Placing her hand on the cool white sandstone walls, Octavia follows the natural bend in the hall down a longer corridor. The stone pulses beneath her fingertips reading her identity through her touch.
Small footsteps skitter across the floor a few feet behind her but when Octavia spins around there is nobody there. A feeling of unease prickles down her spine as Octavia turns back around and walks right into a massive girl wielding twin swords. The girl is easily seven feet tall and her white-blonde hair hangs in tangled waves to her backside. An angry red scar runs diagonally across her face and her training uniform is dingy gray and threadbare.
Octavia manages to leap back just in time as the unknown girl sharpens her blades off one another sending sparks into the air as she lunges to advance on Octavia.
Reaching for her aquaswift sword at her hip Octavia comes up empty and remembers she left her weapons behind when she entered the Sky Palace. She swears loud enough that the girl advancing on her cocks an amused eyebrow.
Continuing to retreat Octavia panics. She’s unarmed against a ferocious looking girl who looks hungry for blood. There’s only one way this can end. Unless…
A tingle of energy sparks in Octavia’s fingertips and travels up her forearms as she throws her arms up in front of her face for protection. The air around her explodes and her hands are weighted down as a wicked looking curved blade appears in each of her hands. The weight is both bulky and familiar in her grasp like she was born to wield these blades. She test swings one, her wrist turning out as she slashes the blade in her would-be attacker’s direction. The girl easily deflects the blow as the blade of her sword clashes with the curved blade of Octavia’s weapon.
Forcing herself to push all other thoughts from her mind, Octavia studies her opponent for weaknesses and tells as they play an intricate dance back and forth, neither gaining nor losing ground in the middle of the corridor.
Right before the girl lunges to the left Octavia notes the girl’s gaze flick to Octavia’s wrist. To disarm her? As the girl lunges Octavia twists to her left and hip-checks the girl into the wall. The girl howls in anger as she spins and crouches, the tips of the fingers on her right hands tapping the hilt of her sword as she sweeps it six inches from the floor to knock Octavia’s feet from under her.
At the last minute Octavia jumps and finds her body rising on its’ own accord until she hovers several feet above the girl’s head. Octavia is so busy calculating the distance between her feet and the ground in wonderment it takes her several seconds to realize both the girl and Octavia’s curved blades have disappeared.
Octavia drops to the floor with a thud and quickly gets to her feet and placing her back to the wall crawls down the corridor inch by painstakingly slow inch.
Adventrya appears from thin air when Octavia finally reaches the end of the corridor. The light has faded to darkness through the large paned window at the end of the corridor and Octavia’s stomach growls embarrassingly loud.
“Finally,” Adventrya remarks impatiently. “I swear, turn your back on an initiate for two-seconds and they disappear for hours.”
“I’m sorry, Mother Goddess,” Octavia dips her head submissively. “I-”
“I have no time for excuses.” Adventrya cuts her off. Gesturing to an open door to the right of the end of the hall she says, “This is your bedchamber. A servant will come with your dinner in a moment and will be able to see to anything you need so don’t hesitate to ask for whatever you may want. I want you well rested and ready for your trials in the morning.”
“Yes, Mother Goddess,” Octavia bows awkwardly before the goddess.
❖
Andromeda
“Where are you doing?” Daegan bursts into Andromeda’s bedchamber just as she’s stripping out of her training garb and into a pair of fighting leathers and a black tunic. Her ladies’ maids look on nervously after she told them to back off when they tried to help her undress.
“Have you ever heard of knocking?” Andromeda snaps at Daegan.
“You slammed the door in my face.” Daegan reminds her.
“And that didn’t give you a hint that you were not to come in behind me?” Andromeda glowers at Daegan as she hurriedly tucks the tunic into her pants.
“Don’t be pissed at me,” Daegan crosses his muscular arms over his chest, momentarily stealing Andromeda’s attention before she turns away and flops onto her bed to lace up her boots. “I’m neither the one who kept his real identity from you nor the person who is hesitant to put her kingdom in jeopardy over a war that may have more negative repercussions than beneficial.”
“Yet you are the one that brought me to this place in the first place,” Andromeda arches a brow.
“Are we still arguing about that?” Daegan rolls his eyes toward the ceiling. “It was for your safety, Princess. Obviously, considering what has happened since you came home.”
“Maybe if I had been there my father and sister wouldn’t have been taken,” Andromeda’s eyes turn misty as her voice cracks and softens. “Father hasn’t been well for years and I can only imagine what Lyra will do to him. And Midge has already been through so much.”
Daegan sighs and sits next to Andromeda on the bed. She watches as he scrubs his hands over his face tiredly. “Like it or not, your sister Midge is the wife of a Prince of Perscesia. The child she bore that now resides in this very palace is of royal blood. That means something even if Queen Carina doesn’t want to admit it. And the threat Vacantia poses to her people is no small thing to dismiss. Any Perscesian that surfaces anywhere near a shoreline risks certain death if a Vacantian soldier is nearby, and if they were to launch ships? It could be a blood bath. So please, whatever you are thinking about doing, just don’t. Give the Queen the night to think over her options before you run and do something stupid.”
“I’m not planning to do something stupid,” Andromeda grins wickedly. “I’m planning to do something brave.”
❖
Andromeda studiously ignores Daegan as she leaps from the window of her bedchamber and lands on her feet in the courtyard below. Her ribs scream in protest, but the pain is less than it was days earlier.
Sleek as a mountain cat Andromeda dashes through the courtyard, racing from topiary to tree to large decorative vase for camouflage. Daegan is quickly at her heels, whispering furiously in the dark.
“What are you thinking?” Daegan hisses. “Have you lost your senses? Do you not remember what happened on your last adventure escaping from the palace?”
Andromeda grins at him as he squirms under her gaze, “That’s what you’re for. Either help me or get out of my way. Now, give me a boost over this wall.”
Andromeda grabs the seaweed vines that cover the stone wall like ropes as Daegan seethes but finally cups his hands into a basket for Andromeda’s foot. Stepping up she hurdles herself to the top of the wall and jumps down on the other side.
“Are you coming or what?” Andromeda whisper-shouts from the other side of the wall.
Andromeda ties her hair back with a leather band as she waits. Daegan sighs dramatically then pulls himself to the top of the wall, his dark hair and mismatched eyes appearing over the top as he pulls himself up and over.
“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Daegan glares at her as he crosses his arms over his chest.
Andromeda shrugs, “I didn’t hold a blade to your throat and force you or anything.”
“You know as well as I do that I’m charged with guarding you.” Daegan says through clenched teeth. “So until the Queen finds someone more suited, which she likely will after this, I’m stuck to you like barnacles on the side of the Internment.”
“Well, then let’s get a move on,” Andromeda sweeps her arm out gesturing for Daegan to go ahead. “I don’t want the guards to hear us and stop us before we’ve started out.”
“That would be just horrible,” Daegan mutters sarcastically as they quickly make their way to the bank of palace’s seaskippers. Glancing aro
und for signs of guards Daegan opens the hatch to the seaskipper and ushers Andromeda inside.
Sliding into the seat next to the controls, Andromeda puts her booted feet up and says, “I think I’ll leave the navigating to you. Last time was not fun.”
Daegan shakes his head and starts the skipper up. It hums to life as the buttons on the front panel flicker to light.
“Where are we going?” Daegan asks without looking at her. “Or haven’t you figured that out yet?”
“To the Internment,” Andromeda ignores the bite in his tone.
The seaskipper comes to an abrupt halt. Daegan turns to look at Andromeda fully. “What? Why?”
“I’m commandeering it and your crew to save my family,” Andromeda explains calmly as if Daegan should have already figured this part out.
“You can’t do that,” Daegan growls. “No, I won’t let you. The Internment is my family’s ship. I’m taking you back.”
Andromeda watches quietly as Daegan presses several buttons on the panel and the seaskipper turns back the way they’ve come. “You’re my sworn guard, right?”
“Yes,” Daegan mutters angrily.
“And you’re bound to do whatever I request of you, is that right?” A slow grin crosses Andromeda’s mouth.
“Yes,” Daegan’s reply is so quiet Andromeda nearly misses it entirely.
“Then take me to the Internment or park this thing and let me out.” Andromeda challenges him as she watches a muscle twitch in his neck.
Wordlessly Daegan presses another button and Andromeda smiles smugly. Until the seaskipper makes contact with the seafloor with a thud.
“Fine,” Daegan sits back. “Get out. Do what you want. I don’t care. You’ll be caught before you ever reach the Internment but good luck trying.”
Andromeda stares daggers at her guard and lurches from her seat as the hatch opens out into the city. The minute her feet hit the ground Andromeda starts sprinting in the opposite direction. Daegan underestimates her. She knows it even if he doesn’t. She may not be at her best with the sensitivity in her ribs but she grew up in Vacantia, the rugged shores and the rocky mountain terrain taught her to keep even footing on any surface and her years of training in hopes of becoming a Watierai Warrior made her fast on her feet.
The city races by in a blur, her feet a whir of motion through the shifting sand of the streets. The gates at the edge of the city come into view and Andromeda grins triumphantly. She takes a sharp left toward the shipyards in the slip of the harbor at the edge of the city. It was still a marvel to Andromeda that an underground city could have a harbor, but the ships were set on the seafloor atop the sand and tied to the dock until needed again. Dozens of majestic vessels are docked in the harbor but Daegan’s stands out among them, the only one with his family’s crest and not the royal crest of the Perscesian royal family emblazoned on it.
A rope ladder hangs on the starboard side of the ship allowing the crew to come and go as they please. The man with the octopus arms snoozes through his watch on the deck of the Interment. All is quiet.
Andromeda quickly scales the ladder, the rope swaying beneath her as she climbs. The man with the octopus arms stirs awake as Andromeda clamors aboard.
“Your Highness,” the sailor bows to her. “I was not expecting you. Is Captain Brykmaker with you?”
Andromeda shakes her head, “No, it’s just me. I need to commandeer this vessel. I need to return to Vacantia at once. My father and sister are in danger.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” the sailor replies slowly. “But does the captain know about this?”
Andromeda sighs impatiently, “Daegan is unwilling to help me. He believes it is too dangerous for me to return to Vacantia.”
As she’s explaining the situation to the sailor she hears the hum of a seaskipper heading toward the harbor. Andromeda and the sailor peer over the side of the ship and watch the skipper come to a stop as Daegan appears from the hatch.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t help me,” Andromeda calls down to him.
“I changed my mind,” Daegan sounds defeated. “The minute you ran away from the skipper I realized what an idiot I was being. Queen Carina would have my head for letting you go without me. My family is just back in her good graces, I can’t bear for them to become outcasts again.”
“So you’re just helping me to further your family’s interest and not for any other reason?” Andromeda smirks.
Daegan shakes his head as he begins climbing the rope ladder to the deck.
Just as the octopus-armed sailor leans over to help Daegan aboard a dull sound, like a dozen seaskippers moving as one breaks the silence of the night followed by a fleet of the palace’s skippers sailing into the harbor.
“How could you?” Andromeda screams at Daegan over the roar of the skippers.
“I didn’t,” Daegan shakes his head vigorously in denial. “I swear it, Princess.”
The hatch on the leading skipper pops open and a guard hops out then reaches in to help someone. Carina takes the guard’s hand as she climbs out of the vessel looking as regal as ever, even in the dead of night.
Tipping her face up to the ship’s deck, the queen sighs, “So eager to leave us again so soon, daughter?”
“It’s what I have to do,” Andromeda braces her hands on the side of the ship as she looks down at her birth mother. “My sister and father need me. I won’t let Lyra harm them.”
“Chances are they’re already being tortured,” Carina points out as she clasps her hands in front of her. “I don’t mean to sound callous, I’m merely stating the facts. And if you take off on this reckless journey with one ship and one small crew of sailors you will meet the same fate or worse.”
“I told you I would help Ezra free Midge and my father with or without your help,” Andromeda reminds Carina.
“And I told Ezra I would think about sending our armies to aid the people of Vacantia in becoming free of their tyrant queen.” Carina replies. “You did not even wait for my decision.”
“Because I thought for sure you’d turn him down!” Andromeda shouts, her body shaking angrily.
“You barely know me, daughter.” Carina replies coldly. “You’ve not allowed yourself to get to know me. You have no idea what decision I would have made.”
“Well?” Andromeda demands. “Are you planning to help us or not?”
“War is coming,” Carina says thoughtfully. “Whether Perscesia wants it or not, our kingdom has been threatened. We will send three ships under our banners to sail to Vacantia and see if we have any allies ashore. We will meet with the dethroned prince, Cygni of House Golongai and see what his plans are. And we will go from there.”
“I’m going with you,” Andromeda says leaving no room for protest.
“I would expect no less.” Carina grins wolfishly. “Now may we all retire back to the palace and get some sleep? We leave in two days time and there is much to organize in the morning.”
❖
Lyra
“What is this I hear about a marriage alliance between you and King Alem of Shroudania?” the young man asked as he lay on his side atop the luxurious feather bed and toyed with the hem of the orange and black bedspread slung haphazardly over his naked form.
“Are you jealous?” Lyra smiles lazily at her reflection in the mirror as she slips into a silky lavender robe and brushes her hair.
“Perhaps,” the young knight she’d selected from her guard to warm her sheets this week smirked as he finally looked up from the bedspread to meet her gaze in the mirror. “I don’t like to share.”
Lyra laughs as she gives the knight a pitying look over her shoulder, “Everything is temporary, my brave one. And often royal marriages are only for political gain and have little to do with love or desire.”
“So you will marry him for his armies?” the knight lifts an eyebrow.
“Vacantia needs a large army on its side to defeat the Mistborn once and for all,” Lyra sighs. Her pati
ence with her young lover grows thin. She sets her brush down and shakes out her hair as the wavy strands swish from side to side.
A knock at the door silences the young man in Lyra’s bed but he doesn’t make a move to cover himself or fumble for his discarded clothes.
“Enter,” Lyra calls out as she continues to study herself in the mirror for imperfections.
A young maid stumbles gracelessly through the double doors and upon seeing the young unclothed man in Lyra’s bed backs noisily into the doors. Wide-eyed and sputtering she drops into a deep curtsy, “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I had no idea… I would never have…”
“What is it, girl?” Lyra asks impatiently as she cuts the stuttering girl off mid-sentence with a wave of her hand.
“Sir Garlyn of the Watierai Warriors is in the throne room, Your Majesty,” the words rush out of the maid like a brisk wind. “He wishes for an audience, Your Majesty.”
“Oh, all right,” Lyra sighs unhappily. “Tell Warrior Garlyn that I shall be with him shortly.”
“Right away, Your Majesty,” the maid bows her head quickly then rises from her curtsy and darts from the room with one last glance at the man in Lyra’s bed.
“Everyone wants a piece of me,” Lyra mutters as she sheds the lavender robe onto the floor and pads across the room to her wardrobe unconcerned with her nudity.
“Another one of your admirers?” the knight inquires as he lays back against the pillows and crosses his arms behind his head.
Lyra snorts as she shuffles through the gowns lined up on silk-wrapped hangers inside the wardrobe. “Certainly not. He and his warriors are merely helping me with an important task.”
“Hmph,” the knight grunts as he flops flat onto his back and closes his eyes.
Lyra shakes her head as she selects a gown at random and slips it on, fastening the back corset easily with her long fingers; much quicker than when her lady’s maids assist in dressing her but without the feeling of regalness she experiences when being waited on.
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