The Edge of Shadow, page 1
part #5 of The Kin of Kings Series
Contents
COPYRIGHT
SERIES ORDER
MAP
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
EPILOGUE
NEW RELEASES
AUTHOR INFORMATION
THE EDGE OF SHADOW
BOOK 5, THE FINAL OF THE KIN OF KINGS SERIES
Copyright 2016 by B.T. Narro
Cover and Map by Beatriz Garrido: @beatrize_garrido
With Interior Illustrations also by Beatriz Garrido.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is coincidental.
All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the express written permission of the copyright holder.
THE KIN OF KINGS SERIES
1. The Kin of Kings
2. Rise of Legends
3. Shadows of Kings
4. A Crumble of Walls
5. The Edge of Shadow
CHAPTER ONE
Basen felt as though everything was finally right, and then he saw Sanya and realized how wrong he must be. A swarm of guards surrounded her as she hobbled past Basen with a bloody bandage around her leg. At least a day old, it didn’t look to be helping much anymore. Taking Sanya’s cloudy eyes into consideration, it was clear she’d walked through the night to make it to the Academy by morning. Whatever brought her here was dire.
She didn’t notice Basen until he was right in front of her. “What is this?” he asked.
“The war isn’t over,” she told him.
“So who leads the army now?”
“Ulric.”
But he died…it must’ve been a trick.
“The announcement of his death was for what purpose then?”
“I’ll tell you at the stadium, with everyone else.”
“You can’t go there! Mages bring their wands with them everywhere. You’ll be burned alive before you can get two words out.”
“No, they’ll have to listen.” She set her gaze ahead of her and walked with purpose. “After I’m done, I will accept whatever fate they decide for me.”
“Sanya, stop. Sanya!”
“I will not.”
Basen looked down past his bare chest at the towel around his waist and muttered a curse. This had been the only opportunity to bathe and change out of his soiled clothing since returning to the Academy. With Alabell looking after Neeko, Basen’s assistance was no longer needed in the medical building. He’d hoped to clean himself swiftly and hurry to Redfield to catch the end of Terren’s announcement. Surely, the headmaster would be proclaiming Tauwin’s death and the end of the war at any moment now.
The bathing house was close to Basen’s student home, so he hurried back, dressed as quickly as he could, and started for the door, only to stop short. He went back for his wand, hoping he wouldn’t need to use it.
He sprinted to catch up to Sanya, thankful she was slow. When he rejoined them, he spoke to the guards first. “You can’t let her enter the stadium. They’ll kill her.”
“If she wants to go there, we’ll take her there,” answered one of them.
Basen scoffed as he came around to Sanya’s side.
“Stay back,” one of the guards warned him. “She’s dangerous.”
But Sanya’s hands were tied behind her back, her lips dry and cracked, her eyelids heavy. Basen counted an even ten guards around them.
“She’s not going to do anything to us,” Basen said. “Are there more of you watching the land from the walls? This might be a trap.”
Most seemed offended by his question. “Of course,” a couple muttered.
Good, then he could focus on the dilemma at hand. “Sanya, why must you go to the stadium at this moment? Effie is there, along with many others who want you dead.”
“Terren can’t wait a moment longer to find out the war isn’t over.”
“Just tell me what he needs to hear, and I can interrupt his announcement. Was it Ulric himself who wanted everyone to think he was dead, or was it someone else who planned it?”
“Keep me alive long enough to say everything I need to and you’ll find out.”
“I can’t do that alone. And look at yourself, Sanya. You can’t even run if you need to.” He gave her a tiny push. She stumbled and then let out something between a hiss and a growl.
“You idiot! I’m trying to help you.”
“I’m trying to help you, as you can’t seem to realize you’re walking toward your death.”
“I’ve already faced death and ran. I’m tired of running. Just make sure I’m protected until I’m done speaking. It’s for the Academy’s benefit.”
They weren’t far from the red walls of the stadium. It was here that all the names of the students who’d fallen in war were written. Would Sanya’s name go on the wall after she was killed? Basen doubted it.
He groaned in frustration. “I have little control over sartious energy, which might be the only thing that can stop the onslaught of fireballs that will rain down upon you as the fury of hundreds of mages—”
“Then get someone else!” she snapped.
He put himself in front of her. “Give me time to figure out what to do.”
She lifted her hand and hit him with a spell of pain. The surprise of it alone was enough to take him to his knees as she limped around him. She released him, but not without a warning. “Do not get in my way again. It took me too long to get here, and the Academy doesn’t have much time.”
He shelved his anger for the moment. “Before what?”
“An attack. Hurry to get someone to protect me if you cannot.” She showed no sign of stopping as she approached the open gate of Redfield.
“You won’t need anyone to protect you if you listen to me.” Basen hurried out in front of Sanya to stop her, then held up his hands as he walked backward. “Don’t move. I’ll get Terren, and you can tell him what you need to say.”
“He won’t believe me. I need a stadium full of psychics as I speak. Only then will it be impossible for me to lie.”
“Do you want to die?”
The question was rhetorical, but her cold look made him wonder if it was actually a possibility.
She thought for a little while, then said, “I will accept whatever the Academy decides to do with me.”
Basen cursed and ran into the stadium. Sanya yelled after him, “I’m following you in a few moments! I must face Terren inside.”
Sanya had always been stubborn in her refusal to listen to logic, but this was bordering on madness. Expecting to find Terren in the center and everyone else in the audience, Basen was shocked to see the sandy arena crowded with the entire army of the Academy. Lines had been formed, separated by factions.
Nearest to the only exit were the original troops of the Academy, all students and instructors in somewhat organized lines with a psychic facing them at the front to question one person at a time. In the center of the arena stood the men of Basen’s father. All in uniform, and holding perfect lines, they made the students and instructors of the Academy look messy. But the least organized were on the far side, Abith’s men. Or were they allegiant only to Crea?
Basen had spent enough time training with Abith by now to wonder if he really had any power over those who’d come here from Tenred. Up until the recent battle, Abith had spent nearly every hour of each day helping Basen learn how to manipulate energy to increase his speed and strength as he fought with sword. It didn’t seem possible that he had any time to plan something with Crea. Though she was Basen’s cousin, there was no love lost between them.
Basen looked for Crea briefly among the thousands of them and soon figured she was still missing. She’d left before Basen’s mother had returned, certainly frightened of Henry’s wrath for putting Juliana in prison. But Crea was much more of a threat out of sight than she would be here at the Academy where people could keep watch over her.
Basen sprinted over to Terren and asked, “What’s going on?”
“Everyone’s loyalty needs to be questioned before I announce Tauwin’s death. If Abith has a takeover planned with his men, we’re going to find out now.”
“Sanya is moments away from entering the arena,” Basen said in a hushed voice .
“Captured?”
He was amazed at Terren’s lack of surprise. “No, she came willingly. Ten guards surround her, but none seem interested in keeping her from entering where mages like Effie will certainly burn her with fire.”
Terren pointed at Reela, who was just about to question Abith. “Hold your questioning!”
She spun. “What’s wrong?”
Basen muttered to Terren, “We need Abith. He’s the only one who can shield Sanya well enough from fireballs to keep her alive.”
Terren gave Basen a look as if he’d claimed they all had to bow before Sanya. “That’s absurd. I won’t have Abith involved in this. I’ll speak with her while I take her to prison, and then I’ll return.”
Basen didn’t question how the headmaster expected to get her to prison because it didn’t matter. “Sanya won’t allow that. She’ll come in any moment now.”
“Why?”
“She says there’s no time and you won’t believe her unless she’s questioned in a stadium full of psychics. She might be right about at least one thing she told me—we have no time. We need Abith now.” Basen looked over his shoulder at the entrance and saw Sanya emerging. Fortunately, no one else in the stadium was looking yet.
Unfortunately, Terren wasn’t either. He was too focused on his potential rival. “If Abith is planning a betrayal, he will do anything to get out of this questioning. We can’t let him move.”
Sanya stopped and looked around nervously. Movement among Henry’s troops turned Basen away from her. Henry seemed to be covertly organizing his men to surround Abith’s line as if to prevent escape. He and Terren were sharing looks of understanding as Terren pushed Basen toward the exit.
“Go,” Terren demanded. “I don’t care what she says. You will keep her from entering and disrupting this questioning.”
With no time to spare, Basen sprinted back to the entrance. All eyes were on the commotion around Abith. Questioning on every line had stopped, the air laden with hostility.
“Not yet,” Basen whispered to Sanya with a hand on her back. “Just wait a moment.”
She refused to move. “No.”
“Yes!” he hissed and scooped her up.
“Put me down!” She elbowed him in the side but he gritted his teeth through the pain and rushed her out. He set her on her feet, but she fell to the ground as if she hadn’t the strength to keep herself up any longer.
“I despise you, Basen,” she whimpered. It sounded as if she was holding in tears. “Can’t you see that I want to face them all!”
She pushed herself up and trudged toward the stadium’s entrance again, looking as if she would ravage Basen with tooth and nail if he didn’t get out of her way.
He did not budge. “Just one moment, Sanya.”
“I will hurt you.”
There was a surprising lack of reaction from all the guards, even as Basen looked at them incredulously. “Won’t you detain her? It’s Terren’s orders!”
Many shook their heads. “She can get herself killed if she wants,” one muttered.
They’d tried to control her earlier, Basen realized as he looked closer at their faces of anger. She’d pained them all.
“Hurt me if you must,” Basen told Sanya. “I’m not going to let you enter.”
She took in a breath as if she might attack but then let it out as sadness twisted her face.
“Why go through so much trouble to protect me?”
“I’m not just keeping you from killing yourself,” he explained. “I’m keeping you from sparking a battle. The politics within the Academy are shaky, ready to fall apart, and your sudden appearance would be like a boulder from a catapult striking the Academy. You’re so caught up in making this into something about yourself that you don’t see how you’ll affect everyone else in that stadium. Just wait here, and you’ll have your time in front of them soon enough.” Anger had finally slipped out through his tone. “God’s mercy, Sanya, I don’t understand why you always have to be this difficult.”
But then he noticed something about her that had been evident this whole time. Her ragged breathing, her sweating, the clinch of her face—she wasn’t just exhausted; she was terrified.
“I can’t be brave enough to face them all for much longer. I have to go now, or I might never.”
Finally Basen was beginning to understand. He thought of a few choice words.
“You are brave enough. You’ve come this far.”
CHAPTER TWO
Cleve had been watching Abith closely before Basen ran into the stadium and spoke with Terren. When Basen started back the way he’d come, Cleve watched Abith even closer. Something was wrong—everyone in the stadium could sense it as all focus switched to Abith and the line of men behind him.
“Resume questioning!” Terren announced, mostly for Reela’s benefit as he looked straight at her.
Terren had allowed Cleve to go without examination, a privilege shared only by the Krepps. But it wasn’t as if Cleve’s uncle trusted the savage creatures as much as he did Cleve. They just didn’t have the capacity for something as complex as an organized betrayal. But with Abith—everyone knew he wanted to be headmaster. If something was planned to further that goal, it would happen now, when the war was all but over.
The leader of the Krepps leaned down close to Cleve’s ear and asked in Kreppen, “How we know when to attack?” The breath of the massive creature was as hot as a blast from an oven. The word he favored most, kirjek, was spoken with a languid role of his tongue, as if it gave him great pleasure to utter. Rickik and his Krepps were the only ones excited to be in this cramped arena, with battle ready to ignite at any moment.
“Don’t attack,” Cleve answered in Kreppen. He had learned much of the language, but he could convey only simple ideas when speaking. “Attack only if I attack.”
“You give me orders?” Rickik asked, already perturbed. “You are not leader of Krepps.”
Cleve held back a grumble as he tried to think of the right words. He’d been practicing Kreppen every day, though he could barely stand the company of any of Rickik’s Krepps except for his son, Nebre. There were no two Krepps more different than the two of them. Nebre had been accepted by the Krepps into their group, but that didn’t mean they gave him the same honor as they did each other. All Krepps, male and female, were better with sword than Nebre and therefore more respected. But among the humans, Nebre was the most revered of the savage creatures.
“I request you call son to you,” Cleve said. “We need his help.”
As Rickik called out to Nebre, Reela leaned close to Abith and squinted. Cleve had come to recognize this expression as her putting her full concentration into reading energy—detecting for lies. Everyone fell silent to listen to her first question.
“What do you plan to do with Terren after the war is won?”
Nebre joined Cleve and Rickik and asked in common tongue, “What’s wrong?”
“Wait,” Cleve said as he strained to listen to Abith’s reply.
“That depends on what Terren plans to do with me.” A hint of sarcasm came through, perhaps showing that Abith was unafraid in this tense situation. Or it might be to hide his fear.
Reela squinted as she tilted her head from one side to another, staring into Abith’s eyes. She glanced over at Terren. “Would you like me to push on this question?”
He rolled his hand through the air “We can return to it if need be. Go to the next.”
Reela’s Elven half-brother, Vithos, had been positioned beside her, questioning more of these troops from Tenred. But now he came over to join her. Cleve hoped this didn’t mean the Elf had sensed aggression.
“You’ve proven through Basen that you have the capacity to train a new class, but do you have the loyalty?” Reela asked.
Terren had clearly prepared these questions specifically for Abith, presumably with the help of the headmaster’s loyal staff, but Abith training a new class came as a shock to Cleve. Whispers fluttered around the audience as he wondered why neither his uncle nor Basen had told him what Abith had been doing. Why keep it a secret unless there was something to hide?
Abith continued to smirk, even as he answered. “It’s not a question of loyalty, like you suggest.” He glanced at Terren before returning his gaze to Reela. “It’s a question of whether I’ll be satisfied with taking a lower position than I deserve.”
