Bastial Sentinels (The Rhythm of Rivalry: Book 5) (39 page)

But the feeling was gone now. He might as well have been walking into an enemy’s palace, shackled at the wrists with his wand taken from him. It would do him no good anyway against so many psychics. In here, he was nothing but another playing piece in their cruel game. He sighed. It was time to let go of his pride.

“Jek, are you angry with us?” Baylee asked.

“No.”

“You have no certainty,” she said with a shake of her head. “Your answer lacks strength.”

“Because I’m not sure who I’m angry at. I feel like I don’t have the will to be angry at everyone who deserves it.”

Vithos touched his shoulder, and calm flushed his enraged body. It felt as if anger had been stuck to his skin like dirt and Vithos had put him beneath a waterfall, the water blasting it off him. But deep within him, the rage still burned red hot. He stepped away from the Elf’s touch, petulantly shrugging off Vithos’ hand.

“Don’t do that,” Jek snapped. “Let me control my own emotions.”

“I thought you want help,” Vithos said. “Sorry.”

Farther into the palace, Jek started recognizing servers. When they caught his glance, they waited, but he didn’t know what to say. Waving would be absurd; even a smile felt out of place. All he could think to do was give a stern nod, as if to acknowledge he was here to work with Fatholl but wasn’t proud of it. He wasn’t sure how much of this came out in his nods. From the sense of purpose in their eyes, though, they seemed to understand at least some of it. They must’ve made difficult choices. Surely not all of their relatives and friends agreed with them working within the palace. Many had fled the city. It had been half deserted when Jek rode through earlier that day.

“Jek? Is that you?”

He turned to find Gerace. The server looked younger. Her hair was clean and untangled. The dark circles beneath her eyes were gone. He felt ill with guilt that it took until now for him to realize she was too young to be working so hard for the Takarys. This was how a young girl should look, not weary and worried.

Jek stopped. He wished to speak with her, but first he shared a glance with Baylee.

“You can talk with her. I’ll speak with Fatholl first, then you’ll speak with him later.” She gestured for a guard to come with her and said something to him in Elvish.

The armored man regarded Jek. “I’ll take you to Fatholl when you’re ready.”

Gerace cautiously approached Jek. “Are you…here by your own will?”

He smiled. It was just like her to think of the most polite way to ask if he’d been captured or had joined them as allies. “I am. Do you have a moment to talk?”

Her eyes shifted to the Elven guard.

“Of course,” he said.

There was a gap between her two front teeth as she grinned. Jek wasn’t sure of the last time he’d seen her smile so wide. “I’ve been worried about you,” she said. “They told me you and the Takarys left the palace. I figured I wouldn’t see you or them within this palace again until this was all over, and I still fear I might not be forgiven for staying—but I was scared, and everyone stayed, not just me. We didn’t want to lose our jobs and—”

“I know,” Jek said. “It’s alright, Gerace. The Takarys aren’t upset with you, and neither am I.”

Her chest heaved with a great sigh. “Now if only my father would stop worrying about me. Did you know that Fatholl interrupted the championship shotmarl match before coming here? My father was on the field. He was attacked with psyche like the other players.”

“I didn’t know. Were any of them…?”

“Killed?” She said the word like it meant nothing. Had all of this hardened her? “No. Fatholl and his Elves left after his announcement. Then people started leaving the stadium. It’s the first match ever to be canceled, did you know that?”

“I didn’t.” Gerace always knew more about shotmarl than he did.

“My father arrived at the palace soon after the Elves took it over. He almost got himself killed trying to get inside to get me, but the Elves stopped him and explained I wouldn’t be hurt. Since then, he’s been allowed to visit, yet all we’ve done is argue. He wanted me to leave The Nest with him and my mother, but I…I…” She looked at the Elven guard a few steps away who was pretending not to listen. “Pardon me, but may Jek and I speak in private?”

“I’ll be at the end of this hall,” the guard replied, giving them space.

“They’ve been extremely nice.” Gerace’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Not that Jessend and Lisanda are mean! I just meant—”

“I know what you meant.” Jek thought of giving her a hug, and he wasn’t one to fight against his instincts. He knew it would surprise Gerace, but he did it anyway, pulling her to his chest for the first embrace he’d ever given her. “You’ve been working too hard. I should’ve realized it earlier. The Takarys really appreciate your assistance, as do I.”

She didn’t return his hug. But when he parted, she was smiling wide with stained red cheeks. “Oh!” she said as if she just remembered something. “Did you know Cleve’s back? Do you remember Cleve Polken? He was the one who—”

“Yes, that’s part of why I’m here. He helped convince me that we didn’t have any choice but to join Fatholl. The desmarls are coming. We must fight against them.”

She nodded encouragingly. “Yes, yes, I’m glad to hear you say that. So Raymess will join them?”

“He’s being stubborn.”
Called me a traitor.
“I’m going to try to convince Lisanda and the rest of her family to speak with him.” Jek could hear from the grim tone of his voice that he hadn’t hidden his feelings well.

The worried expression he was used to returned to Gerace’s face. “What if it doesn’t work? Fatholl says they’ll let the desmarls come into the territories unopposed unless everyone agrees to fight.”

He wished he could give her an honest answer that would bring back her smile. But there wasn’t one. So he lied. “I’m certain Raymess will agree to fight. But since we don’t have a lot of time, I’d better—”

“Yes, please,” she frantically interrupted. “I’m sorry. Please go.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I’m glad we had the chance to speak.”

She lowered her head. But as he left, she called after him. “Jek? Do you know if Cleve’s coming back to the palace?” She was blushing.

Jek held in a smile. “I’m not sure. But if I see him again, I’ll let him know you’d really like him to visit.”

“Don’t tell him that!” she shrieked. “I was just curious. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to yell.”

Jek couldn’t help but laugh. He promised he wouldn’t say anything to Cleve and approached the Elven guard. “Will you take me to Fatholl?”

“Follow me.”

As he walked beside the Elf, he began to wonder. “Is Fatholl your king?”

“He’s not a king.”

“Then what is he to you?”

“To all of us,” the Elf corrected, “he’s an organizer of common goals. A leader.”

It wasn’t until they’d arrived at Fatholl’s door that Jek realized the guard had just given the definition of a good leader. He wondered how many kings were organizers of common goals.
The description doesn’t fit any that I know.

Baylee and Vithos were coming out just as Jek was coming in. Vithos wished him luck. Baylee kissed her hand and pressed it to Jek’s forehead. Some Elvish thing, he figured. Whatever had happened with Fatholl, they were both in high spirits.

“The Sartious mage,” Fatholl announced. The Elf seemed happy. “I’m glad you’re here. Sit and have some fruit.”

Jek decided it wasn’t a bad idea. He gave his sore back a rest and grabbed a handful of strawberries.
I missed the palace,
he thought, sinking into the cushiony chair and biting into a lush berry.

Up close, he could see Fatholl was quite young. Even Vithos, who Jek knew to be twenty-seven, looked older. But like Micah, Fatholl had a way of hiding his age. Cunning gray eyes and a charismatic confidence in his tone masked his youth.

“Baylee told me what happened at Lake Mercy,” Fatholl said. “And I agree with the plan Klaiya proposed. You should speak with the Takary women. They’re the only hope of convincing Raymess to join us without combat. But don’t spend most of your efforts bringing Lisanda to our side. Vala is the one who holds the most power. What do you plan to say to her?”

Too much, too fast.
Jek held up his hands. “First, don’t say, ‘our side.’ I’m not on your side. I don’t agree with your methods. Second, I haven’t decided what I’m going to say to the Queen. It’s easier if I just wait until I get there.” Jek refrained from telling Fatholl that he was incapable of preparing speeches in advance. He had to see Vala’s face before he could come up with anything. And even if Fatholl prepared lines for him, he’d forget them by the time he got to…
are they even still there?
“Are they still in Facian?”

“They’re still there.”

“How do you know?”

“We watch each town. It would be easy to know if they left. Jessend and Lisanda have become quite popular among the townspeople there.” Fatholl squinted at Jek. “I worry about your allegiance if you’re so uncomfortable with the simple phrase of us being on the same side.”

“I’ll be loyal so long as you plan to kill the desmarls and no more people.”

“That’s the plan unless Raymess or the leaders of the other armies refuse to join us. Only then would death—hopefully just the threat of death—be used.”

“Do you truly mean to let the desmarls tear through our territories if just one army doesn’t join this cause?”

“Yes. And I noticed you said ‘our territories.’ Who are you including when you say ‘our’?”

“Not you.” It came out harsher than Jek meant.

Fatholl frowned. “It appears that, while we’re allies, you still think of me as an enemy.”

Jek couldn’t object when it was the truth, not that he knew it was even possible for someone to be both an ally and an enemy. He grew even more confused when he realized Raymess was exactly that.

His teeth ground together. Anger burst out. “It’s your fault things have become so confusing! No matter what you say, I’ll never forgive you for killing Danvell and so many guards. I’m only here because I don’t see a better choice.”

Fatholl waited patiently with his arms folded.

“What?” Jek asked.

“Do you have any other excuses about why you’re here before we continue?”

He felt childish. “Not at the moment.”

“Jek, I don’t care what your reasons are or if you’ll forgive me. I didn’t do this to make friends.”

“You’re going to need friends when this is over if you expect to live.”

“I’m going to Ovira when this is over. There’s work to be done there. Perhaps I might return one day to make sure my efforts to exterminate the desmarls haven’t been wasted, but I won’t worry about my safety if I do. Eventually, even the most emotional young men, such as Raymess, will see that I’ve saved their grandchildren, even if I killed his father in the process. Now can we discuss how you’ll convince Vala to stand with her husband’s murderer instead of her son? That won’t be easy to accomplish.”

Jek was about to complain that Fatholl was exaggerating, making it seem more difficult than it would be to bring Vala to their cause. But as he opened his mouth, no words came. The Elf was right. Perhaps some planning could prove useful.

Only later did Jek find out that Fatholl already had begun plotting. Jek soon found himself in trouble when Fatholl proposed tactics that Jek thought to be too extreme. He wasn’t used to being the advocate of subtlety, and he failed miserably at defending it, soon joining the side of extremity.

Momentum took over, their plan tumbling out of control like a boulder crashing down a mountain. Eventually, they were discussing poisoning Jessend as a way to ensure both Vala and Raymess would join Fatholl’s army against the desmarls.

“It would need to be a poison that takes at least a day to start working,” Jek said. “And it can’t do any permanent harm.”

“As long as it’s cured with our antidote, it won’t,” Fatholl said.

“And we’re not going to tell them she’s been poisoned. That way, we can secretly give her the antidote if I manage to convince Vala without the threat of her daughter dying. They would never know she was poisoned in the first place…wait. This is becoming too much.”
How could I even consider such a thing?
“Are you using psyche on me?”

“No.”

“Don’t try to convince me to poison Jessend. I’ve decided it’s a terrible idea.”

“Fine. Everything else we’ve discussed should be enough to convince them. They’re regal women—while they may wish for revenge, protecting their family will always come first. Unlike Raymess, severing my head isn’t their utmost priority.”

“You don’t know Jessend as well as you think you do.” Jek recalled the way she’d killed her father’s murderer with absolute satisfaction.

“I suppose I don’t. But I still trust they’ll side with you.”

“Without poisoning Jessend,” Jek insisted.

“Yes, without poisoning Jessend.”

“What happens after they agree? How will they speak with Raymess?”

“They must ride to him, wherever he may be. We don’t have time to wait.” Fatholl’s mouth twisted at the corner. “You’re worried.”