CHAPTER 4

Leeto perched high in the trees of Adia observing the valley dwellers and itching for the prize. An entire kingdom. His very own kingdom to rule and control.

Leeto had smooth, pale skin, blinding orange hair and acid yellow eyes. He was very slender with a shorter-than-average frame and narrow face. Each of his features was pointed and sharp—his nose, his chin, even the corners of his mouth. He had a way of looking like a fox and snake at the same time.

He came from the Pyralis family, a clan with a long history on Mount Damien. Leeto’s grandfather—Evander Pyralis—had always been an especially close friend of King Damien. One of Damien’s first projects, after building his own palace, was creating a mansion along his large cobblestone courtyard for the Pyralis family. His Majesty ensured that they never wanted for anything. None of Evander’s descendants had ever labored a day in their luxurious lives.

As a child, Leeto never knew to appreciate the fine things that surrounded him and took his wealth for granted. In the Pyralis family, money wasn’t what mattered most. Family was. They did everything together, and it was not uncommon to see all the living Pyralis generations together in one place, special occasion or not. They abided by the deeply-held belief that there was no one else they could completely trust, no one else who would look out for them in such a dangerous world. So, while his fortune and fancy belongings did not impress Leeto, he cherished his family and their bonds above all else.

Leeto had shown his aptitude for persuasion and politics early on. Whether he was born with natural talent or had learned it from observing his father, no one was quite sure. He could convince the cooks to make him his favorite foods, his tutors to grant him an afternoon off, and his sister to give him everything she owned.

King Damien often humored himself by placing young Leeto near his seat during banquets and festivals. He seemed to enjoy talking with Leeto, especially when he had the audacity to try to control him—the King of Mount Damien. Rather than making Damien angry, the king was always deeply amused by him.

“Your Majesty,” Leeto had once said at the tender age of eight, his eyes large and innocent. “I haven’t been feeling at all well recently. I think a break from my lessons and a slice of chocolate cake would be just what I need.”

Damien roared with deep belly laughter and motioned for a servant to go to the kitchens. “You may have anything you like. As for your lessons, it doesn’t appear you need many more.”

Now Leeto was twenty-five years old, and he knew he was ready for his own kingdom. All of Adia would be his. No, he would rename it. All of Leeto Valley would be his, and he would be King Leeto. His mind had been buzzing all morning with his plans for armories, towers, and fortresses. The land was so vast and untouched, and there were endless resources to manipulate. He couldn’t wait to begin. There would be armies and servants and beautiful, wealthy people. He would need to find a queen, but that would be no problem once he obtained all his power. Every woman would want to be his wife.

His palace must be big enough for his entire family. That would mean room for his siblings, plus children. He and his queen would produce plenty of royal offspring. And he couldn’t forget large suites for his doting parents, grandparents, and aunts and uncles. And of course, the guest rooms, ballrooms, banquet halls, and gardens. He wouldn’t be outdone by the palace on the mountain.

As he daydreamed of his castle’s floor plan, he sat perched in the canopy of the giant trees doing his best to stay hidden from the foolish Adians. He had a strategy, and everything was falling perfectly into place. He just had to be sure he was not seen, especially by the other weapons.

The only hiccup so far had been his run in with Silas, the arrogant Adian with the keen senses. Leeto thought he had been silent as he stalked Silas and Tovi in the woods, but somehow Silas knew he was there.

“Come here, Leeto,” Silas had called as soon as the girl was out of earshot.

How did Silas know his name? Leeto was more annoyed than anything, and he slunk further into the shadows.

“There is no sense hiding from me,” Silas continued. “I can help you.”

Help me? Leeto laughed at the idea. He wouldn’t need someone like Silas when King Damien’s armies invaded. He wouldn’t need someone like Silas ever.

A twig cracked somewhere below him, snapping him back to reality and out of his memories of his earlier encounter with Silas. Leeto moved his eyes without disturbing any other muscles, not wanting unnecessary movements to give away his presence. His mouth curved up and his eyes narrowed when Calix came into view. Another Master. His competition. The key to his strategy.

Calix—tall and handsome with very pale skin and black hair—crept along a branch several feet below. He approached the side of a cottage built in the center of a large willow tree and flattened himself against the wall. Leeto watched as Calix silently inched closer to the front porch where an old woman sat in a rocking chair next to the very same girl Leeto always saw with Silas—Tovi Tivka.

This troubled Leeto, whose sneering smile vanished. Six months ago, King Damien challenged the weapons to mark an Adian and bring the victim to the mountain. Leeto, a masterful schemer, found abundant joy in this task. He immediately came up with a plan: shadow the other weapons as they made their targets vulnerable, and then swoop in to take advantage of his competitors’ hard work and the Adians’ weaknesses. It would be efficient and painless, at least for him.

One of the other weapons—huge and powerful Eryx—set his sights on Tovi’s brother as soon as the challenge was given. Eryx followed Tali at a distance, never revealing himself, never speaking. It was strange. Then, a few days into the challenge, Tali disappeared. No one had seen him since, but that didn’t stop Eryx from hanging around the sister. He seemed to have switched his attention to Tovi, but still he did not speak. How did he expect to win if he never spoke to his Adian target?

With no progress between Eryx and Tovi, Leeto had turned his focus to the other weapons. Plenty of Adians were being groomed in secret, but Leeto hadn’t felt the time was right quite yet.

Now, high in the trees, Leeto peered at Calix. Was Calix playing the same game? Had he been watching Eryx stalk Tovi? Or, was he completely unaware that this girl was already a target? Had Leeto missed something important?

There was an itch across his back, and he concentrated on not moving a muscle, despite his longing to scratch. He wasn’t used to clothing covering his marks. On the mountain, he wore a shirt with a hole in the back. Here in Adia, it seemed best to dress like the locals. The soft fabric felt funny as it covered the seven symbols and the heart etched on his skin. These designs stood for lessons he had learned on the mountain. Power. Perfection. Adoration. Prosperity. Pleasure. Wisdom. Control.

Each of the seven weapons was particularly trained and talented in one area, and each had earned the title of Master. Leeto became a Master of Control when he was only fifteen years old, skipping over the traditional beginners’ assignments. As with any Master, Leeto was entrusted with specialized tasks from King Damien, most of which centered around training others in the art of skillful manipulation. If only he could teach one of these Adians about the beauty of control . . .

Tovi and the old woman rose from their seats and went inside the house. Calix, still unaware of Leeto’s watchful eyes and ears, disappeared around the other side of the tree. Alone again, Leeto finally gave in and mercifully attacked the skin of his back with his fingernails. He closed his eyes in sweet relief, but only for a moment.

He climbed toward the other side of the village and mulled over all that he had seen. So intent on his plans and schemes, he hardly paid attention to his surroundings.

If he had more presence of mind, he wouldn’t have been so surprised to find himself jerked from his feet and pinned to a tree trunk, one enormous hand grasping his throat and cutting off his air supply.

“Leave her alone. She’s mine,” growled Eryx, his glowering brown eyes with one little purple star only inches away. His face and shaved head were covered in old scars, and one of them just below his eye had reopened in his fury. Something black and tar-like slowly seeped out.

Leeto spluttered and gasped.

“Do you hear me? Leave her alone,” Eryx demanded, releasing his grip and letting his prisoner fall to his feet, narrowly escaping a long plunge to the earth far below.

Leeto rubbed his neck and took deep gulps of air. “Yes, yes. I hear you. No need to get violent, Eryx. You know I’m not the only one with my eyes on her, don’t you?”

“I’m aware.”

“Are you going to try to murder Calix, too?” Leeto asked snidely.

Eryx grabbed the front of Leeto’s tunic and lifted him to eye level. “What makes you think I would hesitate from destroying your family? Leave Tovi alone, or they will be the ones I punish. Understand?”

A cold chill ran through Leeto. “I understand,” he gasped, having trouble breathing with his shirt pulled tightly against his throat.

Eryx swung him over open space and let him dangle there. Leeto clung to Eryx’s wrists, his fingers sinking into the taut flesh of the larger man’s arms, desperate to keep hold. Panic took over as he writhed and spasmed, looking for some sort of escape. He panted, struggling to take in air.

“How do you think your mother would feel if I let go right now?” Eryx asked menacingly.

Suddenly Leeto was free falling. Eryx had let go, and Leeto’s mind went terribly blank.

Before he could regain himself, he tumbled onto a thatched roof just a few feet below. Leeto looked up into the hateful eyes of Eryx who still stood on the branch above. Without a word, the large man turned and stomped further into the forest.

Of all the things he despised, a spiral out of control was what Leeto hated the most. This interaction was not in his plan. How had everything gone so wrong in so little time? If it weren’t for this roof, he’d be dead. Or had Eryx dropped him here on purpose? Was Eryx weakening?

He had so many more questions now than he had just that morning. The biggest question of all: What did he need to do to regain the upper hand?