Shadow of War Read online

  “Mmhm,” was all Bret could muster, his eyes sparkling at the boy’s enthusiasm.

  Tab walked to the hearth and shuffled logs, and flames danced merrily in response.

  “Ya know, we’re darn lucky we got peak watch. If there’s ten o’ these huts, only twenty Rangers are gonna sleep out o’ the cold tonight. Think o’ those poor boys roamin’ through the mountains on patrol, freezin’ their tits off.”

  Bret grinned. “Why don’t you use some of that luck and get us some more wood? Pile’s getting low.”

  Tab nodded, somehow excited to have a useful task, even after their long days of climbing. He threw on his heavy coat and stretched thick leather gloves over his stiff fingers.

  The pine-filled gust that rushed in when Tab opened the door nearly doused the fire. He stuck his head back through the open doorway. “Thought a little cool air might do ya good, old man.” He half-grinned and slammed the door.

  Bret found his head shaking again.

  The fire had dwindled to embers before Bret roused himself and realized Tab hadn’t returned. He didn’t think he’d dozed very long. He yawned and tossed off the blankets, stretching as he stood, then glanced out the window at the Kingdom army’s campfires below.

  Odd, there look to be fewer of them tonight, he thought. Wonder if the Kingdom finally tired of whatever exercises they’ve been running for the past five months. I’m sure tired of them.

  Before he could finish fastening the pegs on his thick furs, Tab burst through the door, slamming it shut behind him and pressing his back against it.

  “There’re men . . . shootin’ arrows!” He doubled over, trying to catch his breath.

  Bret grabbed his bow and threw a quiver over his shoulder. “How many? Did you get a look at them?”

  “I think four, maybe more, wearing Kingdom colors.”

  Bret finished pulling on his gloves. “Get away from that door. An arrow could snap through the wood and kill you.”

  Tab’s eyes popped open as he flung himself across the room.

  “Now listen to me, boy. I’m going out there to light the signal. When I get out the door, you need to run as fast as you can to HQ in Grove’s Pass. Tell them what you saw, that we lit the signal.” He gripped Tab roughly by the shoulders. “This is the most important thing you’ll ever do, Tab. Can you do it for me?”

  Tab nodded nervously. Confusion crept into his eyes. “But what about you?”

  Bret’s crooked smile carried a touch of sadness. “My time’s done, son. This is your war to fight. Now, let’s go.”

  Bret threw himself out the door toward the signal pyre. Bitter cold slapped his face, and his eyes dried almost immediately. He blinked a few times, then raced to hide behind the wood pile on the other side of the cabin.

  A loud whack behind Bret’s head made him dive to the hard, snow-packed ground. His eyes darted back to the red-fletched arrow still wobbling where it embedded into the wooden door. A second arrow struck a foot above his head.

  He scrambled behind the stacks of split wood and peered around the edge. The night was ablaze with light from the full moon, and he counted four silhouettes, each aiming arrows in his direction.

  Two slammed into the wood pile.

  He watched in horror as two more dark forms moved to either side. He was surrounded. He fired an arrow into the darkness and was rewarded with a loud cry. Two more arrows assaulted his position.

  Then movement to his right caught his eye. Tab. The boy’s back was turned as he sneaked into the forest.

  Good lad.

  The archers didn’t appear to notice Tab sneaking away, as their bows kept trained on Bret and his shield of logs.

  Another bolt hit the pile, the iron tip peeking between logs just above Bret’s head.

  In that moment, one thought screamed in his head. He’d made it through nearly twenty years of nights on watch; this wouldn’t be one of them.

  But he could help others make it through the night.

  He sprang to his feet, abandoning the cover of the wood pile. Two strides later, he threw himself into a roll, barreling across the yard, trying to create an unpredictable target for the archers bearing down on him. An arrow missed his head by a hair as another buried itself deep in his calf. He cried out but threw himself toward the cliff where the forty-hand signal pyre held its ancient vigil.

  His left hand gripped one of the massive logs at the pyre’s base, but two arrows caught him in the shoulder and back.

  He could feel blood flooding his lungs. Breath refused him.

  His heart raced.

  The world spun.

  With one last flick of his wrist, he used the last of his failing strength to call upon his Gift and send a tendril of flame into the cold wood.

  Three more arrows slammed into him as archers raced toward where he lay lifeless against the pyre.

  The mountain peak held its breath for a painful moment—until a loud whoosh rose from the belly of the pyre, engulfing the wood and its fallen guardian in an instant.

  A sun blazed atop the mountain, awake for the first time in a thousand years.

  In moments, answering stars roared to life on neighboring peaks along the range.

  And with them, the war began.

  7

  JESS

  Jess stared at the signet. It had always looked massive on her father’s hand. Now, it felt like it belonged on her slim finger, even though the weight of what it represented pressed against her spirit far more than her skin. She’d been preparing to rule her whole life but didn’t expect to actually wear the crown for another twenty years or more. She thought there was plenty of time to be a teenager and rebel, to have a normal life. As normal as life could be for the Crown Princess. Until her mother—

  An urgent sounding knock at her door snapped her alert. She straightened her blue blouse and stood before calling out, “Come in.”

  Sheriff Wilfred burst through the door with Keelan and Atikus close behind.

  “Your Majesty, we need you to leave—now.” The Sheriff’s normally placid voice carried near-panic as he rushed forward and began tossing her riding clothes into a satchel.

  “What? Why? Sheriff, what are you doing? I just got here.” Jess looked from Wilfred to Atikus, then Keelan.

  “Your Majesty, please. There’s no time. We’ll explain on the way.” Wilfred urged. When she didn’t move, he added, “Your life is in danger. We have to go.”

  Atikus stepped forward and offered Jess his hand. “Your Majesty, please come with me. Keelan will lead us out, and the Sheriff will follow with your things.”

  She was too exhausted and shocked to argue. Keelan turned on a heel, followed by Jess, then Atikus. As they walked down the narrow hall to the back stairs of the inn, Jess was surprised to find it empty. There had always been at least two men of the Royal Guard within shouting distance when she was simply the Crown Princess. There should’ve been more protecting the Queen.

  “Where are my guards?” Alarm entered her voice as she stopped. Atikus nearly knocked her down, bumping into her from behind.

  “The Royal Guard is waiting for us in the stables. The Captain arranged for his men to be elsewhere. Please, Your Majesty, we have to go,” Atikus said.

  Jess eyed the Mage, then reluctantly followed Keelan down the stairs and out a back door. They hustled to a small wooden stable that sat across the alley. Stalls for ten horses lined the old wooden barn, with the far corner hidden by stacks of baled hay. More hay littered the ground, but the place appeared well kept.

  A massive armored man’s head appeared from within one of the stalls where he was buckling a horse’s saddle.

  “Your Majesty.” Captain Proctor offered a shallow bow from behind the horse.

  “You? You’re in on this insane plan?” Jess stammered.

  He nodded but didn’t speak. His silence somehow set her blood boiling, and she stormed over to the stall where the giant stood, hands on her hips. “You agree? You think I should go with these men? These Melucians? What haven’t you told me? I’m not moving until someone explains everything.

  The man didn’t hesitate, his eyes didn’t waver. “Your Majesty . . . Jess, I held you in my arms the day you were born. I watched you grow. I’ve protected you, and your family, every day since. Protecting you is my life, and I would gladly give mine to save yours.” Rare, unchecked emotion marred his normally chiseled features. “Jess, I can’t keep you safe right now. My men are compromised, and I don’t know who to trust. I believe Atikus and Keelan are good men. Go with them. For your safety, as well as the Kingdom’s.”

  Jess’s mouth fell open, but she couldn’t speak. The palace guards had been her family’s most trusted knights for generations. There had never been a single incident of treachery or betrayal, at least not one that resulted in a member of the royal family’s death.

  The idea was ridiculous.

  And then she thought about how all this would look, how her people would see things. She’d only been worn the royal signet for a few hours, and here she was skulking through storeroom basements under muddy streets and running away with foreign—whatever Keelan was. The whole thing was insane. She stiffened her spine and turned to Wilfred.

  “Sheriff, I can’t do this. I’ll be handing the Crown to my mother. She won’t need to kill me because the people will beg her to take power from the frightened girl who abandoned them with two of their enemies. I command you to take me back to the inn right now!” Jess’s hands flew back to her hips, and she tried to imitate her mother’s best icy stare.

  Captain Proctor stepped forward, but Wilfred raised his palm. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost somber.

  “Jess, if you stay, you will die. Isabel will probably kill me the moment her feet touch the s
hore.” He put a hand on her arm, something he would never do outside of the family’s private quarters. If he hadn’t been her adopted uncle, and they weren’t fleeing for their lives, he might’ve lost that hand for touching the Princess, now Queen. “Please, Jess. If they kill you, we won’t be able to stop any of this. The Kingdom will go to war and thousands, hundreds of thousands, will die. Your people will suffer. Keelan and Atikus’s people will suffer far worse. You have to leave to protect them, to give them at least a sliver of hope for the future.”

  Whatever ice was left in her eyes melted at his plea. The man standing before her now wasn’t the High Sheriff. This was Uncle Sebastiano. The truth of his words wormed their way in, and she lowered her gaze.

  She whispered, “Where will we go?”

  “I don’t know—and you can’t tell me. Who knows what powers your mother may command if the Mages fall in behind her? They could pluck information out of my head, and this would all be for nothing. I trust Keelan and Atikus to keep you safe.”

  From behind her, Atikus spoke. “We need to get as far from here as possible before Queen Isabel gets here. We need to go.”

  Jess spun, finger pointed accusingly at the Mage. “She’s just Isabel. I am Queen now.”

  Despite their danger, Atikus smiled and bowed. “Yes, you are, Your Majesty.”

  Moments later, Keelan and Atikus were walking their mounts to the stable’s back door, and Jess found her courage. She nodded to Captain Proctor and turned to the Sheriff. Wilfred surprised her again by wrapping her in a tight hug. He was the father of the traitor who’d turned her over to Isabel, and something in that embrace told her he carried more than familial love for her; he carried the burden of his son’s betrayal. She squeezed him back and gave him a peck on the cheek.

  When she turned to follow Atikus, Captain Proctor handed her the reins to her stallion, which she’d somehow failed to notice until then. She let out a squeal and threw her arms around Dittler, her most trusted friend and companion. The magnificent beast nuzzled her neck with his nose and licked her ear.

  “I’m glad to see you, too,” she said, stroking his ear. “How did you get away, boy?”

  “Time for that later, Majesty. Up you go.” Captain Proctor abandoned protocol and lifted Jess by her waist onto the saddle. When she looked down, shocked the guard would dare “handle” his Queen, he gave her a wink and a bow.

  “Just protecting Her Majesty. Now go!”

  She trotted out of the stable to find Keelan and Atikus mounting their horses, and the strangeness of another escape through the back door of a stable sent a shiver down her spine. She had trusted a good man then, too.

  And he’d betrayed her.

  * * *

  It didn’t take long for the trio to wind their way past the northern border of town. Getting through the endless sea of soldiers camped in the fields outside was more challenging. By the time they’d made it into open fields, Jess was struggling to stay upright. Events of the past few days were finally taking their toll. If Dittler had been any other mount, she would’ve ended up in the dirt long ago. The Cretian stallion had grown up with Jess on his back and felt her exhaustion through their bond. He’d die before letting her fall. Four hours into their journey, Keelan called a halt. Atikus looked little better than Jess, and his own horse needed a break.

  “Thank the Spirits,” Atikus groaned, as he struggled to dismount.

  “Don’t get too comfortable,” Keelan said. “We had a head start, but Isabel will throw everything she’s got at us once she takes control of the town. We’re sitting ducks out here.”

  Keelan surveyed the landscape. There wasn’t a tree or hill in sight, just an ocean of grass clinging to its last vestige of life before winter arrived in earnest. Things had been so crazy lately he hadn’t noticed how morning started a few moments later each day. But the sun’s drowsy arrival that morning reminded him that winter pursued them as much as Isabel and her troops.

  Jess hopped off Dittler and caught Keelan staring. He offered a smile, but she ignored him, spread her cloak on the ground, and curled into a ball. She was asleep before he turned away.

  “Any idea where we are, or where we’re headed?” Atikus asked between gulps from his waterskin.

  “We went north out of town. That’s about all I know. I studied some maps before we left, but don’t remember much north of the King’s Road. Our plan didn’t exactly call for a royal escape through the countryside.”

  Atikus chuckled. “I’d almost think that was humor in your voice, if I didn’t know you so well.”

  Keelan gave Atikus his most serious “I’m a big, bad Guardsman” stare before cracking a grin of his own. All the Mage had to do was wiggle his unruly brows, and Keelan lost his composure. It had been that way since he was a boy. Little Declan would have peed his britches. The thought of his brother turned Keelan’s smile wistful.

  Jess thrashed and grumbled in her sleep, and she muttered Justin’s name several times. Keelan grimaced as he imagined the pained dreams that must’ve haunted her. He exchanged a worried glance with Atikus before squatting beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  “Your Majesty,” he half-whispered. “It’s just a dream.”

  It took a moment for her eyes to flutter and lock onto his.

  She jerked back. “What are you doing? Don’t touch me.”

  Keelan raised his hand in surrender but didn’t stand or leave her side. “It looked like you were fighting pretty hard in your sleep.”

  Jess wiped her eyes and sat up, then wrapped her arms around her legs, now folded against her chest. She stared at the ground, unable to meet Keelan’s eyes again. He started to stand when she didn’t speak, but her quiet voice froze him in place.

  “I saw Justin on the balcony. He called out my name, and I looked up in time to see the men around him fall. Their bodies flew backwards. One slammed against the wall. I thought the other man would fall over the railing, but he just slumped there, peering down. His eyes never closed.” She put her face in her hands, fighting tears that didn’t come. “In the dreams, my brother took the bolts, over and over. I saw him slam into the wall. A moment later, he fell over the railing. Then, somehow, he was standing in front of me in the chamber, bolts sticking out of his chest. He fell to his knees, struggling to stay upright, before dropping face down. He kept dying in front of me.”

  Keelan’s legs began to ache from squatting, so he unfolded them and sat on the cold grass beside her. She finally looked up at him.

  “Do you think he’s alive?” she asked.

  Keelan tried to soften his voice, but his rigid Guard mind spewed a factual report. “I don’t know. I saw his guards fall, but he ran into the hallway. I don’t think he’d been shot at that point. I didn’t see him again.”

  “He’s dead,” she said flatly. “In my heart, I know they killed him. She killed him.”

  “She?”

  “My mother. Isabel. The woman in the red dress and mask made of skin.” Jess shivered at the memory of the blank mask, hate-filled eyes glaring through holes torn in flesh.

  Atikus finally joined them and sat crossed-legged across from Jess. “Why would your mother want to hurt the Prince?”

  She shook her head. “That’s just it. She wouldn’t. I don’t—I can’t explain that. Justin has always been her favorite. We all knew it. We even joked about it. She wanted to throw me off the roof of the palace most of the time, or seemed to, but she would die for her baby boy. That’s what she called him.”

  Atikus placed a weathered hand on her ankle, patting it gently. “Your Majesty, we can’t imagine how you feel right now. But we’re going to help you. At least, we’re going to try.”

  The old Mage’s tight smile and wrinkled brow reminded her of her father, and her heart lurched from gratitude to helpless grief. She choked back tears.

  “Why would she kill Dad? They’d been married more than twenty years. They’d ruled together. They did everything together. Why kill him?”

  Atikus ran a hand down his beard, as if searching for answers in the wispy hair. “I don’t know why she would kill either of them. The only thing that makes any sense is that their deaths played some role in her ceremony somehow, or what she hoped to accomplish by performing the ritual. But we don’t even know what that goal was. Your Majesty—”