by Erin Rhew
“So, how did you find this other Fulfillment girl?”
He sighed. “Now, that’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
She wrestled with the bed sheets, snuggling underneath them to signal her intent to stay. When his chin bumped the side of her temple, she knew a grin spread across his face. Samson always did love a captive audience.
“The last time I saw you, the Elder had pulled you up onto that stage and proclaimed you the Fulfillment. As soon as he got what he wanted, the Ecclesiastics threw me in the back of a carriage and headed toward their compound, but they didn’t even chain me. Who doesn’t restrain a Vanguard? Someone who wants to get killed, that’s who.” He chuckled, but Layla grew still. Just the mention of the meddling Elder Werrick boiled her blood. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down.
“What is it?”
“I hate Elder Werrick.” She hissed his name like a curse. “I’m certain he sent you off in the carriage without securing you first because he wanted you to escape.”
Samson’s hand tightened around her shoulder. Such an intense grip would hurt an Ethereal.
“What do you mean? Why would he want me to escape?”
She scooted back enough to look at him. “He took you to force me to come to Etherea. He used your life as a bargaining tool.”
“And once he had you, he didn’t need me anymore,” Samson finished. “I could have killed those Ecclesiastics when I escaped. He had to have known that.”
“He didn’t care.”
“Well, luckily for those men, I didn’t kill them. Instead, I tied them to trees on the road to their compound. For all I know, they’re still there.”
Even though laughing didn’t quite seem appropriate, she succumbed at the image of men in purple and black robes attached to a tree. Surely someone, perhaps even the Elder himself, had found and released them. Any reverence she once held for the Ecclesiastics disappeared after her encounter with Elder Werrick. Now, fair or not, she despised them all.
Samson continued, “Once I escaped, I took a horse from the carriage, stole a black robe off one of the Ecclesiastics, and headed toward their compound to find answers.”
“You did what?” Layla sat up so fast her head swam. “Are you crazy? Why would you go the very place where you were being taken as a prisoner?”
Samson smirked. “Maybe I am crazy, but I thought I might be able to the find information about the Prophecy there. Once I made it into the Borderlands, I rode right into the Ecclesiastical compound. Oh, I wish you could have been there to see it.” His gaze focused on the ceiling, a faraway look spreading across his face. “There are fifteen monstrous gray buildings—the biggest, ugliest things you’ve ever seen—and hundreds of men in black robes bustling back and forth between them. I felt like I was in a life-sized version of those ant colonies we used to destroy as kids.”
“I still can’t believe you went to the Borderlands…to the Ecclesiastical compound of all places.” Layla settled down on a pillow beside him. “Well, on second thought, I can believe it. You’re always getting into trouble.”
“You know me.” He waggled his eyebrows. “The good thing about the Ecclesiastics is everyone wears a black robe all the time, so no one noticed me milling about. I went anywhere I wanted.” He faltered.
“What?” Her stomach twisted as she anticipated his words. Only one thing in the compound could cause her affable brother this much distress.
“I saw the other Prophecy candidates.” His lashes fluttered shut. “Thank the First Ones Elder Werrick didn’t take you there for testing.”
She gazed up at him, wide-eyed. “Tell me.”
“Some were scarred, some disfigured, some burned.” He shuddered. “They reached out to me, crying for food and water as I walked by. First Ones…” Samson pressed his lips against her hair, his breath coming out in ragged puffs. “If you’d been taken to the compound…”
The possibility of what could have been rendered them speechless. Layla tried to imagine the scene Samson described. As much as she’d hated putting those drops in her eyes, hiding their true color, she finally understood why her parents insisted. The rumors—the terrible stories of what happened to Prophecy candidates—were all true.
“How did the other girl—”
“Mia. Her name is Mia.”
“Fine. How did Mia escape the Ecclesiastics’ notice?”
“Same as you, I would imagine.”
Layla didn’t quite believe the explanation, but she didn’t push him. She noted his strong attachment to their prisoner and couldn’t trust him to be objective.
“One day, I’m going to free those people.” His whole body grew rigid. Anger rippled off him, rolling onto her. “The Ecclesiastics have already proclaimed you the Fulfillment, so they have no reason to continue torturing innocents. I couldn’t find a way to get them out while I was there, but I will…soon.”
“You were gone a long time.” Layla redirected the conversation to draw him away from his morose thoughts. She hated to see him upset. “Were you with the Ecclesiastics most of the time?”
“No. I only stayed there for a little while. After what I saw, I couldn’t stomach much more time among those people.”
“So where did you go?”
He relaxed, his previous tension replaced with his normal ease. “To Volton.”
“Volton?” Her eyes popped open in surprise. Once again, Samson’s tenacity amazed her. But the idea of her brother—who avoided learning at all costs—standing in the epicenter of knowledge made her grin.
“Sure, why not. I already saw the Ecclesiastical compound; why not check out their neighbors in Volton Village too?”
“Did you see Mother and Father?”
His face softened. “Yes, they are well and send their love.”
Thinking of Volton Mars, she asked, “What’s it like there?”
“Volton Village reminded me of our little Medlin. The men in the Village live spread out on a large farm, tended to by Voltons studying plants, animals, and the land.”
A smile spread across Layla’s lips as she thought of Medlin, the town where she and Samson had grown up. She hadn’t expected Volton to resemble her hometown. “I thought Voltons were teachers and physicians.”
Samson tapped her shoulder. “Finally. For once in my life I know something you don’t.”
She struggled to ignore his jest while a part of her envied his adventures. As children, they’d crawl in bed at night and whisper about traveling to distant lands. Now Samson had…without her.
“Allow me to educate you, little sister. All Voltons are devoted to the pursuit of knowledge in one of five branches—medical, instruction, research, black arts, and kingdom. They have five wings inside the main building, one dedicated to each branch. I spent most of my time with a Volton named Holt who studied black arts. I thought he could tell me more about the First Ones and the Prophecy, but he was pretty secretive. That’s one of the most frustrating things about the Voltons; they don’t tell you anything. I could never be that cryptic.”
“Don’t tell me you actually considered staying and becoming a Volton.”
“What?” His mouth dropped open in mock anger. “I would have made a really great Volton.” Layla shook her head at the ludicrous idea. Samson winked and continued, “To become a Volton, or an Ecclesiastic for that matter, I would be required to give up my powers and renounce my kingdom. Something to do with the whole ‘remaining neutral’ thing, but I could never do that. Besides, I couldn’t become a Volton because I had a mission to save my sister, who managed to get herself in a whole heap of trouble.”
Samson never passed on an opportunity to tease her. She suppressed a sigh and continued with the topic at hand. “I guess it makes sense they would ask you to do that before joining. I mean having powers or allegiance could affect their ability to remain detached.”
“I guess so.” He shrugged, the gesture bobbing her head up and down against his arm.
“After a while, I left and headed to the Outlands. I figured if the Voltons wouldn’t provide me with information, I’d just have to go find out on my own. Volton Holt said I shouldn’t go, but he refused to give me a solid reason why. So, I went anyway. It took me two full days to get there from the Borderlands. I don’t think I ever knew they were that far away. ”
Layla calculated the Outlands required a five to seven day ride, due south, from the Ethereal castle. “Me either. It’s probably why we know so little about them.”
“It was dark when I arrived in the woods outside of the Outlander city, so I decided to camp out and wait until morning. When I woke up and went down the river to wash up, I saw her.” His voice took on a strange, dreamlike quality.
“Her…you mean Mia.” To Layla’s surprise, her statement sounded clipped. She didn’t feel jealous but still worried for her brother.
“Yes, Mia. When I saw her, I knew I’d finally found a way to free you.”
Layla shifted, no longer comfortable resting on Samson. Everything about Mia felt wrong. The girl, who looked so much like Layla, just happened to be where Samson could find her and came with him to the home of her enemy without any resistance? Whole generations of Ecclesiastics searched for entire lifetimes and never found the Fulfillment, yet Samson encountered two potentials in short succession. She couldn’t pinpoint the reason for her unease, but something tickled the back of her mind, inching toward the surface with painstaking sluggishness.
“I don’t understand why she would just come with you to Etherea.” Layla struggled to keep her voice level and calm to avoid raising Samson’s hackles.
“She didn’t have anywhere else to go. Vance killed her family in Vanguard.”
Layla made a mental note to confirm Samson’s version of the story with the information Nash managed to extract from Mia. “If she’s a Vanguard, why would she come with you to Etherea?”
“You came here,” Samson shot back, his inexplicable protectiveness for the mystery girl heightening her concern.
She treaded with care. “Well, some insane man in a black and purple robe stole my brother, so I didn’t really have a choice.”
Samson relaxed. His laughter bounced off the walls and surrounded them in its warmth. She allowed herself to admit just how much she’d missed him, a feeling she’d kept suppressed in order to survive the pain of it.
“I’ve missed you so much.”
He pressed his cheek hard against her forehead. “I missed you too.”
“Promise me something.” He didn’t answer. “Promise me you’ll be careful with Mia. We don’t know anything about her.”
“Promise me you’ll give her a chance. She really does have a good heart.”
The words lingered between them. Neither promised to do what the other asked, their stubborn Vanguard pride preventing it.
Chapter Six
Layla
The next morning, Layla glanced around the meeting room table—Nash, Queen Sansolena, King Rex, Volton Mars, Grant, and Samson. With Ethereals, Vanguards, and a Volton gathered together to solve problems like Mia and Vance, she could almost believe in the Prophecy and the possibility of peace. Nash had been wise to call this meeting, but she still wished Wil could join them.
“Let’s start with the most obvious problem.” Nash’s voice rose above the chatter. All attention focused on him. “Vance, he attacked the palace, killed our king, and wounded our prince. His crimes cannot go unanswered.”
King Rex cleared his throat before speaking. “My son Vance is young and stupid, but he is not rash. He always accused me of riding off into battle with no plan of action. Since he liked to harp on strategy so much, I think we can safely assume he has retreated back to Vanguard to plan his next move. He now knows I have joined the Ethereal side as have a substantial number of my men. That shift in power should keep him at bay for a little while as he regroups.”
Grant held up a finger. “Speaking of our men, sir. Many are uncomfortable lodging with the Ethereal soldiers they once fought openly in the fields. Remember, all Vanguards grow up with horror stories about Ethereal mind tricks. That’s a difficult adjustment to make in just a few days.”
Queen Sansolena leaned forward. “We have a second, heavily fortified castle a few miles from here, for the royal family should this one fall. The Vanguards can stay there.” She turned to Rex. “Your soldiers should be comfortable, and they will be away from our soldiers for the time being.”
Nash glanced at Layla. His gaze searched her and sought her input. She smiled, pleased and surprised he chose to consult her on this matter. Trying to think as Wil would, she contemplated the situation. An idea rose in her mind, one she hoped fostered a spirit of unity.
“I think we need to run training sessions with the two groups together. If we are going to successfully wage war against Vance, we need everyone working as a cohesive unit.”
Underneath the table, he placed a warm hand over hers and squeezed. The familiar electricity between them didn’t spark. Where had it gone? She hadn’t felt it with Wil or Nash since the battle. What did that mean? She glanced up to find Nash staring down at the table, in the exact spot their hands joined. He glanced at her with a furrowed brow. She shrugged just as King Rex spoke.
“I will see to it that the men are moved. Grant, I’d like you to work with them, to help change their perception of the Ethereals, and begin training the two groups together.”
Grant nodded his assent. “Yes, sir.” Layla frowned, noting the dark circles under her brother’s eyes. She knew he spent every spare moment with the still-altered Vespa since King Jesper used his advanced Alteration power to reach into his daughter’s mind and rip out her memories one by one. She shuddered. Alterations, so brutal and barbaric in the wrong hands, ruined lives. But then she thought about how Wil struggled with the morality of his ability and knew not all who wielded power abused it.
Though they had all hoped for an immediate recovery when Jesper died, the princess remained the same, while Layla watched her brother sink deeper into despair. She couldn’t imagine what would become of Grant if the true Vespa never returned.
The queen pulled Layla’s attention back to the discussion. “Nash, we also need to discuss the Ethereal people. Many saw Rex and his men fight by our side against Vance, but like what happened with our soldiers, one battle cannot erase generations of prejudice and fighting. We need to tell them Vance overthrew his father and Rex has now joined us.”
“Should we tell the people the truth about my parentage?” Layla caught the vulnerability in Nash’s voice.
“Not yet, son. They need to believe a full-blooded Ethereal is at the head of the kingdom right now, but we do need to begin disseminating the information about the defection of Rex and his soldiers. We also need to outfit the Vanguard soldiers with Ethereal fighting gear.” Rex made a grunt of displeasure. The queen set her mouth as she faced him. “Rex, I know that your men will balk, but it’s the only way our people will be able to distinguish your men from Vance’s.”
Layla opened her mouth and closed it, uncomfortable interrupting the queen and the former Vanguard king. In spite of her misgivings on propriety, Layla reconsidered and decided to voice her opinion. “We should also decree that the laws regarding Alterations apply to King Rex’s men as well as regular Ethereals.”
Again, Nash touched her hand under the table. “Agreed.”
The lack of electric flow between them distracted Layla. She glanced down at their intertwined fingers as she had before, perplexed. When the buzzing existed, its presence often disturbed and confused her but not quite as much as its absence did now. Queen Sansolena had said the current proclaimed Layla the Fulfillment. Without it, who was she? Could the girl Samson defended so vehemently be the Fulfillment instead?
“I will make sure the information about the Alterations gets out.” Volton Mars bent over a piece of paper, his hand flying across the page.
Queen Sansolena gave Nash and Layla pointed lo
oks. “I also believe Nash and Layla should address our people in two days’ time. Ethereals need to know what happened to Jesper and Wil before rumors grow out of control. We also must reassure them that the kingdom’s affairs are in order and that the new Vanguards can be trusted. Are you willing to do that?”
“Yes.” They agreed in unison.
Rex covered the queen’s small hand with his larger one, in plain view of everyone at the table. “We can’t expect this situation to resolve itself overnight. But in time, I think our two sides can learn to peacefully co-exist, especially once I reclaim the throne. Etherea will have a friend in Vanguard always.”
“You mean to return after Vance is defeated?” Sansolena’s free hand fluttered to her chest as she drew in a deep breath.
“I will unless I have a reason to stay.” The queen placed her hand on top of Rex’s, three hands stacked together.
As Nash cleared his throat, Layla noticed a hint of pink in his cheeks. He must be embarrassed by his parent’s behavior, but she found it romantic. With all the pain Queen Sansolena had endured—the death of her brutal husband, the loss of Vespa behind a veil of childish youth, and the suspended sleep of her younger son—Layla hoped the older woman found some measure of happiness with her lost love. Nash’s fingers swept across her hand once more, and he smiled. Her own flush crept up in reaction to his intensity. Layla looked away.
A Vanguard soldier pushed open the meeting room doors, interrupting the moment, and rushed toward the table. He bowed toward Nash, Layla, Sansolena, and then Rex. Layla sat back in her chair, amazed at the deference shown toward her.
“King Rex,” the man bowed again, “I have urgent news from our informer within Vance’s army.”
He placed the rolled up piece of paper in the former Vanguard king’s hand. Bowing, the servant backed out the door. Rex snatched it up, unrolled it, and read the contents. Everyone at the table watched, their breaths suspended. The Vanguard king frowned and rubbed his hand across his face.