Chapter 10 The Arrival
Castien’s blade crashed into Finn’s with a force that reverberated down Castien’s arm.
“I thought we were sparring,” Finn grunted and pushed Castien’s sword back with his own.
“I have yet to slit your throat. I’d consider that sparring,” Castien replied as he backed away from Finn, light on his feet.
“This level of force is unnecessary. Can’t you find some naive first-year to take your frustrations out on?” Finn lunged. Castien danced away.
“We’re practicing. I’m not taking anything out on you.”
Castien swiped at his cousin, who deflected the move with the side of his blade.
“Don’t play the fool, Castien, it doesn’t suit you,” Finn said through labored breaths. They’d been sparring for the better part of an hour. It was something they had done often since they were children growing up on the Lucent Enclave together.
The two young men circled each other, swords raised and glinting in the midday sun.
Rivulets of sweat ran down their bare chests.
This was the only time that the fog lifted off the isle.
Many of the students and staff seized the opportunity to bask in the rare rays, but Castien took advantage of the heightened visibility in other ways by heading to the training grounds.
The grassy area was used during the semester for weapons training, but was also a popular picnic spot.
Since the majority of the students and staff were either traversing the Tides or unpacking from their travels, there was no one around to overhear them aside from Heathford, who stood nearby ready to serve.
“You’re upset that you didn’t solve this before people began arriving,” Finn said.
Castien did nothing but glare. He wished his cousin could just let him be.
What was so bad about working off some steam with a little swordfighting?
Castien’s father had taught him to channel emotion into physical challenge in order to keep his mind clear.
His Gift worked best when he didn’t allow any emotions to slip to the surface.
“I’m not upset. It’s more opportunity to speak to possible witnesses or suspects,” Castien said before lunging toward Finn, who dodged him.
“One of these days you will talk about your feelings rather than bury them,” Finn grumbled.
“Perhaps the same day you stop disguising yours with wit,” Castien quipped, earning a smile.
“Nice to hear you think me witty, dear cousin.” He held his hand up when Castien readied to strike again. “I need water.”
Castien lowered his sword. “Very well. A break, then.”
Finn gave him a look that read as if he was done for the day, but said nothing.
The two of them walked toward Heathford, who stood stoic despite the heat beating down on his black and burgundy attire.
He held a silver tray with two glasses of water, and there were two white towels draped over his left arm.
Castien took a glass, and so did Finn. They downed the lukewarm water in seconds before each grabbed a towel to mop the sweat off their faces and chests.
“Did you boys hear I was arriving and decide to put on a show for me?” A silky voice purred.
Castien blinked open his eyes. There, in a gown far too elaborate for sailing the Tides, stood Princess Calypsia Voltayre of Grimhaven.
Her corset was covered in various gems and pearls, while her skirts flowed out around her, pinned with tiny pink bows.
She smiled, and Castien felt as though he was staring at a cryptura.
There was a sharpness about Calypsia’s beauty that tended to unnerve those she interacted with.
Her collarbones stuck out too far, her jaw was razor-like, and her smile presented as predatory.
Castien did not fear her, but he also did not favor her.
She was a Grimhaven-born through and through.
Vicious to the core. Most raised in Grimhaven turned out on the bloodthirsty side, but being raised royal was another rank of evil.
They were cutthroat in the truest sense of the word.
The way one took the Grimhaven throne was by killing the person on it, even if they were family.
“If we’d known you were arriving, we would have hidden for fear of being cursed by your shadow,” Finn said before grabbing his shirt off the grass.
Castien smirked. Calypsia’s smile did not wane.
“It is a shame that you’re nothing more than a petty jester to your cousin’s kingship, Finnick. I’d enjoy having a pretty thing like you on my arm.”
Finn buttoned his shirt quicker than he had parried Castien’s attacks.
Calypsia’s dark gaze raked over Castien’s abdomen next.
He grabbed his shirt, not caring to be on display for the vile woman.
She made known her attraction to Castien, as well as her interest in his position as prince.
After spending the last year in the Order together, Castien was certain he wanted nothing to do with Calypsia outside of necessity.
“How is your sister?” Castien asked before Finn could hurl a veiled insult. “I trust her transition to the Wild Holm went well?”
Calypsia’s smile thinned at the reminder of her debt to Castien.
Before the end of last semester, he orchestrated a deal with the future duke and graduating student, Oaks Riverbarrow.
The Duke would court Calypsia’s younger sister in exchange for a hefty dowry.
Calypsia would have one less threat to her future crown, and Oaks would have money to rebuild the estate his father had run into the ground.
Calypsia attempted to make the deal on her own, but it was Castien’s word of approval that sent the man to Grimhaven at the beginning of Eventide.
“It went smoothly, yes. Her wedding was grand, and her departure even more so.”
Castien nodded. “I’m certain everyone involved is better off because of the match.”
“Everyone but Oaks, who got a viper for a wife,” Finn muttered under his breath next to Castien.
Calypsia’s gaze cut to Finn as though she might have caught his words.
“Princess Calypsia.” A lady’s maid dressed in frilly pink skirts that coordinated with the bows on Calypsia’s ensemble glided toward the group. “The staff needs your direction on where to put your belongings.”
Castien lifted his gaze to the docks, where several academy staff were lugging large trunks off the ship. He was certain it would take several trips to bring it all to her chambers.
“I will be right there,” Calypsia said, then dismissed the maid with a sharp flick of her wrist. The young woman scurried off in a manner that displayed a healthy fear of her mistress.
Calypsia met Castien’s gaze. Her eyes were the color of algae.
“I will see you both in the dining hall. I have a feeling it’s going to be an entertaining year.” She curtsied. Castien nor Finn bowed in return. Both of their mothers would be furious, but their fathers would admire the strategy behind their slight.
Calypsia narrowed her eyes before turning and gliding off in the direction of the House of Adira, where she resided.
Finn shivered exaggeratedly. “Breathing the same air as her feels wrong.”
“That much evil is bound to cause a visceral reaction,” Castien replied.
He stuck his sword into his scabbard, then pushed his hair back. It was starting to resemble Finn’s with how it fell onto his forehead.
“I was hoping to go over my notes in the study for the rest of the day, but now I suppose I’ll have to make an appearance in the dining hall.” He couldn’t have Calypsia thinking she had any hand in his not showing.
“It will be good for you to get out of that room. Perhaps your Gift will pick up on something new with all the fresh faces around,” Finn suggested as he sheathed his sword.
“Perhaps,” Castien echoed.
He was growing weary of this puzzle. His Gift had never been wrong.
There was no reason to doubt it now. He simply wished it would present an answer to at least one of the many questions it posed to him.
The timing was not ideal, either. He would be expected to call a meeting of the Obsidian Order at the start of a new semester.
It was not often that the Order met all at once.
It would be suspicious for so many of the school’s most elite students to disappear at the same time.
But at the beginning of every semester, the High Inquisitor was expected to address the members.
Throughout the year, Castien would be called upon for problems and maneuvers to ensure the best for those in the Order.
At this initial meeting, he would make it known to members new and old how the system worked, the rules for aiding one another, and remind them of the importance of secrecy.
This was all easy enough. As the son of an emperor, he was accustomed to addressing crowds and handling problems. The subject of Heron Kalyxi’s death, however, was not one Castien was looking forward to speaking about.
He preferred having answers, whether he planned on revealing them or not, before discourse.
“What do you think Calypsia meant by she thought this year would be entertaining?” Finn asked.
Castien set off toward the House of Arythes.
Before facing the crowds in the dining hall this evening, he wanted some time to himself.
He and Finn walked near the shrubs that lined the Wall.
The looming structure shadowed their steps and cooled them from the sun. Heathford followed ten paces behind.
“I don’t attempt to know the inner workings of her demented mind,” Castien groused.
“And if she had something to do with Kalyxi’s death?”
Castien cut his eyes toward his cousin. “Then I would need more evidence besides our disdain for her existence.”
Their grassy path led them to the House of Onyxim first, where many of the professors lived.
The house had only one color scheme: black.
The wood siding, ornate trim, shutters, and porch; every piece of the building was darker than night itself.
Many first-year students were known to run right into it on especially dark evenings.
Castien and Finn scanned the area as they passed for any professors who could overhear their conversation.
“Her being from Grimhaven should be evidence enough,” Finn said in a low tone.
There were several students and a few professors from Grimhaven at the academy. Not all of them were as vindictive as Calypsia, but they were all extremely competitive and self-seeking.
“But it isn’t. So we will continue our search.”
Finn sighed. “Of course, High Inquisitor.”
Castien shot him a reprimanding look for his brazen use of Order terms in public. Finn did not seem to pay him any mind. The two walked up the steps of their shared house.
“Prince Castien!”
Castien turned toward the voice. One of the younger, newer members of the Order came rushing toward the bottom of the stairs.
Percilean Dalor was from the Lucent Enclave and had been following Castien and Finn around like a lost puppy since they were all children.
When Percilean’s Gift of engineering made itself known on his thirteenth birthday, Castien’s father told him to be sure to nurture the younger boy to secure his loyalty to the Lucent Enclave in the future.
Castien had done just that, in spite of the annoyance Percilean often inspired.
“Yes, Percilean?” Castien asked.
“Professor Ivanhild is back from the Wild Holm! The ship just came into port.”
The ship must have been closing in when Castien was distracted by Calypsia’s nonsense.
“And what does this matter to me?” Castien drolled.
“Lady Wren Kalyxi is on the boat,” Percilean panted. He must have run from the docks.
Castien stiffened. He felt Finn’s gaze on him.
Heron’s sister was on the Whispering Isle. Eventide was almost over, so this was not a visit. She would be staying.
“This year will be entertaining, indeed,” Finn murmured.
Castien ignored Finn and Percilean both. He stalked inside and up to his room. All the while, his Gift painted the air with theories.