“They’re stopping.” Terrack had joined them on the wall. Shocked, they watched as the men put down their weapons and looked around in confusion. Kalen held Reign in his arms as her eyelids fluttered and she came to.
“What happened?” she asked.
“You did it.” Kalen hugged her close.
“For now.” She straightened and stepped back. “Ryndel still has the amulets and he could start it again.”
“I saw flashes of light and movement in the top floor of the dungeon,” Terrack said. It made sense that the coward would lock himself away, and that was one of the buildings in the direction Kalen had been drawn to earlier.
“Do you want to stay here?” Kalen asked Reign, but she had already begun to make her way down the stairs. He grabbed his sword and followed her.
They searched the courtyard for Luna and Cirrus. Subjects, mercenaries, and guardsmen alike appeared stunned by their actions. Moans and whimpers from the wounded competed with the sound of the pouring rain. Those who had been attackers suddenly turned into comrades and began treating injuries and moving men indoors.
Kalen craned his neck, searching the wounded for his friends. He exhaled in relief as he spotted them ambling their way across the courtyard. Luna’s braid had come loose, and her hair fell in wet tangles down her back. Cirrus seemed to be babying his injured arm, but they looked unharmed otherwise.
Kalen and Reign ducked under the portico that bordered the great hall and offered a welcome respite from the rain. As they walked its length, Kalen let his hood fall to see better by the occasional flickerfly bulb swaying in the wind. Some had been knocked loose and shattered, leaving broken glass to snap under their boots, but freeing the insects within.
All too soon they were out in the open again, sprinting toward the dungeon tower. Lightning flashed and thunder clapped an echoing sound as Kalen shoved open the door and they raced inside. Kalen headed for the stairs and took them two at a time, hardly stopping at the second floor before taking the next set of stairs to the highest story. He strained to hear any noises.
“I won’t do it anymore.” A woman spoke, her voice hoarse and trembling. “You’re going to get us all killed.”
“You’ll do what I say,” the Law nearly shouted. “Or your family will pay for your disservice. The fighting has stopped—you can see with your own eyes.” The sound of feet shuffling and a muffled sob. “We need to attract them all onto the castle grounds. The kingdom will be mine tonight. This time I want you to project through all of them.”
“No,” more voices chimed in.
Cirrus elbowed past Kalen into the antechamber. “Enough of this.”
Kalen took long strides across the room to the cell where Belrose had been held. He glanced through the bars, and his entire body froze.
Ryndel stood at the far end, staring out the small window cut into the exterior wall. Lightning flashed again, and in the reflection of the glass Kalen could see Ryndel’s wide, unfocused eyes and a tilted half smile that made him look crazed. “You think you’ve stopped me?”
“Yes. Yes we do.” Kalen found his voice, but his eyes kept cutting to the other figures in the room. Jenna and the other sorciers sat on the floor, their feet bound with a thick metal rope and their arms tied behind their backs. They ranged in age from ten to sixty years old, all of different coloring and backgrounds, and yet in this moment they all looked terrified of the Law. The attractor stood next to Ryndel, a line of dried tears tracing down her cheeks to her jaw. His fingers were locked around her elbow.
“Do it,” Ryndel spoke right into her ear.
Her body trembled, and her eyes fluttered closed.
“You don’t have to,” Kalen said through the bars.
Ryndel shoved her against the window. “Use him, too!”
The other sorciers moaned, and then Kalen felt it, that same foreign pressure he’d felt with the bounty hunter. His hands pressed firm against his forehead, and he mentally fought against it. The presence left as quickly as it had come, almost as if she refused to push him.
Cirrus stood beside Kalen, yanking on the handle. “Enough of this. Come out and face your consequences. Why are you locked in the dungeon, of all places?”
“Nobody can get to us here. I can see and control everyone from this vantage point.”
If Kalen could have reached through the bars to throttle the man, he would have. “I can unlock it, you idiot. That’s what I do. That’s what you taught me to do.”
“Good luck, boy.” The last word was spoken as a condescending insult, thrown across the room with more force than a dagger.
Kalen removed his pick tools and inserted one into the lock. A twist and turn and the lock opened.
Suddenly Ryndel turned in Kalen’s direction. He held an amulet in one uplifted hand, thrust toward Kalen as he maneuvered the sorcier so that she stood in front of him as some sort of shield.
“You coward!” Anger flooded Kalen’s thoughts as he strode toward Ryndel, ready to attack. Before he was halfway across the cell, he was suddenly thrown to the ground from behind.
“Cirrus, no!” Luna shouted.
A punch landed on the side of Kalen’s cheek, and pain bloomed from his cheekbone up to his ear. He rolled to the side to try to escape and stared up into Cirrus’s rage-glazed eyes. Kalen’s own anger flared as well. He shoved Cirrus away and leaped to his feet. His hand gripped his short sword as he aimed it at his friend.
Something began to scream at him. He couldn’t tell if it was within or without, but it was a long wail that told him, No, don’t do this.
His body wouldn’t stop.
Cirrus seized his own sword, and within seconds they were attacking. They parried and lunged and circled around one another. The small cell seemed to close in on them until Kalen saw an opening and plunged into the antechamber. His arm swung up and around to parry Cirrus’s step forward. The steel blades crashed and echoed around the room.
Kalen’s mind felt splintered, a push and pull, a tug-of-war that wouldn’t stop. He fought to keep focused and from being impaled on the end of Cirrus’s sword. But even Cirrus seemed unable to concentrate. His thrusts were weak. His feints were easy to spot. Cirrus was one of the most renowned swordfighters, and even Kalen somehow kept up with him.
Circle. Lunge. Riposte. Attack.
“Stop,” Reign cried from where she stood at the top of the stairs. “Stop it, you two!” She took a deep breath and then stepped over against the wall, where she closed her eyes.
Kalen lunged, and his sword sliced at Cirrus’s side. The cut was shallow, but the prince grimaced as he leaped to the side. Blood seeped through his white shirt, visible where his cloak fell open. He swung his sword up to block Kalen from further attack.
Luna lunged forward and tried to shove Kalen. “Enough, you two!” she shouted at both of them. “Use your training. Use the Hakunan.” She spun and faced Cirrus. “Use everything you taught me.”
Kalen’s mouth gaped at the wound, and it was enough of a distraction that he could focus on something other than anger for just a moment. His senses acclimated to the room. To the sounds of the metal of the swords as they slid off each other. To the smell of the rain as it seeped in from outdoors. To the feel of his lungs gasping for air and the tension in every muscle in his body.
He danced away from Cirrus, refusing to lift his sword toward the prince again. “I’m sorry,” he panted.
Cirrus’s teeth gritted, and he lunged forward. Kalen easily moved aside.
Without warning, another feeling permeated the anger. Love. Unconditional love. It was filled with apologies and healing and friendship, and both Cirrus and Kalen dropped their weapons to the floor.
Reign.
Even through her anxiety over the fighting, she had been able to harness the emotion and project it over them.
As if they were one, the siblings both collapsed to the ground where they each stood. Reign was exhausted with the continued use of her magick and Cirrus fell to his knees, his hand immediately going to cover the blood spreading to stain his shirt. Luna ran to him.
“I’m sorry,” Kalen said again. Self-loathing overwhelmed him, and he thought he might never stop saying those words.
“Don’t.” Cirrus held up a finger weakly. “Don’t do that to yourself. Neither of us is to blame.”
“You’re right,” Kalen said. “Someone else is to blame.”
He wanted to run and comfort Reign. He understood all too well what continued use of their abilities could do, but first Ryndel had to be taken care of. Kalen strode into the room where the Law stood again near the window. His arm was now locked around the sorcier’s neck, and her expression was a mix of pain and panic. The amulet was held at chest height, directed at the masses outside. The traitor still seemed intent on his original plan.
“Enough, Ryndel. Put the amulet away.” Kalen was almost within arm’s reach.
Ryndel pushed the girl to the side, crammed the amulet into his coat pocket, and yanked his sword from its scabbard. He stabbed the weapon in Kalen’s direction, and Kalen barely danced to the side out of the way. Kalen realized too late that he’d left his sword in the other room. He tried to run out of the cell, but Ryndel had stepped around him and blocked his path. Ryndel swung his sword again, and the sword sliced through Kalen’s sleeve. Kalen jumped backward, only to find he was up against the wall, the window behind his head.
He was going to die.
“Use your magick,” Kalen shouted at the sorciers, where they still stayed bound on the floor. “Whatever you can do.”
“We can’t,” Jenna said, her voice hoarse. “It’s the metal rope. He can project through our minds, but the binds remove access to our own abilities.”
Ryndel sneered at Kalen. “I’ve been planning this for years, and I’ve thought of everything.” He advanced again. “I’ve bested you, Questioner.”
His sword sliced through the air. Kalen knew he couldn’t get out of the way fast enough, but suddenly the attractor was at his side. Ryndel’s sword swung at an awkward angle, as if she urged the weapon in her direction. It barely missed Kalen’s cheek as it swung past.
Ryndel’s hand twisted, and the sword slipped from his grasp to clatter on the floor before it slid over to the sorcier’s feet. She reached down and grabbed it, holding it in both hands as she aimed it awkwardly at Ryndel.
On even footing, Kalen launched himself at Ryndel, his gloved knuckles connecting with the man’s jaw. Ryndel’s head snapped back, and he fell to his knees. “You’ll pay for this,” he said, as his mouth began to swell.
“Free them,” Kalen said to the attractor. She lifted the sword and used it to start hacking at the rope.
He bent over Ryndel and reached inside the Law’s coat to pull out two amulets.
“Luna.” He raced out of the room to find her and Reign leaning over Cirrus. The prince was curled on his side, his face a sheen of sweat.
“He’s not doing well,” Luna said.
“It’s little more than a scratch,” Cirrus said.
“I’ll bind the wound. You take care of these.” Kalen handed Luna the amulets and pointed to the other empty cell where the door stood open. He reached down to grab his sword off the floor and gave it to her before she walked away.
Kalen squatted and helped Cirrus sit to pull his shirt over his head. The cut looked shallow, a slice along his rib cage. Kalen gripped the garment in both hands and began to tear it into strips. One of the wide ones he folded into a square and pressed against the prince’s side. Cirrus inhaled sharply.
“Hold that for me,” Kalen told Reign. Her hand replaced his to hold the fabric in place.
Kalen knotted two more strips and wrapped them around Cirrus’s chest over the first bandage before he tied the ends together.
The sound of an amulet shattering echoed from the cell.
“No,” Ryndel moaned. “All my work for nothing. You will all pay for this.”
Another sound of crystal breaking.
It was done.
Outside a flash of lightning and then thunder, and then something more.
The sound of footsteps and voices.
EARLY THE NEXT morning, after everyone had a chance to bathe, eat, and rest, Kalen and his friends gathered in the throne room with the council and the king.
The king sat on his throne, his head buried in his hands. His voice was hardly audible. “Start from the beginning.”
So they did. Kalen recounted finding the memory of Reign as an infant in Cirrus’s mind, and together they told of the journey to find the princess. Luna filled in some of the gaps, but Reign stayed stoic and silent, as if refusing to grant him any of her story. Not her past, not her present. She only kept her pale blue eyes on the king, waiting and watching for reactions.
When they had told of ending the battle and destroying the last pendants, the king appeared stunned, his eyes glassy and his mouth slack-jawed.
The foursome stood facing him. He composed himself and rose from the throne. “I appreciate all that you’ve done for the kingdom. Without you I would probably be dead.” He turned to Ryndel, who had kept his mouth closed ever since Terrack had dumped him on the floor, his arms and feet now bound in a stretch of the same metal rope he’d used to tie the sorciers. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“The kingdom will still fall.” He spat at the floor. “The prophecy will come true. Look at the amount of power the girl holds. You should kill her now.”
Luna glared down at him. “You used her same power to your own advantage. Someone should kill you.”
The king looked at Terrack. “Throw him in one of the lower dungeon cells. With their magicked wards, nobody should be able to free him.” He glanced at Luna. “Besides that one, but I’m guessing she won’t be inclined to do so. Have your men interview the wounded in the infirmary. I want to know everyone connected to Ryndel. If they joined this movement for personal gain, they will have to answer to me. And if they won’t answer, I’ll have Kalen go inside his head.” He tipped his chin toward Ryndel.
Ryndel snarled at the king. Terrack reached down ungently and hauled Ryndel to his feet. The man kicked, flailed, and tried to bite Terrack, but the guard was undeterred. He lifted him by the collar of his jacket so Ryndel stood nearly on tiptoe before he dragged him off to the exit on the side.
The king then approached Reign. He opened his mouth and closed it again, lips pursing together. He cleared his throat and finally spoke. “You look exactly like the queen.” The words were whisper soft, and his lip trembled. “I can’t presume to know what you’ve been through, and I don’t know what this means for our country. But thank you for everything you’ve done. For freeing my people—our people—from under Ryndel’s control, and for destroying the amulets.”
Reign stared at him, the silence growing increasingly uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry about what I did to the queen,” she said. Her hands twitched against her sides, but then she reached out and gripped Kalen’s hand tight. “However, you had no right to send me away. I was your daughter.”
The words hung in the air, heavier than the weight of the humidity.
“You still are my daughter.”
She stared at him. “I don’t know who I am or what I want, but at this moment, you’re not going to dictate my life. I have some choices to make, and I’m not sure yet where they will lead.”
The king’s hand lifted slightly, and he leaned forward as if he wanted to reach out to her, but he refrained. “I’m not sure that I can allow you the freedom to make those choices. You are still a threat to the kingdom, after all.” He stared off into the distance. “Your power is stronger than any I’ve seen. I may need you to stay close at hand.”
“No, Father.” Cirrus stepped in. “You are done controlling all the sorciers. If there’s anything we’ve learned in this, it’s that they are not weapons to be used at one’s disposal. They are our subjects, not our slaves.”
“And she’s not a threat.” Luna moved closer, her fingers twining with Cirrus’s. The king’s nostrils flared, and he refused to look at her. “The prophecy was if you sent her away. You did that, and she has returned.”
The king stared at Cirrus. “The prophecy is only over when she’s dead.”
“Then that is your fault,” Cirrus said. “You banished her. Everything that comes after is on your head.”
The king waved his hand in dismissal. “Let me speak to the council, and we will make a decision. In the meantime, stay close.”
Reign nodded and turned for the exit. Kalen was quick to do the same, followed by Cirrus and Luna.
“Cirrus, we need to discuss your upcoming training,” the king called after him.
The prince ignored him.
They followed Reign through the double doors and into the courtyard, which had brightened with sunlight as the storm had now completely passed. She picked up her pace, moving out into the bailey and up the stairs to the top of the ramparts, where the wind whipped at her hair. She yanked it free of its braid and stood still, looking out over the town below. Kalen stood beside her, their fingers laced together.
Reign was the first to break the silence. “Is it safe if I stay?”
“If not, we’ll go elsewhere,” Kalen answered.
“You can’t leave,” she said.
Kalen didn’t want to leave. He would have preferred to stay, support Cirrus, and help strengthen the kingdom. But if Reign left, he knew he would go with her. “My parents abandoned me years ago, and the king took me in only so he could keep me close and use me as a questioner. I certainly can’t stay in his employ and continue to delve into people’s minds. It’s slowly killing me; I can feel it.”
“But where would we go?”
“Anywhere. We can board Belrose’s ship and travel south if we want.”
“Great, more time on the open seas,” Luna said from Cirrus’s other side.
“It would be fun, Little Pebble,” Cirrus said.
“You can’t come with us,” Kalen said. “You’re next in line for the throne.”
“Exactly. I can do whatever I want. My father is in good health; I should be traveling and learning about the subjects. Ryndel was able to use the amulets to incite unrest far before the revolt, but perhaps they would have pushed past the anger had they been more aligned with the king.”
“I’m in,” Luna said.
A smile had crept across Reign’s lips while they all talked around her, and Kalen squeezed her fingers tighter. Cirrus threw one arm around Kalen’s shoulders and gripped Luna’s hand with his other hand. The road hadn’t been the easiest to traverse, but they’d found one another, repaired friendships, made new ones, and helped save the kingdom.
They stood there, the four of them, looking out over the city that would one day be theirs. Not yet. But one day.