Treason: Book Two of the Grimoire Saga (a Young Adult Fantasy series) (6 page)

The idea made his gut twist so much he couldn’t eat. Guilt and frustration burned in his stomach, and bile burned the backs of his teeth. He threw his untainted apple into the woods. Hopefully something else was hungry.

They traveled almost completely in silence, for which Braeden quickly became grateful. Soldiers lined the trees, beginning almost ten miles out from the Gala entrance. He saw glimpses here and there—dark brown boots that matched the bark, green tunics only a shade or two off from the trees. They hid their faces, but a few did nod silently to him as he and Kara rode beneath. He nodded back.

Kara watched the road ahead, apparently oblivious to the soldiers in the trees. Braeden resisted the urge to sigh. Hillsidians were stealthy, far more so than any other kingdom could even realize. They were trackers, hunters, and they could always hide. The fact made Braeden want to hold Kara closer, but that was definitely not something he could do now. Not with all these guards watching. 

Kara cleared her throat. “Braeden, I have to—”

He was about to interrupt, to ask her to save whatever she wanted to say for when they were actually alone, when Braeden’s old friend Demnug jumped from the forest’s thick underbrush on the back of a drowng.

“Master Braeden!” the captain said.

Braeden smiled. Demnug was only a few years older than him and had always been Braeden’s favorite sparring partner in the Hillsidian training rings. The captain had taken Kara to the Kirelms all those weeks ago, when she was called to visit the other Bloods.

Demnug trotted over to them, and Braeden bit back his laughter when Kara’s lips parted in gaping shock. She’d apparently thought they were alone.

“It’s good to see you both safe and well”—Demnug sniffed the air around them—“and it’s particularly wonderful that neither of your souls were stolen by isen. Blood Gavin would like to see you, Vagabond.”

“I’ll join them,” Braeden said.

“He asked to speak to her alone, Master Braeden.”

“That’s not going to happen. And you know I don’t like it when you use my title, so stop doing that.”

Demnug shook his head and turned around. He started down the trail, but not before he sighed and muttered under his breath so that only they could hear. “You are more stubborn than Blood Gavin, my friend. As you wish.”

Kara rolled her eyes and patted Braeden’s shoulder. “My hero.”

“You’re welcome.”

Kara nudged Ryn again with her heels, and the wolf trotted after Demnug. The trees ended after a bend in the path, revealing a mountain slope with a giant fissure in its face. A thin line of Kirelm soldiers tucked their wings in as they walked through it and disappeared into the crevice. The mountain towered overhead, the crack in its rock several hundred feet tall by the time he and Kara actually stopped beneath it.

Braeden patted Ryn on the neck and dismounted, offering a hand to Kara. She ignored him and slid down on her own. He shook his head and walked through the fissure ahead of her, but not before he saw her scratch Ryn’s ears. The wolf dissolved into dust at her touch, no doubt disappearing into the Grimoire pendant around Kara’s neck to wait to be summoned yet again.

A cluster of stable hands manned the entrance, and one them turned to lead Demnug’s drowng to one of the hundreds of stalls in an adjacent stable carved from the stone. Demnug bowed as they walked in and gestured to a pathway on the left. Hallways rose overhead, crossing over one another in curved bridges connecting the dozens of floors above. Flick stuck his head through the edge of Kara’s satchel and chirped as he looked around with wide eyes.

Demnug led them down a hallway to the left and up a dozen flights of steps. Several of the rooms’ doors stood open, the beds inside untouched as their occupants had apparently not yet arrived. Each room Braeden passed contained a mirror, dresser, and even a robe draped over each bed. If it hadn’t been for the deep gouges in the walls or occasional missing handrail, Braeden would never have guessed the city had been lost to the world for thousands of years.

Kara stopped just a few feet in front of Braeden, which made him snap out of his reverie. Demnug knocked on the last door in the hall and waited for an answer, but the entry opened on its own. Braeden looked through to see Gavin peering out of a window, his hands behind his back. The Blood turned to face them, but his eyebrows rose when he caught Braeden’s eye.

Gavin took a few steps closer. “Are you well, brother? You were gone quite a long time.”

“I’ve been better.”

“We weren’t sure if you would make it for the Gala, but Richard prepared a suit for you just in case. It’s on your bed, though the Gala has been delayed until tomorrow because some guests have yet to arrive.”

Kara chuckled, and Braeden resisted the impulse to smile. Yakona were always late.

“Thank you, Gavin. I haven’t heard any rumors of the Gala at all, so I wasn’t prepared,” he lied.

Gavin smiled. “That’s good, then! Security is doing its job. We’ve been patrolling this location for a month now. It’s safe as can be. But if you’ll excuse us, I would like to speak to the Vagabond privately.”

“She already told me what you did, Gavin. I’m not leaving.”

Gavin sighed. He pulled out a chair and sat at the table in his study, even though a messy array of parchment papers adorned with trees and cliffs and gorges littered its surface. Kara took a deep breath and crossed her arms, eyes on the Blood. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow, and Braeden braced himself. Between Kara and Gavin, one hot temper was about to ignite.

Kara spoke first. “Gavin, you’re the one who asked me here. Let’s not just sit in silence.”

He waved her comment away with a lazy hand. “I will explain. I’m simply hunting for the right words.”

Bags lined Gavin’s eyes, and the king’s shoulders slouched a bit. Braeden’s gut twisted. He barely recognized the man he’d grown up with. He couldn’t imagine the stress of being Blood; he certainly didn’t want the responsibility. He glanced at Kara.

Gavin finally took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Kara. I don’t know how you found out about the tiara, but I’m actually glad you did. Please forgive Twin, as she was acting under my orders. I hope that the two of you will remain friends.”

“I do forgive her, but I’m not as certain I’ll forgive you. Where did this sudden remorse come from?” Kara asked.

“I may be the Blood, but I still have a father who freely speaks his mind.”

She nodded, as if that was enough. “Good. I hope he chewed your head off.”

Gavin nodded. “He did. I’ve tried so desperately to keep you with us. I wanted Hillside to be your home because it’s the safest place for you to be.”

“That’s what Frine said when he tried to kidnap me. I barely escaped then, too,” she said.

Gavin turned to face her and narrowed his eyes.

Kara continued. “Starting a war to get revenge on Carden for killing your mother isn’t the right reason to go into this peace treaty, Gavin. It won’t last when it’s over.”

“We all have our own agendas, even you. Don’t act righteous,” he spat.

“Don’t even start. I’m not going to live in Hillside, no matter what you do or say. I’m not a weapon in your arsenal. And if you ever try to control me again, I just won’t help you at all. Are we clear?”

Gavin looked back out the window and let her question settle, unanswered, on the air. Braeden wanted to add something, to drive the point home, but he kept quiet. He hated the fact that Kara kept him at an arm’s reach, but he understood her reasons. Gavin would no doubt interfere if it became clear that Braeden cared for her as more than the Vagabond.

Gavin gestured toward the door. “I would like to speak to my brother, Vagabond. Twin is outside. She will show you to your room.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

“You’ve made your point clear enough, Vagabond. I don’t feel that’s necessary.”

Kara hesitated, but turned and caught Braeden’s eye for a moment before she opened the door. Twin stood waiting in the hallway and smiled at Braeden. The door closed.

“I know those maps,” Braeden said when they were alone. He lifted one from the table. It depicted a dark gorge where mists played in the shadows and snow touched everything in sight.

Gavin nodded. “Suspected locations of the Stele, yes.”

“You weren’t even listening to her, were you?”

“Why are you so concerned with the Vagabond, brother?”

“I’m not. I’m worried about you,” he lied. “I don’t even recognize you anymore. Becoming the Blood has changed you.”

Gavin ran his hand along his jaw. “For the better. I see the world a little clearer, now. Braeden, there is more at play than you realize. You have no idea what’s going on, and you must remove yourself from this.”

“It’s obvious what’s happening, Gavin. You’re trying to control the Vagabond. Why? The tiara trick failed. If you’re still trying, it means you haven’t learned anything!”

“That’s enough!” Gavin stood. His voice boomed in the study, and the echo reminded Braeden very much of his father’s voice. The similarity floored him, and he couldn’t speak even as Gavin continued.

“You need to trust that I will tell you more when we return to Hillside. I respect you, Braeden, but you should not get close to her. She is not one of us and should not be treated in such a way. There are hundreds of Hillsidian women who would kill to have you. What happened to—what’s her name? Eloise? Find her. Or pick another woman, but stay with your own kind. Leave Kara out of your life.”

“Brother—”

“This conversation is over, Braeden. Prepare for the Gala, and try to enjoy yourself.”

Braeden gritted his teeth and forced himself to bow before he stormed from the room. A guard ushered him into a bedroom and left just as quickly.

The mattress dipped under Braeden’s weight as he sat on the edge of his bed and wondered how power hungry his brother had become. A resourceful Blood like Gavin could find a way to take anything—and anyone—he wanted. Kara would never be safe so long as she remained nearby.

Braeden reached a hand in his pocket and fiddled with the small talisman he’d brought with him from the Drenowith caves where Adele had trained him. The muse had discussed several matters with him, including one that he’d never wanted to speak aloud: the fact that, after all these years, he still kept the key to his father’s kingdom. It was a small, black carving, its design comprised of several black jade thorns interwoven in a small square. Though it had nothing to do with Carden’s hold over him, keeping it confirmed what he subconsciously knew: someday, he would want to go back to the Stele.

A thought pulled on his mind, buzzing like a fly just out of reach. This sensation only ever plagued him whenever he thought of the Stele or sensed Carden’s presence. How annoying. It would disappear if he could only ignore it.

He rolled out of his bed and looked through the window as the red sun set over the vast forests below. His room loomed over the ground, much higher up than he’d expected.

In the rooms above and below him, representatives from four of the five remaining yakona races bustled and prepared for the Gala. That the kingdoms were even here proved miracles could happen, but a treaty was only the first step. If Gavin made another move to control Kara, everything she had worked for would dissolve from under her.

Braeden ruffled his hair and opened his door. He walked down the hall until he found a guard and asked for Kara’s room. She was a floor above.

He took a staircase and walked toward her room, trying to figure out the missing puzzle piece in Gavin’s intentions. The Hillsidian had tried and failed to control Kara, but he knew nothing of limits or restraint. A cursed tiara was no doubt the first of many deceptions.

Kara sat on her bed. The plush comforter reminded her of Hillside, which simultaneously comforted and terrified her. She would have to return there eventually, but she would postpone that as long as possible.

Twin had left almost as soon as she dropped Kara off, mumbling something about how Kara could use some time alone. And after the week she’d spent with Braeden, she could definitely use some time to think.

She sighed. He’d wrapped an arm around her in his sleep last night.

The door opened and shut before Kara could even look up. Gavin stood by the entrance, his hands behind his back.

“Normal people knock, Gavin,” she said without getting up.

“Normal people also bow when in the presence of a king, so I suppose neither of us is normal.”

Kara shook her head and resumed her stare out the window.

He cleared his throat. “I came to apologize for the incident with the tiara. It was arrogant.”

“It was many things, none of them nice. Therefore, you’ll need a bit more than that to make up for it.”

He walked around to the edge of her bed and set something on the comforter behind her. He crossed to the window and leaned against it, blocking most of her view. With such a relaxed stance, he looked more like an athlete than a king. He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her, three feet away and too close for comfort.

Kara wanted to turn and see what he put on the comforter, but a small part of her already knew she wouldn’t like it. She caught his eye and almost instantly regretted it. His stare made her throat tighten. Her heart raced. He gave her a smolder, a look that had no doubt broken many a heart in his lifetime.