Mastering the Elements: Elwin Escari Chronicles: Volume 2

by David Ekrut

  As soon as they were through the gates of Shallow Shores, the letter of her deal with Landryn would be met, and they would part ways. But then again, if the guards arrested them for beggars, they could be tried for thieves and lose a hand. She would help find an abandoned house before leaving and take no further arguments about them not being safe. With any luck, she could find Coin before the counterfeiter left for Churwood, and she could find her own escape from this war. Then, she would collect her bounty from the Lenders in Norscelt. They would take a bit longer to pay out, but they would honor the deal made by their brethren in Alcoa, even if the building was no longer there. From what she’d heard, there was a strong probability that it was not.

  Once the others were down the ladder, Jesnia waded to the shore with Britonya not far behind. She heard the sloshing steps of Landryn hurrying to catch her.

  “Do you think you can give a few more lessons with the dagger before you leave us?”

  From her periphery, Jesnia could feel Britonya’s stare as she said, “No. After I see you safely into your new home, I’ll need to be about my business. If Coin is still in the city, I need to catch her. If not, I need to track her trail before it grows cold.”

  “I understand. Wait. After we find a home?”

  “Aye. And I won’t take you a step farther. Do you hear?”

  “Yes.” Landryn smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. We had a deal. You can’t argue that I haven’t held up my end.”

  “No. You are right. You’ve held up your end. I agree.”

  “I can’t keep them safe forever. They are your charges. Not mine. I’m just honoring the letter of our deal. You understand, of course.”

  “Yes, I do.” Again with his smirk.

  Jesnia pushed ahead. She stepped onto the shore and picked their path as the rest of them wrung the water from their clothes. Once they were ready, she led them into the forest.

  Britonya kept stride with her, dodging brambles and thorns as though she’d done this before.

  “How old are you?” Jesnia asked her.

  “Six.”

  Dragons take her for asking, but she wanted to know, “What happened to your parents?”

  “Father’s dead. Hanged for being a lord. Mother was taken by Bain.”

  “Why?”

  Britonya shrugged.

  “You come from southern Alcoa, then?”

  “Adderton.”

  “How did you make your way to Benridge?”

  “Landy.”

  “That’s what the small ones call me,” Landryn said, coming up on the other side of Jesnia.

  “Yes. I’ve heard them.”

  Jesnia pushed through two copses of thickets, using the narrow passage to get ahead of them. She needed to be alone. It was difficult to make a plan for Coin with kids talking at her all the time. But as soon as Britonya was through the thickets, she ran to catch Jesnia.

  Hoping to get some breathing room, Jesnia set a hard pace. Landryn picked up on the hint and fell behind to keep an eye on the others. Britonya didn’t relent, keeping up with Jesnia with the tenacity only small children possessed. But the girl was quiet. In truth, she only spoke when spoken to. After about an hour, the trees thinned. Across a short field of tall grass, there was a train of wagons, moving north along the cobbled road. If she hurried, she could catch the front of the caravan before it passed.

  “Get them to the road and wait for me,” she told Landryn. “I want to speak with the merchants to see if they have word from the south.”

  Landryn raised an eyebrow. “There is no way anyone outpaced us on that speedway. Most likely, we are the ones with the news.”

  “Aye. The speedway saved us time, but pigeons could still beat us, and we went on foot for several days. If you’ll recall, plenty of riders sped past us. Just wait on the road.”

  As she turned to go, she saw Britonya on her heels. Curse it all, this was going to be a problem. She looked at the girl, then gave Landryn a meaningful stare. The prat only shrugged.

  Jesnia knelt to eye-level with the girl. “I’m going to need you to stay with Landy. Okay?”

  She’d expected the girl to cry or pout. Instead, Britonya gripped the hilt of the dagger on her belt and lifted her chin. “I’m going with you.”

  Jesnia stood, cast another glare at Landryn, and strongly considered putting an arrow in him for that thumping smirk.

  “Well,” Jesnia said at last. “You are your own person. I can’t tell you what to do.”

  She spun on her heel and marched across the field. Halfway, she had a sudden urge to run, but forced herself to continue walking. There was no danger here. In fact, running would put the armed guard around the merchant’s train on alert. As of yet, only a few of them had noticed her. Those who had glanced in this direction, watched Landryn and his ducklings with more interest than they did Jesnia and her new pint-sized shadow.

  Jesnia aimed for the front of the caravan, picking out the wealthiest dressed merchant.

  “Hail,” she called. “A word?”

  The woman slowed her wagon but did not stop. Her shrewd eyes took in Jesnia in a glance and lingered on Britonya.

  “The wilderness is no place for a child.”

  “Neither is the city,” Jesnia said, annoyed at the accusation in the woman’s tone. “Do you have news of Benridge? When we left, it was under attack.”

  “Aye. Well, it’s destroyed now. Donavin came in with his undead and took the city within a day or so.”

  “Donavin?”

  “Bain Solsec’s eldest son and most ruthless commander. He took over the south early in the war. The Alcoans were no match for those skeletal warriors. You saw them?”

  “I did,” Jesnia said, “but how could he control the undead without taming the Death Element?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. We didn’t stop to ask questions. Lucky for us, we had been preparing for a run to Shallow Shores days before the attack. My home, shop, and warehouse are gone, but the bulk of my stores are in these wagons.”

  “You plan to set up in Shallow Shores then?”

  “Nay. From what we’ve heard, Donavin is coming here next. I plan to go farther north. I’ve a brother in the Isles of Maards. If you’ve any wits, you’ll get out of Alcoa while you can.” She urged her horses onward.

  Jesnia stepped to the side of the road and let the wagons pass. Feeling Britonya’s gaze, she looked down at the girl. She said nothing and everything with her expression. There was no expectation, only a mixture of hope and fear.

  “Come on,” she muttered, “Let’s get the others.”

  Once they rejoined, Landryn asked, “Have they heard anything?”

  “Benridge is gone. Shallow Shores is next.”

  Landryn frowned but said nothing.

  “Dragons take me,” Jesnia said, pulling some coins from her purse and shoving them at Landryn. “Get some supplies and take the ducklings north of Shallow Shores and wait for me near the road.”

  “Where are you going?” he called after her.

  “To see about Coin,” she yelled over her shoulder.

  As she ran, she couldn’t say for certain whether she was chasing Coin or fleeing Britonya’s hope-filled face.

  Chapter 35

  Half Truths and Small Mercies

  Anetia,

  Do you honestly believe my actions to be immoral, or are you simply trying to win the old debate? It is difficult to discern your intonation from a distance. Regardless, your arguments completely lack any logical principles and come from a place of internalized beliefs. Is it immoral to take the life of one innocent to save two others? Ten others? All of the magi?

  This is still the fundamental question which you have avoided addressing. Words such as “feel” do not factor into the discussion. Emotional respon
ses are for inferior minds. Should I move my pieces on the Wakening Board based on how I feel about each of my units? Of course not. I should make careful sacrifices to take me closer to victory. Give me valid moral arguments against my course.

  ~R., 2996 A.S.

  ~

  Zarah’s eyes opened to a large shadow soaring over her.

  She could not move. Her body would not respond to her urgings. Her legs and back ached. Keeping her eyes open took every ounce of strength remaining to her. She could still feel her essence, pitiful and shrunken, just beside her.

  The sinewy figure slithered across the sky, circling the castle like a buzzard around a carcass. Its massive head swiveled as if searching for something. Her, she realized.

  She wanted to get up and hide, but she could not will her muscles so much as twitch. Worse, she felt her eyes closing and could not stop them.

  Warmth washed over her. She opened her eyes to white clouds above. The sun had teleported across the sky. It was almost evening. In a panic, she reached for her essence and almost cried aloud to find it still there, albeit mostly drained.

  Why had the dragon not stolen her essence? It must not have known she was the one who had tamed. Was it because her essence was drained? Or had it simply come too late to discover one person taming in a city this size? Whatever the reason, she thanked the Lifebringer for his mercies.

  Then she remembered Feffer. They had both fallen from a decent height. She took several deep breaths and turned toward the tree that had broken their fall. He laid against its trunk. Dried blood matted crimson hair to his battered face.

  Turning on hands and knees, she crawled over to him.

  His chest rose and fell in long steady breaths. She moved beside him and propped her head up against his.

  “I will never admit this aloud again, but,” she took a deep breath, “I should have listened to Father.”

  Feffer’s low voice said, “Told you so.”

  “Did not.”

  “Oh. Well, I should have.”

  She turned her head to look at him. He met her gaze. She could see his concern for her. A soldier for his daughter-heir, of course. Feffer was a good soldier.

  “No,” he said, at last. “If you had not come, I would be as dead as the others. And for all we know, the same fate has befallen Justice. After all, the guardians were very outspoken before we left.”

  “We just spoke to Father the other day on the sending rod,” Zarah said. “He did not mention any troubles.”

  “You are months away from home. Why would he worry you over events beyond your reach?”

  “He would not. The rod?” she asked, knowing his answer.

  “Gone. We cannot check on him or our home.”

  “You seem to hold few qualms about the fate of our kingdom.”

  “Just being practical,” he said. “For all we know, Zaak could be hiding in a cave, sending his missives. We cannot make plans based on what is happening at home.”

  “After what has happened, you still wish to press forward?”

  “Aye. Of course. Those heartblades are still our only hope, right? We need to learn how to use the one we have and get more if we can. That is the only way to save our people.”

  She considered telling him about her Vision. If they went for the weapons, they would both die. Or maybe it was Elwin’s fault. In the dream that was not a dream, Feffer had been shot in the eye during Elwin’s battle with the strangers. If she could keep Feffer away from Elwin, she could keep him from being killed. And maybe herself.

  “You alright?” Feffer asked, jarring her from her thoughts.

  “Yes. We need to go for the heartblades. And I know where we should look, but we will need the help of the king.”

  He sat up and turned to face her. “You found the Melcoa estate?”

  “No, but I had a Vision. There are two heartblades in Abadaria and manuscripts on how to use them, or so it appeared.”

  “The ruins you were telling me about? Where Faragand the Red died?”

  “Yes. All those dragon aeries, it could not be anywhere else. And there is something else.” She watched the expression in his eyes deepen as she said, “I can no longer see the immediate future. The Vision drained my essence.”

  “Do you think the ability is gone?”

  “I do not know. If it does return, it will likely take several tendays without taming. After my essence is full.”

  He sat up straighter as if remembering. “You tamed. What in the abyss were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking that I needed to save my only soldier from those guardians, and taming was the only way to do it.”

  “You could have been killed.”

  “Had I done nothing,” she countered, “you would have been killed.”

  “How did a dragon not come for you?”

  “One did. It could not find me.”

  “Lucky.”

  “I do not believe in luck. The Lifebringer is watching over us.” That was what her Vision meant. It was a warning. She could keep them both safe because of it.

  “Whatever you want to call it, taming was foolish. Look what it got Elwin.”

  “Next time, I will just let them hang you.”

  “You should. It would be a mercy to be out from beneath your princess’s bony thumb.”

  “My thumbs are not bony. And I told you not to call me that.”

  “It was a might more respectful than the first word that came to mind.”

  She threw her hands up in mock surprise. “Well the Lifebringer be praised that Feffer Hanck Madrowl can show a smidgen of restraint. I suppose you want a medal?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. And a pay increase. Putting up with such a royal prat deserves the highest esteem and accommodations.”

  “Prat, am I? Well, you, Elite Guardian Madrowl are a wort—”

  “Ahem,” a voice coughed, not for the first time she realized. Now that she was paying attention, the sound had been made at least four or five times.

  She turned to see a dozen Alcoan guards standing just alongside the brick path leading from the garden. Feffer stood hastily and placed himself in front of her. Rolling her eyes, she climbed to her feet and pushed him aside. He frowned at her, but for once, held his tongue.

  “Pardon,” Zarah said with a slight curtsey. “I am Zarah Lifesong, daughter-heir of Justice. I need to speak with King Thirod Alcoa. My business is of dire importance.”

  The man in the lead, a captain by the honors on his cloak, stepped forward with the hint of a smirk on his lips. “Aye. We heard. I think the guardians beyond our high walls may know your urgent business as well.”

  Zarah lifted her head. “You can take us to the king, then?”

  “Do you have proof of your identity?”

  She held out her hand, letting him see her signet ring.

  He bowed, the mirth still showing in his eyes. “You are well-met, daughter-heir of Justice. If you do not mind my saying, you and your man look the worse for wear.”

  She nodded. “We fought with the guardians.”

  “We can offer little in the way of healing, but do you wish to see visit the infirmary before calling upon His Highness?”

  “No. If there is time, we will do so afterwards. Can we go now?”

  “Please follow me.”

  “Thank you.” She gestured for him to lead.

  When they reached the brick pathway, the Alcoan guards fell into step around them. The narrow passage wound through intricate gardens to another high wall. Looking up, she realized she had found her way to the palace grounds.

  Feffer walked beside her, instead of behind as was customary in these circumstances. He was announcing himself as her equal, which could only be the case if they were betrothed. She leaned in to tell him to walk behind, but the captain held up a
fist for them to stop at the crossroads.

  “This side of the main wall is typically safe,” the captain explained, “but we’ve caught a few of the guardian’s warders scouting our grounds.”

  “We have dealt with them in Justice as well,” Feffer said. “Stealthy bastards.”

  Zarah cast him a warning look, to which he scrunched his forehead in that confounded expression he made when he knew she was trying to tell him something but he completely missed her meaning.

  “Yes,” she said, regaining control of the situation. “What my guard says is true. We have fought these men in our castle, and they were promptly killed for their brazen acts of treason.”

  “Right. Well,” the captain said, walking to an iron door, “it appears to be clear.” He knocked seven times in a varied pattern. The passage opened to a vast hall lit by ever-torches. Before entering, he turned to the soldiers and said, “Return to your posts.”

  They saluted and dispersed, jogging back the way they had come in pairs.

  “This is not the main entrance to the palace,” Feffer noted as they stepped into the hallway.

  “No,” the captain said. “It is not. We vary which doors we use. The rotation changes by the hour and is made new every three days.”

  “Is the guardian’s might truly so great?” Zarah asked.

  “With our soldiers confined to the castle, large swaths of the city are in anarchy and looking for leadership. The guardian’s influence over these areas is growing as the king’s wanes. It is only a matter of days before they form an assault. Do not worry, highness. We may not have the Elements, but our walls hold a few surprises for the enemy.”

  Zarah only nodded. The guardians were winning hearts and minds by the day. Saving Feffer with the Elements had likely created the same effects as hanging him would have.

  The way opened to another garden. Statues of long-dead kings and queens were positioned around a green field as if dancing or speaking with one another. Plaques gave details of each monarch’s reign. Seeing all of these statues reminded her of the grand courtyard back home. Alcoa was nearly three thousand years old. The scholarly part of her wanted to slow down and study the epitaphs depicting such a long and gracious history, but the captain did not slow. He marched up to a modest door and stopped. A similar series of knocks gained entry to a stairwell.