Scorned Prince: Ringdweller Series #1, page 3
Nedro pointed at a display shelf on the opposite side of the room from the window. That was even more peculiar. “They crossed the entire room without taking any other items,” he mused to himself as he approached the shelf. The glass cover had seemingly vanished, much like the windows. Inside the shelf, an assortment of items was displayed across a velvety cloth. A scattering of sand made the cloth sparkle under the light.
Migo bent closer. Some of the items on the shelf were gilded with gold and silver. Most of them looked quite valuable. He rubbed his fingers across the cloth, feeling at the strange, sparkling sand, but it poked his skin with sharp pricks. His hand shot back as blood beaded on his fingertips, a gasp escaping his lips.
“What is it?” Hatan asked, stepping up beside Migo.
“This isn’t sand,” Migo said, pointing at the glimmering cloth. “It’s glass. From the shelf’s cover. I think the same thing happened to all the broken windows.”
“Interesting. I never knew the storms could do that.” Nedro mused.
“Because it wasn’t the storm. This glass was broken by magic. They were targeting something, and I intend to find out why.” Migo straightened himself. He’d never seen this type of activity from them. “There’s not much we can do for now, Nedro.” He thumbed the shaft of his weapon. “But I’ll make a record of your report. If we can locate the item that was stolen, we’ll let you know. We have another issue to look into.”
Nedro stopped fidgeting. “Ah, another attack?”
“Perhaps,” Migo said, walking to the door. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
Chapter four
Burned Bodies
Katsi shivered at the edge of Jehubal’s swampy farmland. Insects buzzed around her, and the scaila in her hand watched them with eager eyes. She’d already snatched a couple of the bugs with her hand to feed them to him. Or her? She wasn’t really sure how to tell a lizard’s gender, and she wasn’t too eager to go looking.
The Frozen Waste was only about a mile to her left. She’d headed this way after the Maedari, knowing Damani would be coming to check on his ice floras. The tender plants needed colder weather to sustain them properly, so it wasn’t uncommon for some of them to take heat damage during Maedaris.
With her free hand, Katsi touched the newly acquired artifact that was tucked into her pocket. She felt the same tingling sensation she’d gotten the first time, though this time it was milder, like a gentle reminder.
“I’m magic, Scales. Can you believe it?” Katsi said, holding the lizard up closer to her face.
Scales blinked its yellow eyes at her.
“No, I can’t show you. I don’t know how it works… or what it is,” she said. “But my father could make enchanted potions, so maybe I could do something like that.”
Scales settled into Katsi’s palm with a tiny guttural sound.
“Potions are great. Then I could make something to help your legs get better.” Katsi eyed her little friend’s left hind leg, which looked particularly mangled, and her hopes for a good recovery faltered.
Motion toward the middle of the marshlands caught Katsi’s attention. She looked up to see the farmers approaching, most of them wrapped in tan clothes with veils over their faces. She recognized Damani by the dark blue coif over his head.
Katsi stepped down from the jungle floor. “Let’s keep you in here for now,” she said, tucking Scales back into the pocket of her overcoat.
Damani saw her approaching and waved her over. She dodged a couple pools of standing water before the two of them stood together.
“See, still alive,” Katsi said, gesturing at herself.
Damani rolled his gray eyes, which were just about the only thing visible. That and a small tuft of his light brown hair. “It’s not that. I know you can take care of yourself,” he said, glancing over at the other farmers who’d continued on to their crops. “I just want us to be able to have a normal life together someday, you know what I mean?”
What? Katsi felt something flutter in her stomach. “I’m seventeen, Damani. I don’t think that far ahead,” she lied. She wasn’t about to admit that she’d thought about marrying him over a year ago. “I’m just here to take some of your food.” She swung a playful punch at his shoulder.
He gave a short laugh, eyes sparkling. “Is that all I’m good for?”
“You do have your uses,” Katsi said, smile hidden beneath her veil. Their families had shared farmland when growing up, but after Katsi’s parents were murdered when she was eight, she’d gone into hiding with the rest of the tribe. The tribe tried to raise her as a soldier though. All they cared about was fighting. She had to leave, and Damani was the only one she could think of coming to. He was perhaps the only ringdweller who might suspect her of being shamanfolk.
Damani breathed a laugh. “Well, why don’t you help me prod some of these open.” He handed her a hooked rod and the two of them headed over to a large patch of ice floras. The plants were round with several layers of white leaves folding over themselves. Without looking closely, they might seem like little rocks.
Katsi inserted the rod into a tiny hole at the top of an ice flora where the leaves did not extend. Then she pried back some of the leaves until the purplish core was exposed. Damani moved in behind her, doing the more delicate work of extracting the hearts.
Despite the cold, Katsi’s brow began to sweat. Farming was painstaking work, and her stomach growled angrily. She hadn’t eaten since the storm had started.
“That should do,” Damani said. He’d pulled the coif down, revealing the lower half of his face. He flashed her a perfect smile and held out a small sack.
“Thank you.” She took the sack from his hand, feeling its generous weight. Her eyes widened. “Damani, this is a lot. Are you sure?”
He held up his hand. “Please, we harvested a lot. The crop was pretty good, and I could hear the storm rumbling in your stomach.” His eyes softened.
“Actually,” he said, “I wanted to tell you something.” Damani took a step closer. Katsi couldn’t tell if she was just imagining the heat emanating from his body. “I saw something interesting just a few marks ago. Before the Maedari. I hadn’t had a chance to tell you before you left.”
He glanced around, and Katsi narrowed her eyes.
“You know how I like to lay on the moss at the edge of the jungle sometimes?”
Katsi’s smile was hidden behind her veil. That was where they’d first held hands. She gave a small nod.
“Well, I’ve seen people out there a couple times now, and I saw them again. They’re armed. They wear some of that same, uh,” he glanced down at her body, “armor that you do, only they don’t hide it under a robe.”
Shamanfolk. Likely scoping out the farmlands. The Bayvana Tribe was known for running the occasional raid, usually targeting soldiers. Sometimes they even assaulted caravans, stole the food, and slew the guards. They’d been rather silent for a few months now. “What could that mean?” she asked, knowing Damani was clever enough to guess who they were.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s not safe. Do you think they have some of that magic?” He’d said the word with such disgust that it made Katsi’s cheeks burn.
“I doubt they’re here for me,” she said. “Not all shamanfolk are actual shamans either. Magical abilities are uncommon. Do you think they saw you?”
“No.”
“Keep it that way. Maybe you could lay out in the north jungle from now on. It’s not protected over here.” Katsi always felt unsettled that the southern farmlands were hardly monitored. A regiment of twenty soldiers at the road wouldn’t do anything to protect farmers like Damani who lived by the jungle.
“I know.” His expression dropped. “I’ll stick to the north.”
Footsteps pounded toward them from the road. Two boys sprinted towards the farmers, no doubt bearing news.
“There was an attack during the Maedari,” said the young man in front with a huff, coming to a halt just in front of Damani as the other farmers gathered around. He brushed his long black hair back from his forehead and blinked at them with widened eyes. The other young man behind him slipped on slick rock and splashed into one of the puddles.
Katsi tried not to laugh as the other farmers muttered concern over the attack. The boys were about to report something that she had done herself.
“What was it this time?” someone asked.
The boys exchanged worried looks with each other then the one in front said, “Murder.”
Gasps and curses filled the air. Katsi narrowed her eyes.
“There hadn’t been any murders for a few storms now. I hoped they’d stopped,” somebody said.
Damani pursed his lips and gave Katsi a questioning look, almost as if he was asking her if she knew about it.
She frowned and shook her head, resisting the urge to slap Damani for even thinking it. Why would she know anything about a murder?
He turned his head away.
Katsi ground her teeth. She stole something during the Maedari. She hadn’t killed anyone. “Where?” Katsi asked. She was instantly intrigued and furious. She hated these murders. It was just too bad it was never anybody like Queen Rikaydian that got murdered in the storms. She could only wish.
“Just one street in from the entrance of the city.”
Katsi nodded and threw the bag over one shoulder. Her stomach was still aching, but she needed to check this out first. The farmers argued amongst themselves as Katsi walked away. She was so mad at Damani that she didn’t even look back as she hurried sunward toward the center of the Ring where the sunlight was a little stronger. It didn’t take long before she reached the jungle that stood between the farmlands and Jehubal. Now the Maedari had passed, the thick trees had unfurled their giant leaves, soaking in all the sun they could. Thin clouds were hanging overhead in hues of orange and purple.
“Still choosing to spend your time with the ringdwellers, eh, Danan?”
Katsi skidded to a halt, hand going to her knife. Nobody knew her family name. Not unless… He was a middle-aged man with dark eyes and long black hair that was tinged with a brown-orange shade. The unusual shading was typically a sign of somebody who’d lived too long near the Scorched Waste. In this man’s case, he actually lived inside the Scorched Waste. “It’s still a way to get food,” Katsi said coolly. “At least I don’t have to kill anybody around here.” She added a little heat to her words.
The man’s eyes narrowed. He was tall, with a strong body. His name was Manahae. A shaman. He smiled. “Until they figure out who you are anyway. It’s only a matter of time, of course. Then it’s kill or be killed, and your peace-preaching will mean nothing. You know as well as any how that works.” His voice was soft and clear, each word spoken with confidence.
“What are you doing here, anyway?”
Manahae’s expression darkened. “Leaving.” He took a step closer. “If I were you, Danan, I wouldn’t be staying in Jehubal for much longer.” Without giving her any time to respond, he disappeared at a run, heading south.
It was true. The shamanfolk were planning something. Manahae coming this close to Jehubal? The city itself was possibly at risk. She sped up to a light jog. A small wisp of smoke came into view before the city did. Her pace increased subconsciously as she ran to the city. Whatever had happened, she needed to see it.
Her mind raced. She’d seen death before—far more than she’d ever wanted—but she intended to learn what she could to make it stop.
As she neared the smoke, she realized she wasn’t the only one rushing to the scene. Several other people were running to see what had happened, many of them young like Katsi. She sometimes found it difficult to remember that she was only seventeen years old. Living on her own certainly didn’t make her feel that young.
When she arrived at the scene, several people stood in a circle. A two-story home burned in flames. Some people assisted a couple guards that were attempting to put it out. And there, lying in the street, with nothing more than a cloth to cover them, were two dead bodies.
One of the guards turned and yelled at them, “Stay back everybody! Unless you want to help us with this fire.”
Katsi stayed hidden behind a couple other onlookers, peeking out from between them. The bodies were mostly covered by the cloths, but an arm was exposed, revealing fire-blackened skin.
“What happened?” Katsi asked aloud.
“Demons.”
“Shamans.”
“Came in during the storm while the family was sleeping.”
“Burned ‘em with that dark magic.”
“Poor Daniya. She and her husband were some of the nicest people.”
“That’s probably why the shamans went after them. They don’t like any of the decent people.”
“Where did they come from?”
“Blew in with the Maedari. That’s how they always do it.”
Katsi had gotten the conversation started, though much of it was likely just speculation. This whole thing was extremely unnerving. Tensions were already incredibly high. Shamanfolk were slaughtered mercilessly whenever they were found. Katsi knew the shamanfolk had plans to fight back. More murders could even persuade the ringdweller armies to venture out in the wastes. If only she could get a closer look at the bodies to see what had really happened. She edged her way to the front of the scene.
“Everyone clear out!” A deep voice boomed over the crowd.
Katsi hesitantly took a couple steps back with the rest of the people, frowning as she looked up at the newcomers. To her surprise, two soldiers came riding up on the backs of rangolas. She scowled with instant recognition. She barely stifled a grunt of loathing as she fell in beside the other citizens.
The two men dismounted smoothly, both of them bearing the glaives of the army. One of the men was young, and he might have been handsome if not for the seemingly permanent scowl etched into his face. Black, wavy hair hung down to his shoulders. Prince Migo Rikaydian. His captain’s uniform fit tightly over his muscular body. He didn’t immediately approach the bodies, but instead cast his brown eyes across the crowd, squinting at them as he stood in battle stance, as if suspecting that one of them might have been responsible.
Katsi cringed as his eyes lingered on her for a split-second. Her hands tightened into fists.
“Captain Rikaydian,” said one of the guards, rushing over and bowing to the filthy prince. The building was rubble by the time they got the fire under control.
“Keep these people back,” Migo said to the guard in a stern voice. “This area needs to be secured for examination.”
The guard turned on the crowd immediately. “You heard the captain, stand back. Disperse from here. The army will take care of it.”
Katsi half-heartedly took another step back as Migo and the other soldier approached the bodies.
Migo crouched and uncovered the faces of the victims. “What do you think it was, Hatan?” He asked his companion in an undertone. Katsi was barely close enough to hear. Barely close enough to see.
Hatan folded his arms and shook his head. “Shaman magic. Similar to those murders a few years ago, actually. Before you were on the force.”
Katsi sidled to the edge of the buildings and inched a little closer. She had to see those faces. The guard didn’t notice as she slipped over towards the smoldering building.
“But why these people?” Migo’s frown somehow managed to deepen.
“Perhaps the shamans failed at killing Nedro Wajek, so they went for some other people instead.”
Katsi was just close enough to see their faces. They were terribly blackened in some places, but something about them seemed oddly familiar. Her mind raced, her heart thumping wildly as a thought occurred to her. For some reason, they reminded her of her younger years, before her parents were taken.
Migo tapped his chin in thought, then looked up at Katsi sharply. “What’re you doing? Get out of here!”
“Sorry,” Katsi said like a good citizen, though she loathed having a Rikaydian’s eyes on her. She bowed her head and took a step back.
Hatan brandished his weapon. “Move along now, miss,” Hatan said with a firm voice, though his eyes remained soft.
Katsi nodded and retreated into the crowd.
“Hold on, who is she?” Migo asked.
A sudden panic gripped her chest. She wouldn’t let him catch her. Without a glance back, she hurried passed the other people and ran out of the city.
Chapter five
Mother's Wrath
Migo paced in front of his desk, hands clasped behind his back as he brooded. Shamans were attacking them. The queen wanted to kill him. It made his heart thump with rage. He’d also let the girl get away. His reaction had been too slow. Her image had burned into his mind, though her veil had been pulled down only enough to show her eyes and forehead. Light brown skin, thin, black eyebrows, and penetratingly beautiful eyes. He could almost remember a light hint of green in those otherwise dark eyes of hers. He shook his head, trying to clear the image away.
Hatan shifted in the corner, a sigh escaping his lips. “We should be discussing the queen’s plan… but I know you’re thinking about the girl. We can find her,” he said.
Migo scowled. “Unlikely. Her face was half covered, and we don’t know anything about her. She could have been our only lead. I should have detained her the moment I noticed she was trying to get closer.”
“There wasn’t much time to act. She obviously knew how to slip away.”
“All the more reason to catch her.” Migo ran after her once she’d slipped behind the crowd, but she’d all but vanished. It only frustrated him more.
“I’m committed to helping you if you think this will work, but it’s been a long cycle. The hourglass was already on the fifth mark before we came in to take the reports. I think it’s a good time to rest.”
