Conquest

by C B Samet

  She turned and entered the bird sanctuary, an expansive area of land interspersed with trees where the monks trained hawks. She spotted Zack and made a beeline for him.

  “Oh, look. For once he’s not meditating.”

  She only complained about meditation because it was one of the few talents she’d yet to fully possess.

  I followed her to Zack’s side.

  “Abigail Cross. What a pleasant surprise.” He greeted her with a slight bow of his head. Then, he raised his left arm high in the air. A giant, albino hawk swooped down and perched on the leather band around Zack’s forearm.

  Zack fed the bird a strip of raw meat. “This is Albatross. He’s quite the beauty.”

  The bird’s sharp, pink eyes contrasted his soft, snow-white feathers. I had a brief glimpse of his white claws, dripping in blood, but didn’t know what to make of the premonition.

  Annoyance rose within me at my steadily dwindling ability to see the future. Much of the help I’d provided to Abigail over the years had relied on my visions of the future. She needed more help now, not less. Orrick could see the future better than I could. Orrick surpassed me in all forms of magic. At least I had stealth.

  Abigail reached forward and stroked the bird’s breast. “He’s not offended that you’ve named him after another type of bird?”

  “Not at all. How is Carrot?”

  “She’s well. I think Paul is her favorite. If he’s out in the garden, she’ll fly to greet him.”

  Carrot was Abigail’s loyal, orange-feathered hawk that Baird had given her some years ago.

  “I’d like to give you an update on events in Marrington,” Abigail said. Her long, dark hair blew loose in the wind. She tugged a strand out of her face.

  “Baird came yesterday,” Zack said. “My understanding is that Prince Porter Stout trespassed on the serpent volcano island and the Queen needs to ascertain if this is a harbinger to war.”

  “That sums it up,” Abigail agreed. “I’m also wondering what the monks’ stance is on training others. If we return with news that the country needs to prepare for war, would a group of you be willing to come to Marrington to teach your ways of battle?”

  Zack considered her question. “The monks would need to discuss it and need to know that the Queen’s Guard would accept us. We’re sworn to protect the Aqua Santos and Crithians. It would seem to be in the interest of both to train warriors. I’m sure we’re not above joining the battle ourselves.”

  Abigail’s expression grew troubled. “I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that.”

  Zack signaled the big bird to fly from his arm. The white wingspan stretched, the wings pumped fluidly, and the bird took flight.

  “If no one thought war was possible, the Queen wouldn’t be departing for Bellos with haste.”

  Abigail might hope that conflict wasn’t cresting the horizon, but she knew in her heart that war was inevitable. She visibly carried the weight of that worry with her.

  I, too, felt the doom of war bearing down on us in the way she did—as if the coming battle could be sensed the same way a barometric pressure change, or sudden drop in temperature, preceded a storm. Much like a storm, we felt powerless to stop it.

  A war may in no way physically affect me, but it would devastate the people I cared about—Abigail, Orrick, Abigail’s children, and even the Queen.

  Queen Rebekah may not know me, but she’d been the one who first led Abigail down the path toward becoming the Avant Champion—which meant that the Queen had helped lead Abigail to me.

  Abigail gave Zack a slight bow. “Since you’re now twice informed of disturbances, I’ll leave you to your fowl training.”

  Zack folded his arms behind his back. “Oh, I can spare a few more minutes. Come, let us meditate.”

  Abigail gave me a disgruntled glance before following Zack toward the river.

  9

  ABIGAIL

  I left the monk sanctuary, returned to the castle, and found Coco alone in her office. I entered without knocking, feeling entitled to do so after the many times she’d entered my chemistry office at the university without knocking.

  “Now that we’re alone, I’m curious to hear your thoughts about the Queen going to Bellos,” I said.

  Coco sat at her office desk with Porter’s dismantled pistol before her. Her office was immaculately clean—without so much as a trinket or painting to make it personal. One wall held a glass display case with three rusty, old swords. Presumably, they’d belonged to some of her many predecessors.

  “The Queen needs to go.”

  I opened my mouth to reply but was stunned in silence. I closed it and frowned. “Beg pardon?”

  “She needs to go. As Captain of the Guard, I need to know what we’re up against. Does Bellos truly intend war, and what else are they capable of? Tarik has been useless in that regard.”

  “So, send spies—not the Queen.”

  “We don’t have time for spies. Spies take training and time to infiltrate. If the Queen goes, she’ll be inside instantly, and you’ll be able to bring her directly back here. If negotiations work, then we’ve succeeded in peace. If negotiations fail, then we’ll have more information with which to defend ourselves.”

  Negotiations would fail, but I’d already mentioned that—and it seemed to deter no one.

  “Why didn’t you send spies back when you knew Boyo betrayed us?” I asked. We’d saved the Bellosian ambassador’s life on Kovia during the plague, only discover he’d returned to Bellos to tell the King our continents were ripe for the taking.

  She arched an eyebrow at me. “I did. None have returned.”

  A chill ran down my spine.

  “Don’t you want to go with us?” I asked.

  “Part of me does, yes. But I feel reassured the Queen will be amply protected by both you and Baird—you for the strength, and Baird for his level-headed thinking.”

  I decided to let her jab go.

  “I need to stay,” Coco continued. “I need to investigate their advanced weapons.” She gestured at the pistol.

  I sat down in the chair opposite her desk and stared at the contraption. “When are you and Baird going to get back together?”

  She blinked at me.

  When she didn’t reply, I continued, “I’m sorry he got injured. We were supposed to be having a picnic on a beach, not fighting sailors.”

  “Picnic on a volcanic island,” she pointed out.

  I shrugged. “The children love that place.”

  “Doesn’t make it any less bizarre.”

  “Agreed, but bizarre is my life. I’ve accepted that.”

  She grunted.

  “Back to you and Baird,” I said.

  “He likes spending time with you.”

  “He’s got a void to fill after Joshua’s death, too. He’s done that by being a friend to my children and me. If you’d let him in, he’d fill it with you.”

  She picked up a round projectile used in the pistol and ran it between her fingertips. “He was angry with me, too, for Joshua’s death.”

  “And we’re all healed from that tragedy, now. It’s time to fill hearts with love to replace the loss.”

  After a long silence, Coco finally said, “Perhaps you’re right.”

  I stood and clapped my hands together. “Since that’s the nearest thing to an agreement we’ve ever had in our friendship, I’ll take my leave.” I walked toward the door.

  “Abigail.”

  I stopped and turned around to face her.

  “Be careful.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  I walked the perimeter of the room Natalie would stay in during my absence. A large bed with a canopy stretched beside an ornate vanity stand. A chaise lounge with plush cushions rested beside a large, paned window. Natalie would never want to come home to her small, modest room after staying here.

  I turned to see Natalie was already unpacking her chest.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I s
aid.

  “I know.” Her voice was cheerful. A holiday in the castle was a dream-come-true for her.

  I hoped to be gone no longer than a week. Diplomatic negotiations either worked, or they didn’t. If they did then we’d return brandishing success. If talks were unsuccessful, we’d return and prepare for war.

  I gazed out her window, which overlooked the stables. “Beware of castle politics. Some people feign congeniality while plotting. Some people will show you favoritism because you’re the daughter of the Avant Champion. Others will dislike you because of it.”

  “I know, Mother.”

  I cringed. I preferred the softer title of Ma-ma or Mom to the formality of Mother. “If you’re kind and generous, with a touch of caution, then eventually you’ll find yourself in the right crowd.”

  I hoped.

  “We’ve been over this.” Natalie gave an exhaustive sigh as she hung a dress in an armoire, adorned with decorative carvings that matched the vanity table.

  “Yes.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “I’m nine. I’ll be fine on my own.”

  “You will,” I agreed. I still might have Mal check on her once or twice while I was gone. She’d never spent more than a single night in the castle. The structure was enormous, the activity bustling, and the politics never-ending.

  She may love it. What if she didn’t want to come home when I returned? Would I crush her dreams and force her to spend her numbered days with me before she took the crown? A crown she didn’t yet know would be hers. If she knew the lifetime of oppressive responsibility she’d bear, would Natalie want to enjoy her childhood longer? She seemed in such a hurry to grow up. I didn’t know how to rein in her speed without strapping her with trepidation about the future.

  After I dropped Natalie at the castle and said my temporary goodbye, my next stop was Misty Isle. With Rebekah on one side and her chest of belongings on the other, we appeared at my mother’s bungalow. I knocked on the front door.

  Trad opened the door.

  “Trad!” Rebekah jumped into his arms.

  As he caught and hugged her, he looked around me, then down at the single piece of luggage. “You seem to be missing your tribe.”

  “Yes. We’re temporarily displacing everyone. Since no one could agree on where everyone should stay, all of the children are staying in different places.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Rebekah here. Natalie at the castle. Paul on the estate.”

  “I see your parental control is as unwavering as always.”

  I gave him a playful punch on the arm. Control over my children wasn’t something I’d ever claimed to have. “I think it will be an opportunity to build character for all of them.”

  “Ah. And how long is said character-building event?”

  “I wouldn’t expect more than a week.”

  He turned with a snort and carried Rebekah inside the house.

  I lifted the luggage and followed. “What was that for?”

  “Your anticipated duration of an activity and the actual length rarely align.”

  I frowned. “Not rarely.”

  “Seldom.”

  “Occasionally. Anyway, is Mom around?”

  “She and Bellok went to the fish market. They should be back soon.”

  While I put Rebekah’s trunk in the children’s room, she entertained herself with one of the wooden puzzles my mother kept for them.

  When I joined Trad in the kitchen, he’d made a pot of orange ginger tea and handed me a steaming cup.

  I took it and inhaled the wisps of moisture swirling from the surface. “Thank you. One of your blends?”

  Trad had developed a business in herbs, ointments, and herbal teas. He’d had taken some of the natural remedies he’d learned during the times he’d worked with my late husband and had become the island’s apothecary.

  “Do you like it?”

  I sipped. “Delightful. Maybe if we bring a trunkful of tea to diplomatic negotiations with Bellos, they’ll agree to peacefully coexist.”

  “So, that’s why you’re leaving, and the children are being scattered? Trouble abroad?” He leaned against the wooden counter and sipped his tea, long brown bangs falling into his eyes.

  “Trouble on our doorstep,” I confirmed. The volcano island existed near enough to Crithos that I considered it our doorstep.

  “Well, with your luck, you’ll bring them tea and they’ll turn out to be coffee drinkers.”

  I laughed. “You’re probably right.” I batted my eyelashes. “I suppose I’ll have to resort to using my charms.”

  He dropped his chin to his chest. “Crithos is surely doomed.”

  I waved a hand at him. “Shush, you.”

  “You can use your charms on me,” Mal purred as he dissolved into the room.

  I shot him a look and ignored the way his deep voice danced along my spine. I was pleased to see him. I’d been so busy these last days we hadn’t spent much time together.

  Bellok and Nadine, my mom, entered the kitchen. After setting my tea down, I greeted them with hugs.

  “This is a pleasant surprise. Where are the children?” Mom asked.

  “Rebekah’s in the children’s room. Natalie is sojourning at the castle. Paul is staying at home.”

  “Oh.”

  “Mutiny,” Trad added.

  Mal grinned.

  I picked my tea back up. “I need to take a trip to Bellos—don’t look worried. We’ll star travel there and back. But negotiations may take a while.”

  “Negotiations?” Bellok asked.

  I nodded. “I had a run in with your brother, Prince Porter Stout, when he landed on Mulan. He’s after the scepter. In addition, there are rumors of anti-Crithian propaganda in Bellos. The Queen fears King Artemis intends to conquer us.”

  Mal arched an eyebrow. “They don’t know about your vision?”

  They didn’t, and I didn’t answer Mal.

  Bellok ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “Porter.”

  “Your youngest brother, I presume.”

  He gave a pursed lip nod. “He was so young when I set sail for Crithos, he wouldn’t remember me.”

  “And you’re going to negotiate?” Bellok asked.

  “Not me, per se. The Queen will negotiate, and I’m her protection.”

  My mom’s brow furrowed. “Will negotiations work?”

  “No,” Mal replied.

  I shot him a look before answering her question. “They have to, Mom. They’ve weapons like I’ve never seen before—projectiles that launch as fast as I can star travel. Those, in the hands of an army, would plough us down.” I didn’t need to add that I no longer had Joshua to heal me.

  Mom’s face paled.

  I glanced at Mal, whose expression turned grave. If I could neither outmaneuver their weapons, nor heal myself, what chance did we have if we went to war? He averted his eyes to the floor.

  I asked my mom, “Can Rebekah stay here until I’m back?”

  “Of course, Abigail.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I’ll go say goodbye.”

  After saying goodbye to Rebecca, I returned home where Orrick had gathered Paul, Raven, and Cook Mo in the study.

  “Thank you everyone for coming.” I reviewed events for Mo’s benefit—with the Prince’s arrival, and my plans to accompany the Queen. “Natalie is staying at the castle, and Rebecca will be with my mom. Paul will remain here with Orrick. I hope all of you will help look after him.”

  Paul crossed his arms. “I can look after myself.”

  “Of course, you can. They’re just here to help—and it will only be for a few days.” This was different though, because I’d never been away overnight since Joshua’s passing, and I’d never spread the children out. Spending a few days apart from each other may even be a building block in their sibling relationships. I’d decided to see this separation as positive and not negative.

  “We’re buddies,” Mo replied. “We’ll have a good time. Maybe w
e’ll even prepare a surprise feast for when everyone returns home.”

  “I’d like that.” I think the last feast we’d had was some months ago, when we’d celebrated Winter Festival. We’d decorated the yard with bioluminescent algae and green-flamed lanterns.

  “Mo, I’ve updated all of the staff members I’ve seen, but if I’ve left anyone out, please ask them to carry on and we’ll all return in few days.”

  “Yes, m’lady.”

  I nodded and sat down on the floor before Paul. “I’m counting on you to keep an eye on this place.”

  He nodded.

  Mo and Orrick rose and left us to each other. Mal and Raven stayed.

  “Phobus probably needs to be ridden at least once so he doesn’t get rusty.”

  He nodded again, then pointed at Mal. “Is he going with you, or staying here?”

  “Mal’s with me. Everybody needs a sidekick, right? Raven’ll be your sidekick while I’m gone.”

  She grunted. “Or maybe you’ll be mine.”

  Paul grinned.

  I stroked Fury’s fur as we sat together for a moment in silence.

  “What’s Mal do anyway? He can’t touch anything.”

  “Imagine if you could travel anywhere you wanted to, and only a few people could see and hear you. You could watch anybody you wanted to watch, and they’d never know you were there.”

  “Oh.” Paul’s voice held awe.

  “He’s going to be an extra pair of eyes and ears to watch and listen for danger for me.”

  “Okay. Does he know how to fight?”

  “He does.” Mal in his Malos form was a formidable fighter, but I’d also seen a memory of Isabel Dallik’s in which young Orrick and Malakai practiced with swords.

  “I want to learn to fight.”

  A lump formed in my stomach. “Why?”

  “You keep leaving and fighting, and I’ve seen you practice with Baird. I want to learn.”

  “I leave and fight to make the world better for my children, not so you’ll have to fight too.”

  “But maybe you can’t do it alone. Maybe you need help. I want to help. What if the fighting comes here?”