Jace had never been one to give in, not without exhausting all angles. So he had watched and waited for the chance. When an opening arose and he finally managed to corner Narine in private, things had not gone as planned.
He had done his best to charm the princess and appeared to be winning her over a bit each day, despite Adyn’s obvious interference. She simply didn’t understand Jace’s ability to overcome obstacles. Finally, on the fifth evening after leaving Fastella, opportunity arose.
With the party camped in a cluster of trees beside a creek, Jace had wandered off in the darkness and noticed a yellow glow drifting past, dozens more beyond it. Tracking the nearest flickering light, he snatched the bug from the air, trapping it between two cupped palms. The amber, flickering firelight through the trees guided him back to camp, passing Salvon and Rawk as they dug through the old man’s cart. Across the fire, Adyn and Rhoa shared a private conversation, the two of them focused on each other. That left Narine sitting alone, staring into the fire. Jace sat beside the princess and opened his hands to reveal a small beetle, its tail pulsing with a glow.
“Oh my,” Narine said, a smile blooming. “What is it?”
“A firefly.”
She leaned closer, pressing against his side as she peered into his cupped palms. “Do they bite?”
“No. They are harmless.” His pulse began to thump from the warmth of their contact.
“Where did you get it?”
He gestured toward the moonlit field through the gap in the trees. “They are over there. Hundreds of them.”
Her eyes were alight with excitement. “Show me.”
“All right.” He couldn’t restrain his grin.
Ducking through the trees, Jace led Narine into the meadow. He then opened his hands, palms up. The firefly took to the air, its light a blinking beacon. A smile on her face, she watched it glide off toward its brethren. Taking a chance, Jace took Narine’s hand and led her out into the field.
As they walked through the tall grass, it stirred the fireflies resting there. The little bugs scattered in all directions, a swirling glow surrounding the couple as they crossed the open area and crested a small rise.
“It’s wonderful.” Narine’s voice was breathy, making her sound younger than her twenty-three years.
“You’ve never seen them before?” he asked.
“No. Never.”
He paused, turning toward her. “This is all new to you, isn’t it? Traveling like this. Sleeping in the wild. Even spending the night in an inn. You haven’t done this sort of thing before.”
“No,” she said. “Not at all. For many years, I hadn’t even left the palace, other than during palanquin rides around the city. When I turned fifteen, I took a ship to Tiadd to join the University. While life there was different, it was nothing like this.” Jace thought she sounded sad. “I now find myself facing an uncertain future, unsure of what will become of me. I fear my brother will pursue me, but at the same time, I feel as if I have been freed from the shackles of my old life.”
Jace arched a brow, his expression doubtful. “Shackles? You lived in a palace with the best of everything. The rest of us only wish for such shackles.”
Narine’s voice took on an edge of anger. “Living as a princess means you have no freedom to leave the palace grounds, let alone the city. You don’t get to shape your own future and, most likely, will be told who you are to marry.”
Jace snorted. “Nobody is going to tell me who to marry. Who would wish to be bound to the same person for life? That is what I call shackles.”
She yanked her hand from his. “Some of us find the idea romantic. Some of us wish to find someone special, someone with whom they would happily share their love, laughter, and tears. For life.”
Realizing he was losing her, Jace redirected the conversation. “Is that why you left for Tiadd? To avoid an arranged marriage?”
Her gaze followed a firefly as it drifted past, her tone shifting toward sadness again. “Yes. I desperately wished to avoid such an arrangement. At worst, eight or ten years at the University would buy me time.” She looked back at him, her skin appearing pale in the moonlight. “I also hoped my training, my mastery of magic, might convince my father I am too valuable to lose in an arranged marriage likely to send me to a different wizardom.”
The mention of her magical ability had Jace reaching for his chest, making sure the amulet remained hidden beneath his tunic. It was still there. With it, I am immune to magic. She can’t do anything to me. Reassured, he thought, We are alone. It is time for boldness.
He took her hand again, drawing her attention. The round moon reflected in her eyes, their surroundings twinkling with the light of the fireflies. “You have the most beautiful eyes.”
She looked down shyly. “People say I have my mother’s eyes.”
His brow furrowed. “I have never heard anything about her.”
“She died during childbirth. I was to have a younger brother, but there were complications. I was two years old at the time.” Her soft-spoken words carried a wish of what might have been.
Jace put his hand on her cheek. “I am sorry. It is obvious you missed having her in your life. I understand. My own mother died when I was nine.”
Her gaze shifted up to meet his. With the emotional connection, Jace sensed an opening and took it. He leaned in, and her eyes drifted shut as their lips met. At first, he brushed against hers softly, then again. His other hand met the small of her back and pressed her against him, their kiss increasing in passion. She seemed a bit reluctant, unsure, or unskilled. Perhaps all three. It didn’t matter. Jace’s pulse raced and his desire grew more urgent. He removed his hand from her cheek and slid it down to her well-rounded chest. His blood began to boil.
Narine’s eyes flashed open and she pulled back, swatting his hand away. The hair on his arms stood on end. Magic, he thought, taking a step back. Nothing happened, save for the amulet on his chest growing ice cold.
“What?” Narine appeared confused.
Jace grinned. “Your magic won’t work on me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “The amulet. Fine.” She bit the words off angrily and moved closer to poke him in the chest, her finger driving him back a step. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your smooth moves, Jerrell,” she said his real name with a snarl. “You have been watching me since the moment we met. If you think I am one of your tavern wenches, think again. I am no trophy to pursue, nor am I one to spread my legs for every attractive man who wishes otherwise.”
Jace frowned. “That’s unfair. I never said you were a tavern wench.”
“We are done here.” She stomped off, returning to camp in a rush.
Looking up at the moon, Jace shook his head. “Why must women be so difficult?”
The moon didn’t answer. It never did, just hovering in the same location in the eastern sky, round and full, every night the same as the one before.
With a sigh, he meandered back to camp, wondering where things had gone wrong. He noticed that the fireflies had fled, leaving the meadow vacant save for himself. Even they have abandoned me. Did I slight them, as well? Jace was used to having others upset with him, often wishing to do him harm. In Narine’s case, he wasn’t prepared to give up just yet, so he decided to apologize and wait for another opportunity. With the thought in mind, he approached camp.
As he stepped into the firelight, he found all five of his companions standing at the far side of the fire, watching his approach. Rhoa had her arms crossed over her chest, and Rawk mirrored her, but with a much more relaxed expression on his face.
“What?” he asked, looking around. “Why are you staring at me?”
Rhoa said, “Why indeed?” The diminutive acrobat glared at him in judgment.
“Listen, I–” A smack echoed in the dark and pain flared on Jace’s backside. “Ouch!”
He jumped forward, rubbing himself, turning to see what had hit him. A sapling, six feet long and no more than an inch in dia
meter at the thick end, floated in mid-air. He looked at Narine, whose hands were held out before her, palms open.
She grinned. “So, you are immune to magic?”
The princess twisted one hand before snapping the other. The sapling spun around Jace and smacked him in the backside again. The others laughed.
“Ouch!”
He shouted again and again as she used her magic to spank him repeatedly, while he tried to scramble and dodge the wooden whip. The laughter grew until he finally broke into a run, through the trees and back into the meadow.
From the camp, laughter continued for quite some time, stirring his anger.
Jace had slept in the meadow that night.
Since waking with the rising sun the following morning, sore, damp with dew, and surly, he had said nothing to the others. Instead, he walked alone, sulking while they carried on as if he weren’t there. They were likely waiting for him to apologize to Narine. He refused to give them the satisfaction.
They passed the apple orchard where Jace, Rawk, and Rhoa had first hatched their crazy scheme. At the time, Jace had expected to steal the amulet from Rhoa and finish the contract alone. While he had swapped a false amulet in secret, keeping the true amulet for himself, nothing else had gone according to his plan.
His gaze shifted to Rhoa, who walked beside Salvon’s cart. At nineteen years old, her appearance made her seem even younger and gave the impression of a naïve and innocent soul. Jace wouldn’t have expected her to have the courage to kill the mightiest wizard in Ghealdor. Even with Jace’s penchant for luck, he was astounded they had all survived the ordeal.
As they passed the orchard, the walls of Starmuth came into view, amber in the light of the setting sun. The trees to the other side of the road parted, revealing an open field between the road and the river to the south. The long grass was trampled and dead, a lingering sign of the menagerie’s recent stay. Rhoa stopped and stared at the empty field while the cart continued down the road.
Narine called out from the back of the cart, “What is it, Rhoa?”
Salvon looked backward, then pulled the reins, drawing Jabbers to a stop.
Jace drew closer, his attention focused on Rhoa, as Rawk approached from the other direction. Rhoa’s large, dark eyes reflected concern.
Jace set his hurt feelings aside and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure they are fine.” He recalled the Midnight Guard interrogating the troupe while he, Rawk, and Rhoa snuck away. “Despaldi sought the amulet. He wasn’t out for blood, or the conversation would have been far different.”
Rhoa took a breath before replying. “It has been less than three weeks since the troupe arrived here. To leave in such a short time… It’s not normal.” Her gaze remained on the empty field. “I fear for them.”
Salvon climbed off his cart, the old man groaning as he held a hand against the small of his back. He approached, focused on Rhoa. “The menagerie was camped here?”
Rhoa nodded without turning toward him. “Yes. We had only one performance before I left.” She glanced at the short man beside her. “It was Rawk’s first and last.” A frown crossed her face. “Without me to play the Black Sparrow, the entire show would have been reworked. To also lose Rawk, the performance would greatly suffer.”
The old man nodded. “Perhaps that’s why they left. The show did not go well and they moved to another city.”
“I hope you are right.” Rhoa gave the man a smile. “Thank you, Salvon.”
Jace frowned. “What about me? I was trying to help, too.”
Rhoa turned toward him and rolled her eyes. “Fine. Thank you.” She then pressed her lips together. “You do know it’s inappropriate to demand gratitude. It makes your motives seem insincere.”
“Yes, Jace,” Narine said from the cart. “What are your motives?”
Jace stared at the princess for a moment before shaking his head and walking past the cart. I’ll not be baited by that infuriating woman again. I’ve had enough. “I am done with you people,” he called over his shoulder. “Take care. Have a good life.”
As the walls of Starmuth drew closer, he began to feel better. There would be a hot meal and room waiting for him at The Gilded Goose. Better yet, he had a horse stabled there.
“No more walking,” he said to himself, drawing a smile as he buried thoughts of the companions he left behind.
2
The Golden Chalice
Narine Killarius turned, rising to her knees on the bed of Salvon’s cart. She peered over the old man’s shoulder as he snapped the reins. The cart lurched into motion, drawn by Salvon’s sorry old horse. Ahead, the city of Starmuth loomed, but Narine focused on the figure on the road between the cart and the city.
Jace walked with a hurried step, outpacing the slow cart until he paused briefly to speak with the guards at the city gate. A pang of guilt soured her mouth, drawing a frown. I was harder on him than he deserved. She suddenly regretted pushing him away. The thief was different from any man she had known and had intrigued her from the start despite warnings from Rhoa and Adyn. Both women had insisted Jace was to be avoided.
“He is selfish, unethical, and pig-headed,” Rhoa had warned days earlier.
“I know the type,” Adyn had added. “He will bring you nothing but trouble, Narine. I can see it by the way he watches you all the time. If your desire was to lure a man to your bedroom, he would be an easy target.” Adyn had tilted her head, watching Jace from a distance. “He is attractive enough and might be good for a bit of fun, but I know you better than that. You seek a man who will respect you, a man you can trust. Neither can come from someone like him.”
The words had stuck with Narine, gnawing at the back of her mind. Despite those warnings, she found herself continually drawn to Jace, more so with each day of their journey. And then, the prior evening…
Just thinking about their kiss left Narine’s head fuzzy and her heart pounding. Her knees had almost buckled as he held her against him, his warm lips intertwined with hers. It was pure bliss, until he had pressed beyond where she was prepared to venture.
Narine knew she had overreacted to Jace’s advances. It wasn’t the first time. Kollin, the previous boy to make an attempt on her body, hadn’t been immune to her magic. He had survived, but only after Master Hildama’s timely arrival. The woman had healed Kollin and no visible scars remained…once the hair grew back in his nether region. He had never spoken to Narine again. Even before that debacle, no other male at the University had been brave enough to approach her romantically. Afterward, most had avoided her altogether.
Images from earlier that morning replayed in her head, a common occurrence since the encounter. She had left camp to get some water from the nearby stream, pausing when she saw someone through the trees. It was a man with dark hair, stripped to the waist, his back to her as he squatted on a rock just above the water’s surface. He dipped his head into the water, lifting it in a burst, his long, dark bangs sending a fan of water into the air. Standing, he ran his hands through his hair, drops of water glistening on his body in the first rays of morning light. He wasn’t a big man, but his arms and shoulders were muscular in a lean way. He twisted, revealing a chiseled chest and rippled torso. His hands ran down his face, and he shook his head. Narine gaped, realizing it was Jace. His gaze swept the area, approaching her direction. She ducked, hoping he hadn’t seen her.
Adyn spoke, causing Narine to jump with a start, drawing her from her reverie. “You are watching him.”
Heart thumping in her chest, Narine did her best to recover. “No. I’m gazing at the city.”
Adyn snorted. “You are a poor liar.”
Narine glared at her friend, wearing her best princess face. “I’ve never been to Starmuth. I just find it odd to see the walls so low, the city so much smaller than Fastella.”
Adyn rose in the cart and twisted to kneel beside Narine. She gazed at the approaching city for a moment before replying. “It’s not much to look at, but it
’s still bigger than Tiadd City.”
“True.”
Salvon turned and spoke over his shoulder, “Starmuth has its charms, as does every city in the eight wizardoms.”
“How many have you visited, Salvon?” Narine asked.
“Oh my,” Salvon said. “I am unsure if I can give you a count. Just know I have been to each wizardom during my years, from the hot deserts of Hassakan, to the jungles of Kyranni, to the ice fields of Pallanar.”
Narine had heard of all those places and had studied lore on each of the wizardoms while at the University. However, she had seen little of the world, never venturing beyond the walls of Fastella until her sea voyage to Tiadd. In many ways, the University there was more secluded than her father’s palace. Except for those two places, she had been nowhere until the past week.
The cart rolled toward the gate, a pair of guards eyeing them as they drew near. Both were men, one tall, the other short, dressed in Ghealdan armor with purple capes and a dog’s head embossed in their chest plates. When the cart reached the gate, Salvon pulled Jabbers to a stop and addressed the guards.
“Good evening. I am Salvon the Great, a storyteller of much renown. I was wondering how things fare in the city these days.”
The guard glanced at his companion before replying. “Things are…unsettled. You came from the north. Were you by chance in Fastella last?”
Rhoa and Rawk walked past, entering the city without more than a passing glance from the shorter guard.
“Oh, no.” Salvon shook his head. “We began in Tangor to the west and headed here by way of the Ghealdan Mountain Pass. It was a rough two weeks, I assure you.” The old man used his cloak to wipe his brow, appearing weary. “I wish nothing more than to eat a hearty meal, take a hot bath, and sleep for a week.” He flashed a grin.
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