Rise of the Storm (The Broken Lands Book 2) Read online

  “I see,” Father said. He glanced at me as well before clearing his throat. “I’d like to hear the full report from the scouts.”

  Father nudged me toward the dark stairwell leading to the catacombs and my makeshift cell. Usually, I went without complaint, but now I hesitated to obey. My father’s and Falla’s reluctance to speak in front of me was obvious. But this was the third time I’d heard Shard leaders talking about strange attacks. If Kostan’s soldiers were attacking—if I was somehow wrong about him—I wanted to know.

  “What happened?” I asked, pretending to be oblivious to their signals. “What kind of attacks?”

  Father’s throat worked as he considered his words. “The truth is, we don’t know. Given the… savage nature, it might be animals.”

  As he spoke, I saw skepticism in Falla’s eyes. But she didn’t contradict him.

  “How soon can you be ready to speak with the scouts?” Falla asked. “They’ve found new signs and—” Again her gaze flicked to me. “—they’d like to address the entire conclave.”

  “I’ll head straight to the banquet hall.” Again, Father gestured at the stairwell. “Go now, Savra. I’ll collect you later for a meal and sword practice.”

  I nodded and headed for the stairs. Near the entrance, a Sharder detached from the wall and prepared to escort me to my cell. In a welcome change from the glares of the rebels outside, she managed a polite nod as I stepped onto the narrow staircase. Behind me, my father’s voice was a low rumble of concern.

  A flight of perhaps twenty stairs led into the depths. Dry air filled the passages beneath the keep, smelling of dust and ancient things. Every few paces, a lamp cast flickering light over the rough-hewn walls. The catacombs had once served as both a crypt and a dungeon. But the bodies that had once lain upon the stone shelves in the burial chambers were long gone. Maybe the builders had taken their dead with them when they left. Or maybe they’d vanished so long ago that even their bones had crumbled to dust.

  I tiptoed as I walked ahead of my Sharder escort. Whether deliberately or not, the woman behind me moved just as silently. In the catacombs, sounds felt louder, as if our very presence disturbed the peace of the place.

  At least the Sharders had chosen to keep me in a former dungeon cell rather than a crypt chamber. The bars that had once sealed the chamber had long since rotted away, so my jailers had installed a makeshift door using nailed-together panels from a crate. A heavy chain and lock secured my prison. For close to twenty days, I’d slept in this lonely cell, waiting for judgment while Stormshard gathered its army. The isolation made me wish for a return to the weeks-long march that had brought us into the mountains. Despite the blisters on my feet and the bone-deep exhaustion after a day’s trek, at least I’d been with my father.

  I stepped into the chamber, accepting a lantern from the Sharder before she shut and locked the door.

  At the rear of the chamber, a shallow trench had once carried water through the cell. Dry now, it had probably been both a latrine and a source of drinking water. My bedding had been unfolded against one wall, and a waterskin rested beside it.

  I listened carefully for the scuff of the Sharder woman’s feet but heard nothing. She was already gone. In the silence of my cell, reality struck. My judgment loomed.

  I laid my hand over my bracelet. It had been a gift from Parveld, the strange man who’d claimed to have seen visions of my future. Two spirits, Lilik and Raav, were imprisoned within the band.

  You should try to sleep, Lilik said into my mind. Though the black-iron collar confined my aura-sight to the boundaries of my flesh, it hadn’t severed my bond with the couple.

  Sleep? Now? I returned. I may go on trial today.

  I know. But… How to put it? I believe these attacks are even more pressing than the conclave’s decision. Falla was hiding something. It’s almost as if there’s a strange presence in the aether, too. Bad things are coming, and I think you’ll want to be as rested as possible.

  I struggled to focus on her words. The attacks worried me. But with the vote on my fate approaching, shouldn’t I focus on what I would say in my defense?

  Do you mean the conclave will postpone my trial because of the attacks?

  I don’t know, Savra, Lilik said. I wish I had a better sense of it.

  I dropped to a seat on the bedding and slouched against the wall. Maybe I should listen to her advice. With a deep breath, I tried to force away my fear. Unfortunately, the attempt to focus only made me notice that my hands were shaking.

  “I wish they weren’t afraid to speak in front of me,” I said aloud. “I can’t blame Stormshard for treating me this way, but what harm could I possibly do?”

  “Talking to yourself?” I jumped when Falla’s voice pressed through a crack in the makeshift door. Her feet cast shadows in the gap above the stone floor.

  I coughed, covering my surprise. “Not much company down here. I make do with what I have.” I hadn’t told anyone about the powers of the bracelet, and—except for eventually confessing its existence to my father—I didn’t plan to.

  The woman laughed as a key clicked against the lock. The chain clanked when it fell aside. Falla slipped into the room on soft-soled shoes, her graceful movements creating just the faintest whisper. Though she was well into midlife, Falla had none of the stiffness most people her age suffered. Even with the tightness of grief on her finely lined face, her ageless beauty shone through.

  She glanced around the cell, lip slightly curled. “I’m sorry you’re confined like this.”

  I shrugged. “Like I was saying to myself, I don’t blame Stormshard.”

  “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’ve been clear in my support of you. I was as fooled by Kostan as you were.”

  I clamped my lips shut. Kostan had abandoned Falla beside a mountain trail with a freshly broken arm and few supplies. Worse, he’d stolen her prized horse. Nothing I could say would change her opinion of him. Maybe once he’d had a chance to rule, he would redeem himself in her eyes.

  “I appreciate it,” I said after a moment.

  Again, Falla ran her eyes over the walls, brow furrowed. She stood at ease, but a callused hand hovered near her dagger’s hilt. After so many years with Stormshard, she must have learned to be ready to fight at any moment. Even with the sling supporting her broken arm, she’d make a worthy adversary for anyone who crossed her. I doubted my father had ever felt the need to warn her about the advantage men had with their weight and reach.

  “I don’t like them keeping you underground,” she said. “Our Shard already learned the dangers of caverns and tunnels. You’d think your father would have argued for a safer cell.”

  It seemed to me that these catacombs were just as safe as the rooms overhead in the keep. If a quake collapsed the tunnels, the walls and roof of the fortress would follow. And when they did, the high-ranking Sharders camped inside the walls would be crushed as flat as me. But considering that she’d recently lost her husband to a collapse, I chose not to argue.

  I wasn’t sure why the woman had come; so far only my father had visited me down here. When he couldn’t come, other Sharders brought my meals, but they’d never stopped to chat.

  “Your father can’t join you for lunch and sword practice,” Falla said as if hearing my unvoiced question.

  “Why?”

  She cleared her throat. “He’s ridden out with the scouts. He wanted to see what the trackers found with his own eyes. Anyway… Savra, he didn’t send me just to tell you that.”

  “Oh?” I said, brows raised at her tone.

  “The vote is today. This afternoon. The final members of the conclave arrived this morning. Your father has been asked to abstain from voting, as his bias is clear.”

  A chill crept into my chest. “Of course it is. But that shouldn’t take away his right to cast his vote.”

  Falla shrugged. “It’s also possible they don’t want him in the room when your sentence
is pronounced. This new union of the Shards is fragile. Violence would undo much of what they’ve worked for.”

  Her words hit me like a blow. Had the Shard leaders already decided to condemn me?

  “Why did he leave now, then?” If there were ever a time when I needed him close, it was this vote.

  Falla extended a hand to help me up. “He already gave his testimony regarding your innocence. Though I’m not officially part of the conclave, I was there while he spoke for you. He’s persuasive, Savra. But now that he’s spoken, the best way he can help you is by proving his allegiance to Stormshard. He rode out with the scouts to show how seriously he takes his duties. And possibly, to discover evidence of how badly we need you in our ranks.”

  “Because of my spiritism?”

  She nodded as she grasped my wrist and pulled. As I stood, a thought occurred to me. “If the attacks are a threat to Stormshard, why is the leadership keeping them secret? I’ve seen you and the leaders check that none of the ordinary Sharders are listening before you talk about them.”

  “An observant little mouse, aren’t you?” Falla said with a smirk. “Here’s the thing. There are certain details about the attacks which may complicate our mission. But we want answers before we distract the bulk of our forces.”

  “Which details?”

  She inhaled before continuing. “For the last few years, there have been isolated killings in the mountains. Small caravans murdered. Groups of hunters slain. This time, our scouts found a whole village slaughtered.”

  I knew she was hiding something big, Lilik said into my mind.

  I grimaced. A whole village dead? Only the imperial protectors could do such a thing. But if the Empire’s soldiers had massacred a town, did that mean…? I swallowed the cold knot of regret forming in my throat. “How long ago did it happen? Maybe new orders haven’t arrived from Steelhold yet.”

  Falla cast me a look that was almost pitying. “In this case, your Emperor Kostan isn’t to blame. We don’t think, anyway. Because it’s not just Provs who’ve been massacred. The attack before this slew every soldier in a small protectors’ garrison. For months—years maybe—mountain Provs have whispered of unnatural beasts stalking isolated journeyers. Some believe the rumors and the killings are related.”

  “What do you think?”

  She shrugged. “Hard to say. Isolated people can be superstitious. In any case, we were prepared to ignore the occasional killing. We can’t defend every Prov in the Empire. But given the scale of the last attack, we feel we need answers. If nothing else, we need to know it's safe to move our forces from the protection of the keep. But enough of that. Your father tasked me with preparing you for the conclave’s interrogation, and a full belly is the first step.”

  I glanced around the room. “I’m not allowed out except to practice swordplay.”

  “I figure I’m a capable guard for a dangerous prisoner such as yourself,” Falla said with a smirk.

  “Do they really believe I’m a danger?”

  She knuckled my shoulder. “Probably not. Keeping you down here is as much for your safety as ours, given what many Sharders think of you.” Pulling her blade, she pressed the point into a hairline crack in the wall beside my arm. “Anyway, call it self-interest if you want, but I don’t want to be down here longer than I have to. Between the meal and my examination, we’ll need a couple of hours at least.”

  “Examination?” I said.

  “It will be difficult with that collar, but we’ll do our best.”

  I blinked in surprise. “Wait. Are you a—”

  “Spiritist? Indeed. And your father wants me to inform the conclave on the advantages your abilities might provide. Now, if you wouldn’t mind,” she said, glancing at the ceiling. “I really hate it down here.”

  “Of course,” I said, nodding. When she stepped from my cell, I followed. At the very least, I wouldn’t spend the last hours before my trial alone in the dungeon.

  Chapter Five

  Kostan

  Office of the Protectors, Steelhold

  MINISTER GILLER BENT a knee, lowering himself until his kneecap nearly touched the floor. Nearly, but not quite. He bowed his head, beard brushing the top of his foot. It was the proper show of submission, kneeling without relaxing. He remained that way, trembling with the effort of holding the uncomfortable posture.

  The moment stretched out. Beside me, Vaness and Azar, the apprentice ferro mage who had been loyal to my Ascension, shifted in their chairs. Nonetheless, I didn’t invite the minister to stand. He and the other members of the Ministry had plotted against the throne. They’d planned to kill me on the same night they murdered my fellow Scions and my predecessor. This man deserved no mercy from me; the brief stay of execution he currently enjoyed was more than I owed him.

  Weeks ago, I’d given the order to execute four of the ministers. I’d forced myself to watch as they’d been beheaded in the central courtyard. The spirit of Emperor Tovmeil had convinced me it was a necessary show of strength if I wished to retain my authority—in fact, he’d advised me to kill them all. The memory of the executions still made my stomach heave. Nightmares plagued my sleep. On days when the recollections came most often, I couldn’t stand to look in a mirror. No matter how I hated the Ministry for the murders they’d committed, I couldn’t banish the memory of helpless men and women led to the headsman’s block. Their lives had ended at my command.

  At least I had a reason to spare the remaining seven ministers—for now. In the final two years that were supposed to have preceded our Ascension, the other Scions and I would have learned the intricacies of imperial diplomacy. If I’d been chosen Emperor on the intended day rather than two years early, the other Scions would have become my ministers. Likewise, if one of my peers had Ascended, I would have joined their Ministry. But with the other Scions murdered, not to mention the missed instruction from those last two years, I sorely lacked in knowledge. Without advisers who understood the complicated alliances and hatreds amongst the Atal elite, I would never hold the allegiance of the most powerful families in the Empire. The elite worked little and complained frequently. But they sent sons and daughters to join the ranks of the protectors. Their trade deals brought needed supplies to Atal.

  For now, I needed the elite and the merchant class, too. Which meant selecting an adviser or two from among the ministers. Afterward, I didn’t know what I’d do. Execute those not chosen?

  The thought turned my stomach.

  In any case, I made sure the living ministers knew their lives were at stake. I stared down at Minister Giller, fixing him with an impassive glare.

  “You claimed you had information on the plot against Emperor Tovmeil and my fellow Scions,” I said.

  “If I might,” Minister Giller said as he rose a knuckle’s width from the floor.

  “You may not,” I said. “And the next time you forget to afford me the proper title, your audience is concluded.”

  Trembling with the effort, he lowered his knee again. “Yes, your eminence.”

  “You have until your legs give out to convince me your information is worthwhile. Choose your time wisely.”

  My heavy wooden chair was uncomfortable enough to remind me of the burdens resting on my shoulders. The back was straight, and no cushions softened the seat. The public audience chamber boasted a throne upholstered in fine velvet and cushions covered in the pelt of a hunting cat. That seat was designed to awe all petitioners with the power of the Empire.

  The chair I sat in now was designed to remind the Emperor of that power’s weight.

  “If you’ll grant me the luxury of correcting one thing, your eminence,” the minister said.

  “Your remaining time is yours to spend,” I returned.

  “As I conveyed to your representative, the Ministry disagreed with Emperor Tovmeil. We met in secret to discuss methods to sway him toward our position. But to call that a plot would be an exaggeration.”
r />   “I see. And the deaths of the Scions?”

  “An unfortunate mistake, your eminence. We decided to take hostages from among the Scions as a final ploy to gain leverage. I was not in the Scions’ bedchambers during the… tragic killings. I must assume something went wrong.”

  The man was lying, but he managed it convincingly. If I didn’t know the truth, I might have believed him. A quick glance at Azar and Vaness showed no reaction to the man’s claims. Good. Let him wonder what effects his words had.

  “When Emperor Tovmeil returned to Steelhold, he claimed he’d fled out of fear for his life. To me, that suggests more than a simple disagreement. It suggests you wished to eliminate him to further your aims.”

  The man was quaking now. Though I wished I could credit my line of questioning with straining him, I suspected his thighs were on the brink of exhaustion.

  “Emperor Tovmeil must have received poor information. As you saw, he returned to the Hold unharmed.”

  “Indeed?” I said. “Unharmed you say?”

  His brow knitted. “You don’t remember, your eminence? Your lashings just before his arrival were traumatic—and regrettable, I might add. But surely you remember the health in which Emperor Tovmeil presented himself at the Sun Gate.”

  I gritted my teeth at the lie. The ministers knew their plan had succeeded. They’d hidden the body and concealed the assassination. But they assumed I was ignorant of the truth, fooled by Tovmeil’s apparition.

  It wouldn’t be wise for me to admit the truth, but it would be difficult to choose advisers from among men and women who had no reason to believe I could detect their lies.

  A dilemma.

  In any case, I’d gain little more by speaking to the man.

  “Of course. I must have been addled by the sun and the loss of blood. I remember now,” I said. “So, you wish me to know the Ministry meant Tovmeil no real harm.”

  “Exactly. And there hasn’t been a night since the Scions’ deaths that I haven’t lain awake with guilt heavy in my chest, your eminence.”