Kin of Kings (The Kin of Kings Book 1)

by B. T. Narro

  Cleve knew when his uncle was asking a question without actually asking one. Now was that time.

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  *****

  The bright moon allowed Cleve to follow the path back to his student house without needing to ask a mage for light. He found all three of his roommates in the open common area. They’d managed to obtain their same house from last year. Except for the space beneath the floorboards in Cleve’s room, where he used to conceal his bow when it was illegal to own one, their house was no different from the other houses for four. The second-year houses were more to the east and therefore closer to everything on campus, but he was the only one of his roommates who’d wished to move, so he’d put up no argument when they’d chosen this one.

  Cleve and Reela had gone overseas for months, and when they’d returned to Kyrro, Effie and Steffen had been in Sumar with Terren and others. With their friends gone, Cleve and Reela had decided to leave Kyrro again to visit Reela’s brother and the other Elves on the northern end of the continent. They both wanted to see how the Elves were faring with the uncivilized Krepps and worried they might encroach on a scene of war when they located the two races. But the trip turned out to be a waste.

  They’d gotten lost in the enormous forest of Merejic. Finding no Krepps or Elves after weeks of searching, Cleve and Reela had decided to return to Kyrro so as not to miss the beginning of the new year at the Academy. Effie and Steffen had returned from their trip as well, finally giving the four of them the reunion they’d all been craving. But there hadn’t been enough time since then for them to share all their stories.

  To Cleve’s surprise, the three of them seemed to be talking about Annah Varra instead of their trips.

  “A spy already,” Effie spat out. “And I thought this year would be normal. Cleve, will Terren tell you what information they get from her?”

  “I’m not sure, but I can ask.”

  “Good, I want to know.”

  “There’s something else you might want to know, Eff.” Reela spoke with her usual sly smile. “I questioned Basen soon after Annah. He’s in your class, right?”

  “Yes. What about him?”

  “Wait,” Steffen interrupted. Cleve was still getting used to how different the chemist looked. His shoulders and chest now filled out his tucked-in shirts. His eyes, usually gentle and curious, seemed wiser. But they were harsher as well, reminding Cleve of the recent looks he’d gotten from Terren. “Do you mean Basen…Hiller?” Steffen asked. “Is he here?”

  “Steffen!” Reela complained. “You just ruined the surprise. Yes, he’s Basen Hiller. Eff, you have Basen Hiller in your class!”

  “My bastial stars, they let him in the Academy?” Steffen demanded in obvious disbelief.

  Cleve had never heard the name Basen Hiller before, but he would never forget Tegry Hiller. So Cleve was just as incredulous as Steffen that Basen would be let within the Academy’s walls.

  “I’m certain he’s loyal,” Reela said, “so you can untwist your face, Steffen…and Cleve! I’m surprised you’re so quick to judge.”

  He glanced at her and matched her frown.

  “I thought it was interesting for him to be here,” Reela continued. “I wanted to ask him so many questions, but it wasn’t the right time.”

  Effie opened her palms. “Am I supposed to know who that is?”

  “Hiller, Effie!” Steffen blurted. “Basen…Hiller!”

  Effie’s mouth twisted in embarrassment. “Sounds familiar, but…”

  “Tegry Hiller,” Steffen said, his tone rising in pitch. “King Tegry Hiller…”

  “Oh, that bastard!” Effie slapped both palms on the table as she jumped up. “Is Basen his son?”

  Reela laughed and squeezed Effie’s shoulders. “I’ve missed you, Eff.” She kissed her cheek. “No, Basen is his nephew.”

  Effie turned to Cleve. “Did you know this?”

  “No. But I’m just now remembering stories I’ve heard about Tegry Hiller’s nephew. Wasn’t he rumored to be exiled from Tenred along with Tegry’s brother?”

  “Yes,” Steffen confirmed, “and I know it’s true.”

  Cleve had learned last year to never doubt Steffen whenever the chemist claimed he knew something.

  While Steffen and Reela told Effie what most already knew about the Hillers, Cleve decided to visit the bathhouse. There was one at the center of every five student houses, and each had showers—a luxury he’d missed in his time away from the Academy.

  By the time he returned, Effie and Steffen had retired to their rooms, and he found Reela already in his when he came in. She was under the covers of his bed, asleep, but she awoke when he joined her, turning to kiss him.

  “It’s good to be back, isn’t it?” she whispered.

  “Better than good.”

  Just as he kissed her neck, someone pounded on the front door.

  He and Reela sat up. “Do you recognize who it is with psyche?” he asked as the pounding continued.

  “No. Must not be someone we know.” They hopped out of bed and rushed to throw on some clothing.

  Effie and Steffen were out of their rooms at the same time as Cleve and Reela. They stopped to let Cleve open the door, revealing five guards donning leather armor. The sight of them made aggression flood Cleve’s body. The last time men like this came to his home, they’d taken him to prison.

  “Reela Worender?” one called, looking over Cleve’s shoulder.

  She came forward. “What’s wrong?”

  “We need you to come with us to the castle.”

  “Why?” Reela didn’t move.

  “The psychics there found Annah Varra to be loyal.”

  “That’s impossible,” Reela said.

  “They need to question her again with you and the king’s psychics present.”

  Cleve put himself between them. “Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

  “No, it’s to be done tonight by the king’s order.”

  Cleve reminded himself that the king was now James Kerr, who he trusted far more than the last. There were no tricks here. Reela would return safely.

  She sighed. “I don’t understand how the psychics could think she’s loyal when she was clearly lying, but let me retrieve my shoes.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  The third day of evaluation week, endurance day, had come. All of the second- and third-year students dreaded it, causing the first-years to dread it as well. But Basen was excited. He hid it as best he could so the others wouldn’t think he was a madman.

  He’d worked all day, every day, at the workhouse, most of the time while hungry. Even before then, he’d always been able to work longer and train harder than his comrades. Endurance was in his nature. Now with food in his belly, he couldn’t imagine anything to come that could be worse than the workhouse. He finally would have the chance to prove himself to his instructor, Penny.

  More than half of the thirty students in his evaluation group had attempted to destroy the ribbon without breaking the wood at the end of the day yesterday—because a jump to Group One meant they could skip the rest of the week, specifically endurance day. All of them had attempted various methods of shooting fireballs, and all of them had ended up breaking the wood without so much as catching the ribbon on fire.

  Gossip had spread throughout the entire school that Annah had been deemed innocent by the king. People didn’t know how to take this news. Those who offered opinions tended to believe that Annah knew some sort of trick with psyche that gave her the ability to lie without detection. They believed she didn’t use this trick correctly the first time she was questioned, at the Academy, but that she did later when questioned again by the king’s psychics, and then again when Reela was brought to the castle. Effie was one of those people—a staunch supporter that Reela wouldn’t make a mistake and that there must be something Annah had done to lie.

  Unfortunately, word of Basen’s surname had gotten around as well. He’d heard this from Effi
e after remarking that it felt like people were staring at him. He’d expected her to take the opportunity to ask him about his exile, as most people did, but she spoke nothing of it. Instead, she’d told him something that put him at ease.

  “Everyone who sees Reela’s ears for the first time gawks at them. You included.” Effie had given him a hard poke to his shoulder. “It’ll be the same case with your name. You might get some questions like Reela does, but it’ll pass when the next deviant comes along.”

  Apparently Basen, Annah, and Reela’s names weren’t the only ones frequently passed between murmurs. Sanya was even more heavily discussed—the first female warrior, from Tenred no less, who would be told to leave if she didn’t improve her skills. She told Basen that she spent as little time in the dining hall as possible because the attention made her feel like she was on a stage.

  He’d gone to her house at the end of the first day of evaluation week, but there was a note telling him she had to go see the healers about her injuries and would come by his house when she returned. He’d talked with his roommate, Nick, as he waited for her, and when Nick found out Basen didn’t know what meditating was, he took it upon himself to teach Basen.

  “Meditation is the repetition of letting bastial energy flow in and out of your body,” Nick explained.

  “What’s that supposed to do?”

  “It’s known to help you recover from fatigue faster. Some also believe injuries heal faster while meditating, but if that’s true, it’s not at a fast enough rate to tell.”

  Basen tried to meditate, but all he could do was pull in bastial energy and then push it out, which did nothing but fatigue him over time.

  Nick explained that properly meditating was like breathing, requiring no effort or thought. Unfortunately, this made it difficult for Nick to explain how it was done. He couldn’t remember learning to meditate, having mastered it too many years ago.

  “I’ll try to think of another way to explain it later,” Nick said with a yawn. “And we’ll try again tomorrow.”

  Basen thanked him and they each went to their room. He knew he was fortunate to be paired with a mage like Nick, someone he could call his friend.

  Eventually the knock came that he’d been anticipating with excitement. He opened the door and Sanya sighed as she smiled, her shoulders slumping.

  “The day has been more difficult than I’d like to admit,” she said.

  “I can tell just by looking at you.” He stepped out and closed the door behind him so as not to wake Nick. “You seem half asleep.”

  “I am. Was your day as you expected it to be?”

  “Given that I had no expectations, I suppose I can’t really answer that. So, Sanya Grayhart, the first female warrior. I’m impressed.”

  She scoffed as she chuckled. “We’ll see.”

  “I would’ve thought you’d be here as a chemist…with your father being the head chemist at the castle.”

  “He’s dead,” she said bluntly.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I loved him but I never liked him…and I never could make potions. I’m surprised you don’t know that about me. I don’t have any control over bastial energy.”

  “Now I’m surprised.”

  She formed a wry smile. “I suppose we didn’t speak much, did we?”

  “No, our swords did most of our talking.”

  “I never could beat you.” She held a tired grin as she spoke. “You have to tell me what happened after the news of your brother got out, but another time. I must lie down. Too many strikes to the head, and the potions they’ve given me certainly aren’t helping me stay on my feet.”

  He offered his arm. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

  “Such a gentleman,” she joked, for it was about ten steps away. She giggled as she took his arm. “I still can’t believe you’re here. I wonder if we’re the only ones from Tenred.”

  “Probably.”

  They arrived at her door too soon.

  “I’m sure we’ll find time to talk,” she said.

  “We will.”

  Unfortunately, every fleeting moment with her since then was never long enough. She’d taken to training with Cleve Polken whenever time allowed, and Basen didn’t wish to disturb them, knowing how desperate Sanya was to prove herself. That part of her hadn’t changed.

  Soon into endurance day, Basen realized he’d gravely underestimated the toll it would take on him. Penny called them up in groups of three and demanded when to cast a fireball, what size it should be, and which target they should hit. It wasn’t difficult for Basen to keep up with the speed of her demands, for he could gather energy quickly. What drained his stamina was competing with the mages beside him to gather the same bastial energy in the vicinity.

  Never had he tried casting so many fireballs in succession next to other mages, but he soon came to realize that much of the bastial energy he was absorbing came from the very fireballs he and the other mages were shooting. He could feel a surge of it come to him as soon as their fireballs exploded against the training dummies.

  He knew he couldn’t be regathering all of the energy he’d used for the previous fireball, because much of it had to burn to form the fireball in the first place, but he certainly got back more of what he’d just used than he did from his own body. A deep chill came on after his tenth fireball, his body telling him he’d sapped all the bastial energy he could from it for a while.

  As the morning went on, more and more people began failing to gather enough energy in time to keep up with their instructor. But Basen managed to shoot every time Penny demanded, never missing his target.

  Finally they seemed to be done with endless fireballs, as the last group collapsed onto the sand like all of those before them.

  “Effie, feeling fresh enough to go first for the next challenge?” Penny asked.

  “That depends. I forget what’s next.” Effie had done exceptionally well so far, but even she seemed tired, strands of her black hair sticking to her cheeks from sweat.

  Penny flicked her arm and a stream of fire shot forward, starting just in front of the tip of her wand. It roared as it grew to the incredible distance of a grown man lying down. Thin but hot enough to singe flesh, it still grew to cover ten feet in length as Penny’s face crumpled from the effort. Then she relaxed, and the fire disappeared from the air. Basen had little idea people were capable of such a spell.

  But Effie was not nearly as impressed, sighing as she trudged forward. “Might as well get it over with.”

  Penny wiped her brow with the back of her hand, breathing heavily. “For the first-years who haven’t already figured it out, the challenge is the length you can make the stream of fire, not how long you can maintain the fire. That’ll be after.”

  Basen grumbled with the rest of them. The thought of the endurance challenge to follow took away all sense of fun.

  Penny smiled wickedly. “I love endurance day, don’t all of you?”

  From what Basen had seen thus far from Effie, he expected her to make the longest stream of fire out of anyone.

  Her cute, pixie face tightened as lines formed on her forehead and around her dark eyes. Fire sputtered out from her wand, growing and shrinking rapidly. Then she seemed to get a better grasp on the spell as it lengthened at a steady rate. It stretched, thinning as it extended.

  Just when it seemed that she’d reached her limit at three or four feet, the whole stream of fire darkened from yellow to orange as she must’ve increased the amount of sartious energy she was pushing through to be burned.

  She heaved out grunts as if trying to expel something from her body. Such a sound might’ve made Basen or his classmates laugh if the sight before them wasn’t so inspiring. The fire grew to six feet, then seven. She let out one last grunt and the tip edged forward another inch before the stream came apart.

  Effie collapsed to her knees. The fire dispersed in waves that cascaded down to the sand, where it pooled and crackled fo
r a while.

  Basen was thoroughly discouraged. He couldn’t create a stream of fire that length when he’d never practiced the spell before.

  “Effie, I’m impressed.” Penny sounded surprised. “You must have a better grasp on sartious energy than I thought.”

  Her compliment made Basen realize even more that he was doomed to do poorly in this challenge. Bastial energy was his specialty, not sartious. He’d always had just enough grasp to scrape out the sartious dust he needed for a fireball from the pellets within his wand. But to make a stream of fire longer than his arm, he would need to be drawing in sartious energy from the air like he could with bastial.

  He still felt there was a new spell waiting for him to learn based on what had happened at the training center, but the only time he’d had to recreate it was when he’d returned home last night. Instead of practicing, though, he’d taken Penny’s advice to get as much rest as possible before endurance day. He was glad he did.

  Effie gasped for breath as she gingerly got back to her feet and shuffled out of the way.

  “Basen,” Penny called out to his dismay. “You like competing with Effie, so you might as well go right after her.”

  Damn, it’s been that obvious? Apparently so, though Effie didn’t seem to care as she plopped down on the sand and glanced over indifferently.

  He stepped forward so his classmates were behind him and drew his wand. He had yet to wield it without thinking of Alabell and how much he owed her.

  Mages could do nothing but move energy, so it was the amount of energy and how they moved it that determined their spell. But the more energy a mage controlled at once, the more difficult it was to hold on, akin to picking up rocks and keeping them steady.