Void Born

by R. J. Metcalf

  Or maybe that was just Christopher’s impatience.

  Lucio’s harsh panting covered the sound of crickets and the scurry of small critters underfoot. Christopher’s lip curled as Lucio struggled up a steep incline, the soft dirt giving way under his feet, hindering his efforts. What good was longevity if one’s body wasn’t able to keep up when needed?

  Christopher glanced back, peering through the trees for the lights he’d seen earlier. The rain was lessening, and now he could make out the ship in the glow of the barrier. It had to be the same airship that he’d seen while they were fleeing Kelstone—the open-winged phoenix carved on the front was unmistakable. “They got past your sea creatures,” he warned.

  Lucio turned, his eyes radiating a weird purple similar to the barrier. The color faded as he stared. He raised his hands and curled his fingers into claws, thrusting them in the direction of the airship. The ground rumbled as squawks and the deep shrieks of dragons filled the air, and Christopher caught a glimpse of a beaked dragon rushing past.

  “That will hold them.” Lucio pointed up at a turret towering over them, dark and ominous in the glow of the barrier flowing out of either side. “Our target.”

  “Finally.” Christopher studied the building, noting the two human shadows that lurked at the base of the tower. It was impossible to know if the Elph guarding the place had extinguished their lights because they knew Lucio and Christopher were coming, or because that was standard procedure for nighttime. Either way, it wouldn’t protect the guards from him and Lucio.

  Christopher broke out from the cover of the plants, moving as stealthily as possible, wary of branches that would snap and give him away.

  “Who’s there?” An authoritative voice rang out. “I hear you.”

  Christopher grimaced. Unless the other one had some useful manipulating talent, he’d be close to blind in the purplish night. Probably. Unless they’d undergone night training like he had. But these southern Elph seemed soft compared to the Coven leaders back home. Point proven, having only two guards here was gross overconfidence on behalf of the Elph. Or else there were more unpleasant surprises to come.

  “Just a friend,” Christopher called back. He sheathed his sword, letting the metal slide in as noisily as possible. He held his hands up, even though it was unlikely that they’d be seen as he walked closer to the dark tower, confident in his black clothing to help him blend in. Clouds moved away from the sliver of a moon, taking the last of the drizzle with them. Well, there went the blending in. Only an hour or two until dawn started to lighten the sky. Christopher’s eyes narrowed at the soldiers who became easier to see in the moonlight. Time to end this.

  “Leave, or face death,” the voice called out. “No mercy will be shown, by order of the emperor.”

  Christopher broke into a sprint, catching the regular Elph by surprise. His sword clanged against the matte black chestplate of the guard, and Christopher jumped back with an oath. He’d underestimated them, not expecting the camouflaged armor. The soldier grunted, and wind whooshed by Christopher’s head. Their swords met in a clash. Christopher pushed up with his blade, forcing his attacker’s hands up. Christopher yanked his dagger from his belt and drove it in the man’s armpit. His scream rang in Christopher’s ears. The man dropped to a knee, fingers scrabbling for his dropped sword. Christopher decapitated him.

  Where was that second guard? Getting reinforcements? Stalking behind him? Christopher spun on his heel, searching the shadows but not finding anyone beside Lucio, who dusted his hands off with a sigh.

  “Well. Those two are dealt with.” Lucio leaned against one of several large rocks by the mouth of the tower. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye out for Flint’s group.”

  Christopher’s eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hairline. “What?”

  “I don’t know about this one, but all the other keystone locations have a ward that Flint insisted we use.” Lucio gestured to himself. “If an Elph approaches the keystone with a bloodstone, the bloodstone will be destroyed. I have enough Elph blood that I’m not going to risk it.” He pulled the stone from his pocket and held it out. “I’ll hold them off when they get too close. You take down the barrier.”

  He dropped the bloodstone into Christopher’s hand, and Christopher clutched the smooth rock instinctively, his hand almost tingling in reverence. He, he, would be the one to change the course of history. Change all of Terrene as it was known.

  He could finish the job. His current order from his blood-bond would be complete. Warmth radiated from his chest, and a grin split his face. Then he’d kill Lucio, and return to Victor and his group in Aerugo. Almost there.

  He slipped the stone into his pocket, and the memory of Andrew’s blood bathing the rock flashed through his mind, sucking away the glow of excitement. He rubbed his hand on his shirt. It was an honor, no doubt. Yet it was also still horrifying.

  “You were raised for this,” Lucio stated as he turned away. “Now complete your mission, so we can get out of here. I have a fiefdom waiting for me.”

  “Yes, sir.” Christopher looked up at the tower, the stones an odd purplish color from the barrier. Oh, I’ll complete my mission, all right.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Jade

  A stitch burned in Jade’s side as she stumbled into the softly lit entryway of Francene’s villa. Krista collapsed onto the pale pink marble next to Briar, her eyes closed as she wheezed. Samantha stood at the doorway by Zak’s side, both of them watching the closed gate.

  “We need more guards,” Zak stated, hands on his hips. “Now.”

  Samantha nodded. “I’ll find Francene and inform her of what happened.” She approached Jade and threw her arms around her in a gigantic hug. Samantha’s hair tickled Jade’s nose, but she pressed her face into her mother’s shoulder, soaking in the warmth and calm Samantha exuded. Samantha tweaked Jade’s chin. “Stay with the group. If Victor knew where we’d be tonight, he likely knows exactly where you’re staying, too.”

  Jade sucked in a breath at Victor’s name, and she gave her mother a weak smile of agreement before moving toward the door and Zak. She squeezed Briar’s hand as she passed him. This definitely was not how she’d hoped for the night to go.

  “Where do you think Zaborah is?” she asked Zak softly. She wrapped her hand around his arm, leaning in to comfort him as much as herself. “Should we send anyone after her?”

  Zak’s lips thinned and he shook his head, pain in his eyes. “We have to trust she’ll be fine. We need to worry about Victor, and making sure this place is as secure as possible.”

  The sound of boots running through the hall reverberated in the entryway, and ten men came around the corner, saluting as a unit when they saw Zak. One stepped forward. “We’ve been sent for your orders, sir. M’lady has summoned more to come soon.”

  Samantha followed a moment later. “Jade’s quarters are the most defensible. Let’s move there.”

  Zak directed the guards to their new stations as Jade stared out into the night, ignoring her mother. If Victor was here, did that mean Lucio was here too? Had they separated? Had Ben’s group found Lucio yet? Or had something happened? Was he even alive?

  A figure stumbled into view just beyond the edge of Francene’s property, and Jade clutched the doorframe. “Zaborah?”

  Zak sprinted past her, meeting his sister before she’d barely made it to Francene’s gate. He hunched over Zaborah, then hollered out at Jade. “Get my med-kit!”

  “I’ll get it. Meet you in your room, Jade.” Samantha shot down the opposite hall, her steps muffled by the rug.

  Jade rushed out to help Zak even as he waved her back. She slid one of Zaborah’s arms over her shoulders to take some of her weight, and blood soaked Jade’s neck. She shot Zak a startled look, but his gaze was focused entirely on the lit entryway. Zaborah grunted as they walked, her breathing labored.

  They lurched down the hall to Jade’s quarters, and Krista met them at the door, opening
it wide. Zak and Jade helped Zaborah to lie facedown on her bed.

  Zak yanked a dagger from his boot and eased the tip of the blade under Zaborah’s shirt, cutting the fabric back. He paused at the edge of her leather half-bodice. “We need to take that off.”

  Jade started loosening the ties and gently tugged the sticky garment off Zaborah’s wet shirt. She handed it to Krista.

  “What happened?” Zak asked his sister urgently as he peeled back the blood-soaked fabric.

  She swore into the bedspread, her fingers clamping at the bed. “They got the drop on me.”

  Jade blanched as Zaborah’s injury was revealed. A deep slice ran from the tip of Zaborah’s left shoulder down to the middle of her back. Samantha handed the suture kit to Jade, and she promptly started threading a needle for Zak.

  Zak rotated his belt and selected a vial, carefully pouring a pale green liquid over the open wound, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Zaborah hissed through her teeth, and Jade’s stomach clenched in sympathy.

  “The prince. Did you see him when you came this way?” Zak held out his hand, and Jade gave him the threaded needle. He bent to his task over Zaborah’s back. “We ran into Victor, and left Weston and his men behind.”

  “Whales of the pain-filled Void,” Zaborah ground out as Zak wove the needle in and out of her back. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head, tears leaking out. “Weston’s alive. Steamed. Victor insinuated that he’d had business with Everett. Weston’s going to confront Everett now.”

  Zak’s hand paused before continuing. “Son of a whale.”

  A different fear filled Jade. And this time it was for Weston, of all people. If Everett and Victor had ties, would Weston be safe on his own? Just what, exactly, would Everett want with a traitor who wanted the barrier down?

  Chapter Sixty

  Weston

  Weston stalked down the hall, focused on his father’s closed office door. He didn’t care if the lamps were dimmed for the night, or if it was past midnight.

  He pushed open Everett’s door, ignoring the guards. He stopped, off-kilter when he realized that his father wasn’t in the room. But all the lights were fully lit, illuminating the spacious office, the stocked bookshelves and the uncluttered desk. He closed the door behind him and slowly walked up to the broad desk.

  How many lives had his father ruined by giving out evil orders from this place? Had his father met with Victor here? What business could the two have in common? What goals would they both share?

  Weston ran his fingers along his father’s perfectly kept desk. He frowned and circled around the table, his hand hovering over a small pile of ashes of what looked to be a burnt letter. It stood out on the otherwise gleaming desk. He touched the parchment, then picked it up, holding it to the light, trying to make out the fire blackened words.

  A P, a smudge of burned paper, maybe an r followed by a question mark, and then “ently.” The word “silenced” was whole, no smudges, no burns, no marks. Weston stared at the scrap for a long moment, trying different letter combinations in his head to make sense of the fragment. “Permanently silenced.” His hand shook, and he resisted the urge to crumple the paper.

  Permanently silenced. Who did his father want permanently silenced? Was that what business he had with Victor? Or was it something more? Did he plan to silence Jade? Why? Did he know, or suspect that Weston was planning to call it off at the last minute?

  It clicked. That was the racket Victor had with his father. Victor had learned who Jade was. He was the one who’d told Everett. He had to have been the one. He’d gotten Andre arrested.

  The door swung open, and Weston dropped his hand behind his back. His father paused by the doorway, then continued in, crossing by Weston.

  “I seem to find you in my office more frequently of late.” Everett pulled his chair out.

  Something about that comment proved to be the final gear loosening Weston’s spring. He snapped and waved the scrap of paper in his father’s face. “Who was your inside man aboard the Sapphire? Who did you want silenced?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Everett leaned back, fingers steepled and eyebrows raised.

  “I know you were working with someone aboard the Sapphire. That’s how you knew about Adeline.” Heat swept through Weston, filling him with rage at his father’s stone-faced expression. Weston curled both hands into fists. “Was it Victor?”

  “What does it matter—”

  “Was it Victor?” Weston shouted, slamming his palms against the desk. He shook, his breathing rapid.

  Everett’s lips pursed, and his eyes thinned at Weston. “You seem to already know the answer, don’t you?”

  “Did you know he found me tonight?” Weston bit out. Everett’s eyes widened, and Weston pushed away from the mahogany with a snarl. “He killed at least two of my men. He wants you to call off your hunt for him.”

  “I don’t negotiate with traitors.”

  Weston watched Everett’s face for a reaction as he delivered Victor’s ultimatum. “If you don’t, he’ll reveal all the work he’s ever done with you. He’s pretty confident that our people won’t like whatever it is you’ve done. I’m going to assume that I’m in that category, too.”

  Everett’s face paled just enough for Weston to feel the pit of truth hit his stomach. It turned to rage. “For all your talk of wanting to keep the south safe and strong, you’re the one endangering it in the first place! And all for what? Power?” Weston sneered. “Power has blinded you with corruption. What else have you done?”

  Everett stood, his hands pressed against the desk, his nostrils flaring. “Learn your place,” he hissed, emphasizing each word. “You are too much like your mother. Idealistic. Weak. My allowance of Andre as your tutor was a mistake. You should be thanking me for all I’ve done. Power is everything.”

  “Oh, really?” Weston whirled on his heel and jabbed a finger in the air. “If power is so great, then bring Andre back from the Hollows. We both know that you only sent him there because of Jade. Now that everyone knows she’s alive and going to be queen, there’s no reason to make Andre rot any longer. Prove you’re powerful. Bring him home.”

  “Naïve child,” Everett spat, cold cruelty shining in the depths of his eyes. “Did you really think I’d let someone like Andre live and risk him talking out of turn?”

  The hail in Weston’s stomach churned into a ball of ice.

  “Francene bought him time by sending Andre to the Hollows, and she and your mother tried so fruitlessly to free him, but nowhere is out of my reach.” Scorn dripped off every word that Everett uttered. “Did you really think I don’t have someone at the Hollows? Foolish boy.” He leaned forward, pointing to the paper in Weston’s hand. Everett’s glare pierced through Weston’s flimsy armor of hope, leaving it in tatters. “According to that letter, my order was obeyed. Andre Catalina has been silenced. Forever.” He ground his fist against his desk. “And you know what else I know of? I know that your precious mechanic princess is unfaithful to you. She’s in love.” Everett spat the word as if it were foul. “With her bodyguard.”

  Weston’s head spun. His father had killed Andre? Weston gripped the edge of his father’s desk and sank into a nearby chair. Everett’s words caught up slowly to all the chaos in his churning brain. Weston blinked owlishly. “I already know that.”

  “Did you know that she was seen in his arms, twined on a couch like lovers?” Everett’s tone would almost seem taunting, if it wasn’t for the hatred dripping off each syllable. “She mocks our family and our power with her lack of regard for your wedding. If that Monomi is going to be a distraction for her, I will remove him from the situation.”

  “No!” Weston exclaimed, holding his hands out. “No,” he repeated, softer. Weston racked his brain, trying to focus on this new threat, pushing everything else that he had to process to the back of his mind. “Give me a week to win her back. Don’t kill anyone else. Please.”

  His father
tugged on his suit jacket once, considering. He finally nodded. “Three days. I’ll give you three days to claim her, and she has to send him away, or I take care of the problem.”

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Ben

  Ben gritted his teeth, pushing through the exhaustion already wearing at the edges of his energy. Geist ran across the slick ground like a gazelle fleeing a lion. Adrenaline alone would last him for only so long. First the jailbreak, then a sea serpent, then dragons, and now to find Lucio and stop him. Ben’s muscles trembled from the steep terrain they were climbing over, and he swiped at the moisture that beaded on his forehead. The rain had lightened to a heavy mist, which was currently the only good thing he could find in the entire situation.

  Raine stumbled beside him, and he pulled her up, mud streaked across her knees and her palm. Up ahead, Finn kept pace with Ezekial, both following Geist’s lead while Ash took up the middle.

  A tower loomed in the purple shadows up ahead, and Ben squinted through the underbrush, unsure if he saw movement or not. A bolt of fire shot from Ezekial, hitting the stone keep with a whoosh, illuminating a bloodied body on the ground. Two men jumped back—presumably the two they’d been tailing—and one ran into the open doorway, leaving his comrade by the doorway of the tower.

  Finn threw a ball of orange-swirled fire, and the remaining man lifted a hand, water shimmering into a shield before him. The fireball sizzled.

  Ben panted, scouring the land for defensible positions. Raine had no magic manipulation, and that meant both of them were over their heads here. They weren’t going to be useful in this fight.