself. He means well. Don’t let your annoyance from the trip cloud your opinion of him.

  “I’m sorry as well,” Chuli muttered. “I…did not treat you well during our mission.”

  Jonah shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I know I tend to complain when I am uncomfortable. I suspect that may have worked your nerves. If so, you are not the first. If we ever again share a mission, I’ll try to refrain from doing so or will at least reduce the sheer volume of my complaints.” He held his hand toward her. “Let me help you up.”

  Chuli found herself grinning in response. “Fair enough.” She gripped his hand and he pulled her to a standing position.

  “Sorry about the elbow,” Quinn said. “You have blood on your sparring vest.”

  Chuli glanced down and found blood spots on her chest. A frown crossed her face. “Another one, likely stained.” She bent and scooped up her training sword.

  A grunt coming from across the room flagged Chuli’s attention. She found Brandt sparring with Bilchard, who stood a full head taller than the prince did. Brandt’s quarterstaff was a blur, forcing Bilchard to defend himself with sword and shield as he was driven backward.

  The taller boy burst forward, leading with his shield before swinging a heavy overhead strike at Brandt’s unprotected head. Somehow, Brandt’s staff redirected the strike and he slid inside to give Bilchard a hard kick to the groin. The big guy bent with the blow, and Brandt elbowed his chin, sending him to the floor. Brandt backed away as Bilchard lay curled up, coughing.

  “Excuse me,” Jonah said. “It looks like I have another patient.” The redhead ran over to the downed boy and knelt beside him.

  Chuli noticed Quinn staring across the room, in the direction of the boys.

  “What do you think of him?” Quinn asked.

  “Who? Jonah?”

  “No. Brandt.”

  Chuli turned toward him again and found the prince kneeling to one side of Bilchard while Jonah knelt on the other side. After a moment, the two helped Bilchard to his feet.

  “I am unsure. He acts…entitled at times. At other times, he almost seems normal. In truth, I find him somewhat of an enigma. His sister is easier to read and a fair bit more level-headed.”

  A smirk appeared on Quinn’s face. “Brandt runs a little hot, doesn’t he?”

  With a nod, Chuli said, “Not that I know anyone else who behaves that way.”

  Quinn’s brow furrowed. “I’m working on it.”

  Chuli grinned. “No worries. You’re my friend, faults and all. I’m not quite perfect either.”

  “Not quite?” Quinn’s tone was incredulous.

  “Close enough, I guess.”

  They both laughed. When the laughter settled, Quinn turned and looked up at the structure that loomed over them.

  “Are you interested in a jungle run?”

  Chuli considered it and nodded. “Yes. It would be a good way to end today’s workout.”

  Quinn turned to look across the room, toward the three boys who were in quiet conversation. “I wonder if Brandt would like to give it a go.”

  “You could ask him.”

  She turned and held Chuli’s attention for a moment before nodding. “You’re right.”

  Without another word, Quinn headed across the Atrium floor, her stride confident, almost threatening. Chuli experienced a moment of pride for her friend. When Quinn reached the boys, there was a brief conversation with her pointing toward the jungle and Brandt staring up at it. Jonah said some words, clapped Brandt on the back, and turned to leave. Quinn spun on her heels and strode back across the floor with Brandt following close behind. When they neared Chuli, Quinn addressed her.

  “Brandt says he will join us. Let’s ditch the weapons and give it a go.”

  With a nod, Chuli pulled her sparring helmet off and shook her head to free the stray hairs plastered to her skull. She ran one hand down her braid and found it still intact. Quinn reached the side of the room before Chuli and tossed her swords and helmet to the floor. A moment later, Chuli’s gear joined Quinn’s. When Chuli spun around, Brandt approached them, glancing up at the twisted contraption.

  “So, this Jungle, as you call it. Other than looking like a mess of beams and pipes and ropes, what exactly is the point?”

  Quinn gave him a sidelong glance. “If you don’t know, why did you agree to join us?”

  He grinned. “It looks dangerous. When given the option, I’d rather be dangerous.”

  Chuli rolled her eyes. “Not another one.” She then grunted when Quinn’s elbow struck her ribs.

  “You’re not as cautious as you claim, Chuli,” Quinn said. “Even despite Thiron’s preaching.”

  Chuli chuckled. “True. And while my daring side drives him crazy, he would likely explode if one of you two were his pupil.”

  “No doubt,” Quinn said before turning back to Brandt. “The Jungle is designed for training, just like everything else we do here. In addition to honing our scaling abilities, the Jungle is a great way to improve agility, strength, and balance. Don’t lose your focus, though. Despite the Elastic augmentation on these floor tiles, a fall from this thing will hurt. Tumbling from the upper levels will break bones or even kill you.”

  He gazed up at the structure towering seven stories above him. “And the leaders aren’t concerned?’”

  Quinn shrugged. “I guess not. We have healers always ready if someone gets hurt. Should someone have a particularly bad fall and die…well, death is a risk every warden must face at some point.” She paused in thought. “Save for the gadgeteers. They aren’t supposed to be put at risk, save for some invention gone haywire.”

  Chuli recognized the look on Quinn’s face and knew that her friend was concerned for Everson. Despite her brother’s mechanical legs and the newfound mobility they afforded him, Quinn behaved like nothing had changed. Chuli wondered when Quinn would stop trying to protect him from the world.

  “Do you guys want to race to the top?”

  Brandt peered up again. “The top?”

  “Sure. The ICON flag.” Quinn pointed upward, toward the black flag, marked by a gold ring with a gold dagger running through it. “See. Right there.”

  He looked up and asked, “What are the rules?”

  “What rules?” Quinn grinned. “Go!”

  She scrambled toward the nearest pole and began to scale it.

  Brandt barked. “Not fair!” as he ran to a rope and did likewise.

  Rather than wear herself out on the lowest level, Chuli ran to the ramp beside t
he wall and scurried up it to the ladder above. After she had cleared the top rung, she turned and ran across a long beam to another platform. A glance revealed Quinn running up an angled beam thirty feet away as she rose above Chuli’s current elevation.

  When Chuli reached the platform, she scaled another ladder and emerged to the fourth level hub – a platform with beams extending in four directions and ropes dangling beyond the end of each beam. She ran down one of them and leaped, catching the rope to swing to a small landing fifteen feet away. Gripping a pole, she began to shimmy up. Another glance to the side showed Brandt even with her as he climbed a rope. Quinn was beyond him, scaling a ladder.

  Reaching the top of the pipe, Chuli swung her feet over to a narrow beam, wobbling before catching her balance. She shuffled forward, careful to watch her foot placement and ignore the sixty-foot drop below. The beam ran to a narrow spiral stairwell that she scrambled up to emerge at the seventh level.

  Quinn and Brandt were already on the level, heading toward the flag waiting at the center. The beams that connected the outer platforms to the core narrowed on this level, now barely four inches wide. Chuli edged out on the beam, extending her arms to her sides for balance as she worked toward the center. A glance up showed Quinn moving much more quickly, throwing caution aside as she raced Brandt, who was coming from the opposite direction. The two reached the middle simultaneously and dove toward the flag as Chuli stepped onto the platform.

  Spinning away from Brandt with the flag in hand, Quinn laughed and held it up.

  “Give me that,” Brandt said through his laughter.

  “I got it first. I win.”

  When Brandt’s eyes shifted toward Chuli in appeal, she gave him a shrug. “Get used to it. She doesn’t like to lose…even to a prince.”