A King's Caution

by Brennan C. Adams

  “Something's blocked the doors,” Raimie shouted. “I need everyone to stay calm while I-”

  A wail cut him off, and terror drove the tranquil crowd from mere moments before into a hysterical mob. Several rushed forward to try the doors, despite his warning, while others frantically attempted to squeeze through the windows, only to retreat with glass lacerated hands. In their blind dismay, a few took weapons to the wooden walls, accidentally wounding others with their wild swings.

  “It’s his fault!” someone shouted. “Get him!”

  None had the courage or desire to attack a newly appointed monarch, but they were plenty willing to assail Raimie’s friends, family, and allies. His leg kept him pinned in place while Uncle Marcuset and Gistrick stood back to back against a rush of panicked adversaries, Oswin and the Hand desperately fought to reach him, and the Ada’ir delegation arrayed itself in a defensive position in the corner. Riadur disappeared beneath a swell of bodies.

  And all around, the flames spread, as if fueled by violence.

  Raimie scrambled for Daevetch so he could provide a release for these reckless, angry people, but from the corner of his eye, he caught Ren retreating from a group of crazed Udulians. Any control to which he might have clung in this vortex of terror and panic dashed to pieces. Without a conscious thought, he was across the hall and carving through those who meant to do her harm. Wrapping her in his arms, he dove into the shadows.

  Something accompanied not him as his scattered being floated between the world’s cracks. The strewn creature which he’d become gravitated to its warmth even while images flashed. A frozen wasteland littered with black boxes, it was comforting, a desert in the midst of a densely whirling cloud of sand, completing, a village beneath a gaping wound in the sky, encompassing, a black hallway with a sheet of shadows where doors should be, thrilling. No. Stop. That’s our exit. Let us go.

  The shadows spit Raimie from their embrace this time, displeased by the taste of his guest. Ren uncontrollably shivered in his arms.

  “What was that?!” she whispered, her voice worn to a scratchy rasp. “Alouin, what was that, Raimie?!”

  He gently pressed a finger to her lips. Questions could wait. The people trapped in the hall of worship couldn’t. Raimie called the Daevetch which barred the doors to him, immediately returning it in a blast which splintered the thick wood into tiny slivers.

  “Out, out, out!” he shouted.

  A trickle of people stumbled from the hall, coughing up a storm. They blearily paused in the threshold as if uncertain of where they should next go, and the frantic crowd they blocked threatened to bowl them over.

  “This way!” Raimie called, prodding them into motion.

  He led them to the closest exit as best he could with his limp, and they spilled outside, gratefully blinking in the dazzling sunlight. The obsidian cast palace shouldn’t catch fire like the hall of worship, but with the crowd outside, if the worst occurred, no one would again be caught by flames. Already, guards approached the commotion. They’d see the palace evacuated until the fire was extinguished.

  Looking back, however, Raimie wasn’t sure if anything could be preserved of the hall of worship. Flames licked the walls and had already begun their feast on the roof. It wouldn’t take long for the structure to collapse on itself. The bonfires had done their job.

  Speaking of bonfires, who’d planned this? And this was clearly planned. Fires didn’t start themselves, and exits weren’t barred by happenstance.

  Few enemies threatened Raimie now that Doldimar had gone into hiding. Enforcers and Kiraak had vanished alongside their master, taking their danger with them. Only the Dark Lord and perhaps Kylorian stood out as potential suspects, but Kylorian’s ash covered head bobbed near Ren. Raimie doubted the other man was so devoted to ruining him he’d risk his own life in the process.

  Had the fire been Doldimar’s move? An attempt to kill all who opposed him in one fell swoop? If so, it had been ill-advised. He knew Raimie controlled Daevetch. The Dark Lord should also have known his control would allow him to escape...

  The train of thought came to a screeching halt. Behind the palace guard, a man strolled from the drama, hands in pockets. By itself, his calm departure from the scene of the crime wouldn’t have raised Raimie’s suspicions. What made him latch onto the stranger, however, was the hard Daevetch kernel traveling alongside him.

  Without a word, Raimie followed as fast as his bad leg would allow. He’d almost caught up when the stranger stopped.

  “I’d wondered if you’d detect me,” he said.

  “Who are you?” Raimie snapped. “Did you set the fires?”

  “No, I didn’t.” The stranger turned, revealing a smirk set below two black orbs. “My Kiraak, however, are definitely to blame.”

  “So, this destruction was of Doldimar’s making,” Raimie commented. “What’s he playing at? He must know such a trap wouldn’t ensnare Kheled or me.”

  “Merely another gift, King Raimie.” The Enforcer bowed mockingly. “He hopes you’ll sleep well, knowing how simple it was to reach you.”

  “You can tell Doldimar I’m sick of his ‘gifts’ when next you see him,” Raimie snapped.

  “When I see him? You plan to let me go? Alive?” the Enforcer asked, eyebrows soaring. “That seems… unwise.”

  “I need you to deliver my message,” Raimie shrugged. “I know of no other way to communicate my utter loathing to him, and so, you go free. I can’t, however, allow you to leave the way you are. You’re too useful a tool in Doldimar’s hand. So first, I’ll defang you.”

  Shadowsteal works in much the same way as Lighteater, yes?

  “Correct,” Bright replied. “It is similar but opposite to Lighteater.”

  In that case, Dim, I need you to stay back. We don’t want you caught in what I intend, do we?

  “That we most certainly do not.”

  After dropping Silverblade, Raimie drew Shadowsteal and lazily strolled until he was almost nose to nose with the Enforcer. Searching those black eyes, he found no trace of humanity, only an empty husk hollowed by Doldimar and filled with Daevetch.

  A stain upon which Raimie held no claim stood to the side, smugly observing him.

  “Which aspect are you?” he asked it.

  “The one which will destroy you,” it replied.

  “It’s a piece of Death, Raimie,” the stain he named his own called from far behind.

  “Thank you, Dim! Again!”

  “I don’t understand the fuss surrounding you,” Death sniffed. “You’re infinitesimally insignificant. Why your Chaos piece insists you can right the balance, I’ll never know, just as I can’t comprehend why the whole should want a return to equilibrium. We’re close to winning, our goal finally within reach. Why we’d want you and your weakness to enforce a retreat from total victory is beyond me.”

  “Thank you for your opinion, Death,” Raimie said. “I truly wish I could change what must come next, but my wish is not to be. I’m sorry. I need you to die.”

  “What-?”

  Raimie stabbed the stain with Shadowsteal, and the Daevetch splinter had an instant to gasp in surprise before it exploded, dark shards eventually fading into nothing. A shockwave cascaded from the sword’s point, down the blade, and up Raimie’s arm, leaving it tingling. From far behind, a choking gasp burst into the Ele slowed world.

  “I’m sorry, Dim.” Raimie refused to turn to his Daevetch splinter.

  “You… you…” the stain croaked. “I knew you’d do it, but I still hoped…”

  “Me too.”

  Teeth chattered, and skin roughly chafed skin.

  “Oh, mine old enemy,” Bright murmured, “I wish I could say I’m sorry, but all I can give you is sympathy.”

  “Just… return to what you were doing, please,” the stain moaned.

  Trying to ignore the dirty feeling which crusted his skin, Raimie marched to his starting point and sheathed Shadowsteal. The Enforcer pushed his hand forwa
rd as if to throw something, and when nothing happened, he drew it to his chest, confused. After a moment, his face blanched.

  “What have you done?” he asked.

  “Defanged you, like I said,” Raimie replied. “Get out of here. Go home. If you’re lucky, Doldimar will fix you.”

  The Enforcer stumbled backward and ran away. While he watched the man grow steadily smaller, Raimie systematically packaged his disgust at what he’d done into a little box. A swell of well-being wiped the remnants from his mind.

  “Nicely done,” Nylion said, joining Raimie’s observation with arms crossed.

  Thanks, Raimie replied. I thought he’d attack before I could draw Shadowsteal. If he had, our odds against him wouldn’t have been high, considering my debilitation.

  “Sometimes we get lucky,” his other half agreed.

  Amplified by Nylion’s reciprocating emotions, such a strong surge of relief rolled through Raimie he almost fell. He needed his crutch.

  “Oswin, I’m going to assume you’re lurking nearby,” he commented.

  “You guess correctly,” Oswin remarked.

  Strolling to his elbow, the spymaster handed over the quested after item. Raimie gratefully accepted the crutch, releasing the Ele he’d used to keep pain at bay.

  “Two things,” he said with a wince. “First, I need someone to tail that Enforcer. He might lead us to Doldimar.”

  “Already done. I’m sure Little will enjoy the challenge, and he’s eager to please since Qena. Maybe we’ll get results from him this time,” Oswin replied.

  “Good thinking. Little does like his challenges.”

  “And the second thing?” Oswin asked after a brief pause.

  Raimie rounded on the spymaster, his oldest friend. Admonishing him might prove difficult.

  “We should discuss how an Enforcer entered the palace grounds without your knowledge, Oswin. That’s a serious breach of security.”

  The spymaster’s shoulders slumped, and he suddenly found his boots fascinating. “I’ve been trying to tell you, Raimie. Maybe it’s time I-”

  “So, this is where you ran off to!” a feminine voice interrupted.

  Raimie needed to blink a few times, so thrown by Auntie Kaedesa’s appearance was he. Not even a fire and attack by mob could ruffle the Queen’s calm. Somehow, she’d emerged from the disaster with perfect poise, not a hair out of place.

  “We need to talk,” she said. “Alone.”

  “I’ll get rid of mine if you get rid of yours,” Raimie replied, pointing at Pierdriel lurking behind her.

  “I hope you do not mean me,” Nylion huffed.

  Of course not, silly. I’d never get rid of you.

  “They can keep one another company again,” Kaedesa declared.

  “Oh, no! Raimie please,” Oswin begged.

  “A fantastic idea, Your Majesty!” Raimie agreed, impishly grinning at his friend.

  Abandoning the two, dejected hangers-on, they strolled alongside the cliff.

  “So… that was a travesty,” Raimie started when she refused to break the silence. “Are you hurt in any way, Your Majesty?”

  “I told you to call me by name,” she reprimanded.

  “Sorry. Kaedesa, have you come to harm?” he tried again.

  Her lips tightened, and she veered from their course, making for the cliff’s edge. Once there, she dropped to the ground, skirts poofing around her and legs dangling.

  “Join me,” she said, patting the stone beside her.

  Raimie took his time settling beside the Queen. Beneath their feet, an abandoned neighborhood spread. A short drop stood between him and it, and the irrational desire to fall into its depths lured him to the edge. He shuffled closer, only stopping when another inch would send him plummeting. Meanwhile, Nylion dangled even further, his plunge to the earth certain if he’d been real.

  “Let’s talk about the wedding,” Kaedesa began.

  Gods, but she was impatient.

  “I’d like time to heal if you don’t mind,” Raimie told her. “A month? Maybe two and we’ll be wed.”

  Kaedesa chuckled. “See? That. That’s what I want to discuss,” she muttered. “Please, Raimie. Please tell me why you delay.”

  “I’m not trying to postpone. Circumstances simply…”

  Her hand gently turned his face to her. “Raimie. Why don’t you want to marry me? The truth this time,” Kaedesa demanded.

  She forced him to meet her eyes, unwavering in her resolve. Trapped like this, he couldn’t lie. She’d recognize a mistruth in an instant. And didn’t she deserve the truth? If they were to spend their lives together, it shouldn’t be built on a lie.

  “I’m in love with someone else,” he admitted.

  Surprisingly, Kaedesa just nodded, releasing her grip on his face. “I thought as much,” she said. “It’s the half-Eselan girl, isn’t it? We’re in life-threatening danger, and you go straight for her.”

  Raimie clenched his hands together, bones painfully grinding against one another. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve tried to forget her, truly, but nothing works. When she’s not there, an empty void consistently nags at me, but as soon as she steps into the room, it’s as if lightning has struck. Suddenly, I’m drunk on life.”

  He winced. The last description probably hadn’t been necessary. It would only be salt in Kaedesa’s wounds.

  “Yes, not the smartest thing to tell her,” Nylion murmured.

  You’re not helping.

  Kaedesa flopped onto her back, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “The heart wants what it wants, Raimie,” she murmured. “Our brain may rail at the weak, fleshy thing as much as it wishes, but doing so won’t change what you desire. Trust me. I know from personal experience.”

  “How do we do this marriage, then?” Raimie asked, pointing between them.

  The raised arm collapsed, concealing Kaedesa’s face. “We don’t,” she sighed. “Wedding’s canceled, Raimie. I won’t force you into a loveless marriage, and if I'm honest, something about the arrangement never sat right with me. But I proposed it anyway, and look where it’s gotten me.”

  Suddenly, Nylion was kneeling on her other side, facing Raimie with an anxious look.

  “You cannot let Auntie cancel,” he growled.

  You think I don’t know that?!

  “Kaedesa… I need this marriage,” Raimie said. “No, that’s not right. Auden needs this marriage. We’ve not fully recovered, and honestly, Ada’ir’s support is all that keeps us afloat.”

  “I’m not suggesting we end the alliance,” Kaedesa laughed, “simply the marriage. Oh! And if you’ll occasionally allow me to serve in an advisory manner, I’d be eternally grateful.”

  “Why would you continue to offer us support?” Raimie sputtered. “What advantage does that gain you?”

  Kaedesa shot upright, glaring at him. “I can’t do so because it’s what I want?” she snapped. “I like you, Raimie, and while I haven’t yet figured out how, I know we were close in the past. I want to help you. Plus,” she grumpily crossed her arms, “helping you will give me an excuse to escape my pestering noblemen and ministers.”

  “And the real reason shows its face!” Raimie exclaimed with a laugh.

  Thank Alouin she’d given him an excuse to evade their shared past. The conversation had been awkward enough without revealing that, at one point, she’d literally acted as his aunt.

  “Oh, hush,” she said, lightly smacking his arm.

  “Thank you,” Raimie said. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

  “You keep your heart for the half-Eselan,” Kaedesa replied, smirking. “I’ll keep the gratitude. Good luck juggling her heritage with Auden’s prejudices, by the way.”

  Raimie leaned over the cliff’s edge. The empty neighborhood was a miniature play set between his feet. If he squinted hard enough, he could almost see two-toned manes bobbing between the empty houses.

  “I’m working to change that,” he murmured.
>
  “Raimie!” Oswin yelled from behind them. “Fire’s under control. They need you to explain how you broke out of a barred room.”

  Raimie groaned. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said.

  “Have fun!” Kaedesa laughed.

  He hobbled as fast as he could to join an already departing spymaster.

  “What did she want?” Oswin asked once he’d caught up.

  “She freed me,” Raimie answered.

  “What does that mean?” Oswin snapped.

  Raimie located Ren in the group waiting to be questioned by the palace guard. Their eyes met, and her face lit up, as it always did when they were together.

  “You’ll find out,” he said with a smirk.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Why does the heart betray us so? Even when we know better, it returns, like a hopeless addict, to the one person we can never have. Every time. At least it’s good for business.

  -Delia, Madam of The Innocent Angels, Misfar, Minor Principality of the Southern Kingdoms

  Someone had tried to kill them. Given that they’d survived the attempt, Eledis should be grateful he lived, but instead, the knowledge of an unknown person’s hostility rattled him to the core.

  The palace guard asked him to again describe what he’d seen and experienced while within the hall of worship, and Eledis shivered. Fire spreading like a plague. Flesh melting beneath the onslaught of liquid flame. Screaming, wild-eyed people, prepared to rend him asunder. Kaedesa too distant to reach before the mass of peasants descended upon her. Smoke building into a thick cloud, making eyes water and lungs gasp.

  “As I said, I found a corner in which to wait the chaos out,” he drawled and then coughed. “I knew the King would save us.”

  After making some notes in her journal, the palace guard snapped it closed. “Thank you for your time, Chief Minister,” she said. “We’ve prepared triage in the formal dining hall. I’d recommend a healer listen to your lungs. Your cough sounds serious.”

  Maybe if you hadn’t delayed me for so long, it would already be treated!

  Hush, now. She’s only doing her job.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Eledis rasped. “I’ll do that. Please keep me updated on the investigation.”