Chapter 2
Ikar
Guilt claws at me for leaving Vera the way I did, but it’s only a matter of time until someone notices me if the charm has worn off, and I can’t have her staying at the castle—not that I think she would even agree to that in the first place.
And the fact that glamours don’t work for her eyes?
The woman grows more mysterious with every detail I learn about her.
I refocus my thoughts. There will be time later to figure her out. For now, she should be safe enough within Moneyre, but even with that reassuring thought, I worry. She has a knack for finding trouble and only has her small dagger to defend herself with—something I plan to fix immediately.
I quicken my pace, making my way through Moneyre and its beautiful winding streets as my thoughts turn to Darvy and Rhosse.
Is it possible they’re alive? Two of my top commanders and best friends since childhood—they’re like brothers to me.
They can’t be dead. But if anything can kill one, or even two, of the best soldiers in Moneyre, it’s the Lucent River and the monsters that inhabit its murky depths.
I grudgingly try to think of who I’ll choose to build a team to head into the Lucent Mountains with if Rhosse and Darvy haven’t returned, even though it feels as if I’m giving up hope.
But if they haven’t returned… if they’ve died…
even mourning can’t keep me from the journey to come, not when an entire kingdom full of people depend on me to repair the dying lucent.
While I’m eager to rush to the castle to seek out news of Darvy and Rhosse, I must make one stop first. I glance up at the sign for the weapons charmer and duck through the doorway into the familiar, shadow-filled interior.
Weapons of all sorts line the walls and rest on dark-blue velvet cushions as if they display the most priceless of gems. To a man of war, they are.
A bear of a man lumbers from a back room at the ring of the bell on the door, squinting to see who’s entered. I lower my hood, curious to see if he’ll recognize me.
“Your Majesty.” Renoff inclines his head.
And there’s my answer—the charm has worn off.
I slide my pack off my shoulders and kneel to find what I’m searching for—it doesn’t take long for my fingers to graze its smooth surface.
I stand and hand the enormous ivory bantha claw to Renoff. “Can you craft me a short sword? I’d like this to be the hilt.” I can barely suppress the grin that twitches about my lips as I imagine Vera’s expression when she sees her new weapon. “I’ll need it in two days.”
“Two days?” Renoff takes the claw with a frown and carefully inspects its length and width.
I see the doubt in his furrowed brow. “I’ll pay triple. I’d like it enchanted as well.”
He growls as he considers, still turning it in his hands. I know I ask much. He looks up at me. “As you know, enchantments have become the last of lucent to weaken, but they are wearing off faster than ever. I’ll do it, but don’t expect it to last longer than a few months now.”
Neither of us points out the sad fact that an enchanted weapon used to only have to be enchanted once in its lifetime.
My mark seems to burn with guilt at the sight of the weariness on his face. Why is it that lucent seems to be decaying so much more quickly during my reign? My chest tightens, reminding me of the likely reason—my worthiness. Or lack thereof.
I nod. “I’ll send my team’s weapons to be reenchanted, as well.”
I give him a few other details about the style and length before I lift my hood once more and duck out the door.
I finally throw my hood back when I’ve reached the castle doors.
“Your Majesty.” The guard snaps to attention, eyes wide with surprise at my abrupt and unusual entry—no guards, no entourage, no other soldiers at my side… no Darvy or Rhosse.
“My first and second commanders, are they here?” I try to keep my voice even.
“Not yet, but they—”
I don’t hear what else he says as the grief I’ve kept at bay with shreds of hope comes to the surface and tightens my chest until I fear it will never expand again.
My brothers. I pull my hood back over my head and continue walking, slipping into a hallway drenched in shadows from the angle of the three suns.
I don’t have the privilege of showing emotion of this depth beyond my private rooms…
but my rooms are the last place I want to be.
I lean against the cold stone wall in the shadows with a fist pressed against the pressure building painfully in my chest and will the burning behind my eyes to ease.
But waves of sorrow keep building, and suddenly this shadowy hallway feels so suffocating it’s as if a tight hand is wrapped around my throat.
I turn and stalk toward the training grounds where I know there will be someone to spar with.
I grip the pommel of my sword like a lifeline, but I can’t summon enough mercy to feel bad for whatever poor soul will face me. Sword fighting has always been my outlet for emotion, and right now I need it more than ever.
I yank my hood off before I enter the training grounds.
My soldiers jerk to attention as I walk past, startled by my sudden presence.
Groups of soldiers are split up across the grounds in fenced-off areas.
Distant cheers and shouts echo from one group along with the clashing of weapons, but in moments, everything is quiet, and I have their complete attention.
I whip off my cloak, hop a fence into one of the arenas, and pull my sword with so much speed it leaves a sharp ring in the air.
Emotion causes an impulsiveness I don’t usually cater to as anger and sorrow mix into duty-bound recklessness.
I want to punch something, fall to my knees alone in the woods and scream to Lucentia over my brothers.
But I have a kingdom to save, and my team isn’t going to form itself.
“You will compete to join my team to journey into the Lucent Mountains.” My voice carries easily, the challenge clear. I eye the men I grudgingly listed as candidates for my team if it turned out that Darvy and Rhosse had actually d—
I shake my head, refusing to finish the thought.
Donovan, my third commander, steps forward. I press my lips together. He’s a worthy fighter, one I put at the top of my new list. He scales the fence easily and swings his sword around, preparing for the fight. He’s already drenched in sweat, and it’s apparent he’s already been training hard.
I waste no time, show no mercy.
Our swords hit hard, the shock of the collision reverberating up my arm.
“Welcome back, Your Majesty,” he grunts as steel slides along steel.
He steps back and then swings again. I block it easily.
In moments I fall into a rhythm I haven’t felt since before I left to find a Black Tulip.
We go on that way for several minutes, but I know I’ll need to pick it up to beat Donovan—there’s a reason he’s a commander.
Before I can, I sense another presence behind me.
Probably one of Donovan’s tricks to try to beat me as he’s tried in the past. I spin around, prepared to take on a second opponent as my sword, already swinging, hits another’s loudly.
“I do hope you saved me a spot on the team,” Darvy says with a cocky grin as our swords stay crossed at the blades between us. “I think Rhosse’ll be hurt if you don’t invite him too, even though we know I’m the better swordsman.”
“You willing to bet on that?” Rhosse drawls as he jumps the fence.
They’re alive.
I freeze, the steel of our swords still pressed together, unbelieving that my friends stand before me. “The guard said you hadn’t returned yet...”
Rhosse grins. “We left on a training exercise this morning; he probably thought we were still there.”
I finally release my stance and sheathe my sword, and immediately they step forward, pulling me into brotherly hugs with several strong claps on the back. I find myself blinking to reduce suspicious burning in the backs of my eyes, but this time triggered by relief instead of grief.
I turn to wave off the many soldiers who I’d just ordered to compete, but Donovan already took care of it. Everyone has returned to training. He offers me a distant salute, to which I nod.
I turn back around. “When did you return?”
Darvy speaks first. “The Lucent River spit us out near Kivan. Didn’t take long to make it back.”
“Would’ve been faster if not for the bite Darvy took from the river monster,” Rhosse adds. “Took us two days in Kivan to get a healer and originator to help mend him enough to travel.”
I look Darvy’s way with concern, but he shrugs. “I’m fine. Just a bit of a limp I can’t seem to kick.”
My brows pull together. “Maybe you should stay home this—”
“Don’t even suggest it,” Darvy growls. “I’ll prove I can fight if I need to.”
I shake my head. I trust him. He is a healer, after all. “Fine. But I thought the two of you were dead the entire time. Don’t ever do that to me again.”
Rhosse scoffs. “You thought we were dead? You’ve taken twice as long to return as we did! Scared years off our lives, Ikar. You left us to make up stories about why we returned without you, and Jethonan sees right through it. It’s a good thing you came back or he’d have thrown us in the stocks.”
I chuckle, imagining Jethonan doing just that. “The woman we rescued from the goblins? She was a bounty hunter… of sorts. She arrested me and blocked my magic. And worse, the river chose to take us to the far end of the kingdom.”
Darvy snorts. “You got arrested by a bounty hunter?”
“Yes, and now I’ve hired her to be the originator on our team.”
Both men are silent, and after a moment, Rhosse finally speaks. “For a journey such as this… don’t you think there might be a better fit? Or maybe even Nadiette?”
“You know I won’t ask Nadiette.” I see the knowing looks on their faces; I don’t have to explain why. “I’ve spent enough time with Vera to know she’s powerful—how powerful I don’t know. But I sense it. More than another expert swordsman, we need lucent magic.”
Darvy cocks a brow. “Oh, it’s Vera now? First-name basis?”
Suddenly, I want to punch him in the face.
“That’s how it usually goes when you travel with someone for over a week,” I growl.
“Of course it is,” Rhosse says placatingly, but why do I feel like they can see straight through it all? What did I say that gave away my feelings? What have I done in contracting Vera? I stifle a groan. I hired her because I need her—in more ways than one.