The Edge of Shadow, page 2
part #5 of The Kin of Kings Series
Reela frowned. “But there’s no one better to instruct battle mages. There’s great honor in that.”
“Honor?” Rickik whispered to Cleve. “They say what?”
Cleve didn’t have the ability to describe the complexity of the situation in Kreppen, but he tried his best. “Terren asks Abith to train men with sword and wand. Much honor. But Abith wants to be leader of the Academy.”
Nebre elaborated for his father as Cleve waited for Abith to speak. Abith was not a large man, but his skill with sword and manipulating energy made him imposing. The line of men behind him was in disarray as many had come forward to listen.
“More honor as leader,” Rickik told Cleve in common tongue. “Do Abith and Terren fight for leader?”
They might. “No, because a human leader needs to be good at more than winning a duel.”
Abith was taking his time to reply as he glanced back at his men. How allegiant were any of them to him? It was Crea who’d paid them to join this war, and it was she, not Abith, who would continue to pay them for their loyalty when it was over.
“You.” Terren pointed at an older man behind Abith. “Come forward and answer questions about Abith if he refuses to answer them himself.”
The man glanced at Abith before moving, as if asking permission. Abith shook his head and pushed out his palm. He shot an annoyed look at Terren.
“You would’ve stood no chance of killing Tauwin if it wasn’t for me,” Abith said. “And hundreds more would’ve died during the battle if these men weren’t supporting your troops. I heard about the chaos under your leadership, and not just from my men.”
Abith’s implication almost made Cleve reach for his weapon. He stepped forward and fired back in his uncle’s defense. “No one in Ovira knows the speed and power of horses. Terren did everything right, as he always does.”
“No, Cleve,” Terren surprised him by announcing. “I am to blame, and I do hold myself responsible for their ambush succeeding.” Cleve eased back into the group of Krepps as shame colored his cheeks. But Terren wasn’t done. “I live with the deaths of our soldiers and officers on my conscience, and I would gladly pass the burden of leadership to anyone more suitable for the task. But Abith, you are not the man to lead the Academy. You would do no better than I have. You said yourself that it’s out of boredom that you’ve taken such drastic measures to be standing before me now in hopes of stealing my position. You can’t honestly believe everyone here at the Academy would be better off with you leading them. Do you? Let’s hear the truth.”
Jackrie stepped close to Terren and whispered something in his ear.
“It’s all right,” he muttered to her.
She shook her head and stepped back.
Abith had his arms folded. “The truth, Terren, is better left unspoken.”
This was it, then. Battle. Cleve gripped the handle of his bastial steel sword. The brawl would be messy, as only a few people had brought swords, but most were on the Academy’s side. It should be an easy victory.
Terren looked into Abith’s eyes…and made no demand for him to answer. Cleve didn’t understand. Force him to speak the truth. We all know he means to kill you.
But Terren found some sort of understanding in Abith’s eyes, nodding to the smaller man.
Rickik whispered, “I’m confused.”
“So am I,” Cleve admitted.
“We attack?”
“No.” This was one of the many problems with Krepps. Confusion led to fighting more often than not. There were many Kreppen words for settling problems with combat, while no such words existed in common tongue.
Rickik spoke a few of them in his language to Cleve, one to settle dishonor with fighting, another to prove strength with fighting, and the last to end a hostile situation with a duel. Cleve told the Krepp “no” more forcefully each time until Rickik was seething.
“We’re done with him for now,” Terren told Reela.
Everyone voiced shock and disagreement, though Reela was the loudest. “He’s worried, headmaster! Are you sure there are no other questions you’d like to ask him?”
“I have no more questions for Abith.”
“Terren,” Cleve tried to plead, but his voice was lost among hundreds of others.
Terren raised his arms. “There is one thing I need to know, actually.”
Everyone quickly settled, the silence swelling with tension.
“Where is Crea?” Terren asked.
“I don’t know.” Abith sounded glad for that fact.
“Then what do you know about her?”
“All that I know is she didn’t go back to Tenred.”
Terren waited for more information.
Abith shrugged. “That’s it. I have no idea what she’s doing.”
Terren pointed at the older man behind Abith again. Cleve didn’t know anything about this particular swordsman. He just seemed to be next in line. “And you. What do you know about Crea?”
“She continues to pay us to serve her.”
“What does she expect you to do?”
“Fight.” He shrugged and said the word as if it were a simple thing, like he’d been told to clean a room.
“Has she given you any instruction to go against me or anyone at the Academy?” Terren asked.
“No.”
“Have you seen her since she left?”
Why had Terren let Abith off so easily to focus on Crea instead? There was something the headmaster wasn’t telling them. Normally, Cleve wouldn’t worry, but he’d seen a different side of Terren on the way to battle. The news of Jackrie’s terminal illness had changed his view on life. It had weakened him.
“I haven’t seen her,” the man answered.
Terren didn’t seem to believe him as he glanced at Reela, but Reela nodded at the headmaster and said, “True.”
“You must know of someone who’s seen her,” Terren accused the man.
“I do.”
Terren sighed in clear frustration. “Who?”
He pointed at another man, who came forward. Terren muttered something to himself as he shook his head. He finally seemed to notice everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch. He lifted his arms. “Finish answering your own loyalty questions. We could be here a while.”
As psychics begrudgingly resumed questioning their classmates—an unfortunate necessity with the history of betrayal at the Academy—Cleve moved closer to his uncle to escape the growing din of voices. Rickik stayed with him, his Krepps not far behind.
“When did you last see Crea?” Terren asked the man. He was younger than the last, with a sinister face that made it seem as if he would rip a coin out of a child’s hand just to watch him cry. Cleve had seen him on Warrior’s Field, training men of Tenred. Clearly, he had trained long before these days. He could have very well fought against Cleve in the war between Kyrro and Tenred. He could have even killed some of my allies.
“I saw her two days ago,” he answered.
Terren swept the hair off his forehead, gave a quick glance toward the exit, then showed a look of annoyance at the man Cleve was beginning to assume was their enemy.
“Where?” Terren demanded. “It would be appreciated if you elaborated in your answers.”
“Near the mountains.”
Terren looked as if he wanted to grab him by the neck. “Which mountains?”
“West of the Fjallejon Pathway.”
“How did you know to meet her there?”
The man’s mouth twisted as if he tasted something sour. He glanced at Reela, then back at Terren.
“Don’t embarrass yourself by trying to lie,” Terren warned. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about Crea, so stop stalling.”
The man looked as if he wanted to make the headmaster regret his words. “I knew where to meet her…because…she…” Each word was spoken slowly, as if Terren was too stupid to follow otherwise. “Told…me…where…to…meet…her...last time we spoke.”
His disrespect for Terren was so palpable that even Rickik seemed to know what was going on, taking an aggressive step toward the man. Cleve quickly followed, unsure if he had the will to stop Rickik. The man noticed the enormous creature but showed no fear.
“Did you discuss anything that would lead to the injury or death of anyone here at the Academy, including myself?” Terren asked.
“No.”
Crea probably knew this man could be questioned by psychics.
“What did you discuss?”
“Nothing.”
Terren looked confused, glancing over at Reela. She turned to him and said, “It’s the truth, as strange as it seems.”
With a triumphant smile, the man took his spot back in line. Terren opened his mouth as if he might object but said nothing. His attention returned to Abith.
“Give them all the normal questions so we can be done with this,” the headmaster told Reela. Then he stepped back and crossed his arms as he watched.
Reela proceeded to ask Abith, and then everyone else from Tenred, the same questions posed to every student and instructor. Where are you from? What is your name? Why did you come to the Academy? Do you harbor any grudges toward Kyrro or anyone at the Academy? And finally, do you have any intention of betraying or doing harm to anyone at the Academy?
Abith was intentionally vague during some questions, answering that he came to the Academy because it was in his best interest at the time, and that he had the best interest of the Academy at heart.
“But do you have the intention of betraying or doing harm—?” Reela began, only to be interrupted by Terren.
“Move on to the next person.”
Abith nodded as if thanking Terren, then stepped out of line. Disappointed, Reela asked the same questions to every man after that. They each answered clearly and without hesitation, but many seemed nervous or upset by the process. The third man to be questioned, the one who’d met with Crea, held an expression as if he were above all of this.
When all were finished, Cleve joined Vithos and Reela as she spoke with Terren.
“None were lying,” Reela said, “but many were worried and did seem to be keeping something secret.”
Vithos nodded. “Many secrets, especially with one.” Cleve didn’t need to look to know the Elf was pointing at the one who’d spoken with Crea.
“Thank you, Reela and Vithos, but that’s all I need for now.”
“I think they’re dangerous, headmaster,” Reela said as Terren turned away.
“I know they are.”
“And Abith is definitely hiding something,” she added.
“I know what it is. I’ll explain later.” Terren raised his arms and yelled, “Return to the benches.”
Cleve didn’t move, noticing Reela and Vithos standing there as well against Terren’s order. The two of them looked at Terren the same way Cleve did. They needed to say something, but what?
“Trust me,” Terren told the three of them.
He gestured for them to leave.
Rickik came to join Cleve as they walked toward the benches. “No battle?”
“No, but there might be one later.”
“Good.”
After a long while, everyone was seated in the now quiet stadium. Effie had come earlier with nearly her entire torso bandaged. Reela sat next to her, with Cleve on Reela’s other side. They spent a few moments trying to convince Effie to go back to the medical building now that the questioning was over, but she refused to miss this announcement.
Terren let out a long breath, then smiled in what appeared to be relief. “I’m glad that’s done. Now I can finally tell you the good news.”
He held the silence of the audience for what felt to be an eternity. Everyone knew the battle had only been to distract Tauwin so the trio of Basen, Abith, and Neeko could surprise and slay the young pretender to the throne. Now they were just waiting to hear the results.
At first Cleve thought Basen and Abith had gone with Neeko to get him to the capital. As two men who could fight with sword and fire, one able to make portals, it seemed they were a good choice. But after hearing how Basen had been training with Abith, Cleve was beginning to see there was a lot more to Terren’s choice than Cleve had first realized. Terren had never kept secrets from Cleve before, and he didn’t see why it had to start now.
People began to murmur excitedly as Terren’s smile grew to split his face. “I can see many of you already know what I’m about to say.”
Tauwin’s name drifted around Cleve. He pushed away his worry about Abith to let himself enjoy this moment.
“Tauwin is dead!” Terren shouted with a shake of both fists.
Applause erupted, scaring the Krepps behind Cleve until Nebre calmed them with a quick reminder of what clapping meant.
But everyone stopped suddenly as screams were heard at the entrance of the stadium. Not a single person was sitting when Sanya limped in.
Basen ran in after her. “She used psyche, Terren! I couldn’t stop her.”
The headmaster was already sprinting toward Sanya. “Abith! Abith, get here now!”
Sanya lifted her arms as if mimicking the gesture Terren made before each of his speeches. “The war is not over.” Her voice did not carry well, partially muffled by everyone’s sounds of shock. “Ulric is still alive and planned for Tauwin to be killed. It’s what he wanted! All of this is exactly what he wanted. Ulric now leads the entire army against you, and they could be here as soon as today. I came here to tell you everything I know and to face my punishment for my crimes!”
Effie took out her wand and made a face of concentration.
“Don’t,” Cleve said at the same time as Reela.
It was too late. She was the first to cast, her fireball zipping over the heads of her classmates close enough to singe their hairs. Some shrieked as they ducked, while others spun around and cursed at her. The fireball landed short of Sanya, sending out a wave of sand as she covered her face with her arm.
Abith was there by the time Effie cast her second fireball. He made a sartious shell around himself and Sanya, a thin shield of green energy that protected them from every angle. Effie wasn’t the only mage casting by then, as ten fireballs rained down on Sanya and Abith for every breath Cleve took. Abith’s protection only incited more mages to stand and cast, which caused the troops of Tenred to stand and draw arms.
“Everyone stop this instant or you will start a battle!” Terren yelled, his deep voice thunderous as it reverberated around the stadium.
All mages stopped. Dying flames sizzled across Abith’s energy shield.
Effie didn’t lower her wand.
“He can’t keep that up for long.”
Cleve glanced around the stadium to see a number of mages—Alex’s friends—with the same smug look on their faces as Effie.
CHAPTER THREE
Cleve and Reela moved closer to Effie’s sides, neither daring to reach for her wand yet.
“Eff, you’ve just gotten out of the medical building,” Reela reasoned. “You shouldn’t even be standing, so you certainly should not be casting. You must still have caregelow working through you and altering your mind. Don’t do anything you might regret.”
Effie gritted her teeth and lifted her shoulder as Reela’s hands came closer. “Don’t use psyche on me. You don’t get to protect her, Reela! You didn’t lose someone precious to you.”
If this had been the first conversation Cleve heard between the two young women, he would’ve guessed by Effie’s spiteful tone that they were enemies.
“But I did,” Cleve interjected. “I spent every day training with Alex. His death opened an old wound so deep, it was as if my parents had been killed all over again.”
Effie ground her teeth, looking like a dog about to bite. “So you should be charging down there and throwing Abith out of the way so we can kill her!”
Reela put her hand on Effie’s shoulder. “Please—”
“Don’t touch me!” In her hurry to get away from Reela, Effie fell into Cleve. He had just enough time to steady her before she pushed him off. “You don’t touch me either!”
“All right,” Reela said. “We won’t.”
“We won’t force you to do anything,” Cleve added. “This has to be your decision, something you can live with.”
“You said you wanted her dead,” Effie growled. “Why not anymore?”
“I still do, Effie. But not by mages’ fireballs in the middle of Redfield. Not before she tells us whatever she came here to say.”
Several mages continued to cast, ignoring Terren’s shouting. Their fireballs splashed against Abith’s green energy with flickers of light. Cleve caught glimpses of Sanya’s horrified expression in the short gaps between the spells.
“She came here by her own volition,” he argued. “It would be different if we’d caught her trying to run, but she’s here to face her punishment. There will be a trial, Effie. She’ll get what she deserves, and you won’t have the guilt of murdering her before she’s done everything she can to help us.”
Effie did not lower her wand, but at least she wasn’t casting.
Terren eased toward Abith, his voice rising to a level Cleve had never heard before. “Put your weapons away, now!”
The fireballs stopped, but Effie and many other mages still refused to lower their weapons. It wasn’t until Terren promised, “She won’t escape,” that Effie finally holstered her wand.
Unfortunately, there were mages even more stubborn who did not budge. Brawls broke out as other students tried to force them to put their weapons away. A few shouted in vain about Sanya killing Alex or Nick, but it wasn’t long before they were overwhelmed by the people around them and were forced to give in.
Abith let his sartious shield come to rest, the energy sprinkling down and coloring the sand with a green ring. Basen stood stunned at the entrance to the arena with ten wall guards behind him. From the other side of Sanya, Terren called, “Has she been checked for weapons?”
“Yes,” Basen replied.
“The war is not over!” Sanya repeated. “Ulric wants you to believe that it is.” She fell silent suddenly, spinning to look in every direction as if expecting more fireballs.
