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

  “I see.”

  The minister’s legs gave out, and his lowered knee hit the floor. I gestured to Vaness and Azar, ceding the right to ask any further questions.

  “I’ve heard enough,” Vaness said.

  “And I,” Azar added.

  “You are excused,” I said, shooing the minister away.

  Minister Giller stood with no small measure of difficulty. At the door exiting the chamber, he turned. “Perhaps we could speak again. You might find my experience useful in the coming months.”

  I said nothing.

  When the door clicked shut behind him, I turned to Vaness. “Anything I might have missed?”

  She twisted the ring on her middle finger. With it, she could use argent magic to peer into someone’s mind. The single band of Maelstrom-silver afforded just a solitary argent rank. Scarcely enough to look deeply.

  She shrugged. “You already know he was lying.”

  “So were the others. Yet I must choose someone to spare. Ideally two or three.”

  Vaness sighed. “As far as I can tell, you won’t find a redeeming quality among them.”

  “That’s what I feared,” I said, squeezing the hardwood arm of my chair. “Yet I feel I must try. I don’t know how else I’ll bind the elite to me.”

  “I don’t know, either, Kostan. But I have some good news. I’ve managed to set up a meeting in the city. A promising lead this time. I need to go quickly.”

  I stood. “And the Prime Protector requested an audience with me. We’ll speak later, yes?”

  Both Vaness and Azar nodded, sketching bows that made me feel self-conscious. They were my friends, not my servants. But it was no use arguing. Spinning, I headed for the door of the chamber. They’d follow once a respectful amount of time had passed.

  ***

  “I would have come to you, your eminence,” the Prime Protector said as she jumped to her feet. Unlike the rest of her order, the stone-faced fighters slaved to their duty, her eyes remained sharp as she set down a sheaf of papers.

  I pulled the door shut behind me, closing out the bustle filling Steelhold’s alleys and courtyards. With no windows and thick stone walls, the main chamber of the Office of Protectors was a quiet sanctuary. My cloak rasped against the rough stone floor as I crossed to a simple chair before the Prime’s desk. In steel brackets on the wall, three lanterns cast stark light over the austere furnishings.

  “To be frank, I was eager to escape my chambers,” I said. Over the few weeks of my rule, I’d grown both accustomed to and resentful of the heavy drapes and polished wood that crowded the Emperor’s rooms. I longed for the comparatively simple furnishings of my Scion’s bedchamber, or better, a bare room and narrow cot at the Graybranch Inn.

  I glimpsed a flash of understanding on her face. We all had duties to the Empire. If anything, hers were more onerous than mine.

  “At the very least, a few of my protectors should accompany you when you move about the Hold,” she said.

  Unfastening my cloak’s clasp—the ridiculous garment tried to choke me whenever I sat—I shook my head. “If I can’t move about my own citadel without fear for my life, how can I expect to secure my Empire? The capital is in chaos despite my efforts. I must appear confident in my own home if I’m to inspire change.”

  She cast me a glance that held all the arguments she wouldn’t voice. The day after my Ascension, she’d suggested the protectors march through the city block by block, putting down the rioters and resistance by any means necessary. I’d refused. I would not begin my reign with the same tactics used by the men and women before me. But as the weeks dragged on and mobs gathered daily, doubt had crept into my heart.

  “What did you wish to speak about?” I asked.

  She glanced at her chair as if wondering whether to sit in my presence. “Even if we don’t use force in the city, we must move forward on the investigation of the assassinations.”

  “Agreed, of course. And please do sit.” Though the Ministry had been behind the plot against Emperor Tovmeil, no one knew how the murderers had defeated Steelhold’s defenses, in particular how they’d passed the guards and wards outside the individual bedrooms.

  With a stiff spine, she lowered herself to the front edge of her chair. “I’ve been questioning the guards about the red-haired woman who forced them to open the Shadow Gate. Though I initially doubted you’d seen someone of that description during the chaos, I’ve revised my opinion. A woman with the sort of power they describe could have easily hidden in plain sight. Forgive me for the lack of faith.”

  I sat up straight. “Wait. I thought we were discussing the plot against Emperor Tovmeil and the other Scions.”

  The Prime Protector fixed me with a perplexed stare. “The attacks were related, don’t you agree? Both targeted the throne and the line of succession. The Ministry failed the first time they attempted to kill you and Emperor Tovmeil, so they tried again.”

  I ran my fingers over my kneecaps while trying to decide how to answer. The Prime didn’t know the details of Tovmeil’s fate. Like most, she believed he’d returned to Steelhold in the flesh. The Ministers who’d disposed of his body must have recognized the illusion, and I, of course, had spoken with the apparition. Tovmeil had explained to me how Ferromaster Ilishian’s spell had allowed him to cross back to the mortal realm. But I’d kept my knowledge close.

  “Emperor Tovmeil’s return was too abrupt for the Ministry to have laid the second plan.”

  “Unless it had been prepared ahead of time. Perhaps the assassin only awaited the signal to proceed. But back to the red-haired woman—”

  “Savra,” I said, her name bringing back memories of our time together in the Graybranch Inn. I remembered how she smelled of fresh grasses and summer breezes even after days in the city.

  The Prime’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You know her name. That is excellent news and the best lead we have. What else can you tell me about her? I can have trackers ready to seek her within the day.”

  I shook my head. “Wait, you don’t think—Savra wasn’t behind the murder attempt. She tackled the assassin and deflected the poisoned blade.”

  The woman’s gaze dropped from mine. I could tell she wanted to argue but feared to oppose me directly.

  “Prime,” I began, then paused. “I knew Savra when I was—when I fled Steelhold in fear of the Ministry. We met in Jaliss. She is not a killer. She’s just a Prov hoping to fulfill her Function.”

  Just a Prov. The words felt flat on my tongue. She wasn’t just a Prov. She was a kind young woman with hopes and dreams, living under the oppression of an Empire that saw her as less than human. She was earnest and caring, and she’d helped me before she even knew me, declaring me her betrothed so that Fishel, the owner of the Graybranch Inn, would give me a room.

  “With all due respect, Emperor, I suggest you consider the facts. How did you make this woman’s acquaintance? Could it be that she arranged your meeting in hopes of furthering her cause? Renegades to the Empire are known for subterfuge.”

  I shook my head. “It was only happenstance.”

  “Maybe so. But I feel compelled to follow up. Where did you meet?” Though the Prime’s voice was casual, I could hear the hard edge in it. If I mentioned the Graybranch Inn, she would send protectors to search for information. Only my direct order would stop it. But if I forbade her from chasing leads, I’d damage our relationship. I needed the Prime to keep my throne secure. And I did wish to unearth the full truth about the assassination attempts.

  “I met her on a street in the Merchant’s Quarter,” I lied, hating myself for it. “She needed help finding the Hall of Registry.”

  “I see,” the Prime said, her keen eyes on my face. “Well, I suppose we need not belabor the conversation then. Unless, of course, there’s anything else you might be able to share. The longer the investigation takes, the greater the chance the murderers will attempt to strike again.”

  I stood and grabbed my cloak where it had fallen over the chair’s back. With shoulders straight, I fixed my Emperor’s mask over my features, commanding and self-assured. “There’s nothing else. Follow the lead with Savra, but do not let it blind the investigation to other options. I’d like daily updates on the progress.”

  The Prime’s expression was hard as she nodded. “I’ll send a messenger as soon as I have anything. And please, as a favor to me, consider asking the protector outside the door to escort you to your next destination.”

  Chapter Six

  Savra

  A second-story balcony in an ancient keep

  FALLA SAT EASILY on a makeshift stool of stacked stones. Beside her, a low railing edged the balcony, guarding against the drop from the keep’s second floor. I teetered on my own pile of rocks, the topmost stone rocking every time I shifted. Between us, the woman had spread a square of canvas and laid out flatbreads, dried meats, and a wheel of cheese along with a knife to cut it.

  The Sharder woman gazed over the encampment filling the fortress’s grounds. In the lee of the keep, tents jumbled haphazardly, pitch-poles leaning like the masts of ships beached by low tide. Though some rebels continued to hone their combat skills, other exhausted Sharders slept beneath stained tarps and poked at small animal carcasses roasting on spits. They were a ragged lot. The renegades had traveled far to reach this fortress, and with the earthquakes and upheaval rocking the Empire, the journey had been wearying.

  “They’re hardier than they look,” Falla commented.

  Given what I’d seen from Stormshard members, I didn’t doubt it. But still, the gathered fighters hardly seemed a force capable of storming Steelhold.

  Maybe the conclave knew something I didn’t. Of course, I didn’t kno
w whether to feel relieved or dismayed about Stormshard’s shoddy army. I liked the Sharders I’d met—Joran excepted—and I didn’t want my father harmed. But a Stormshard victory meant Kostan’s defeat.

  “If they’re anything like Sirez, I don’t doubt their toughness,” I said. “When I met her, she single-handedly chased off a group of thugs who were hassling me.” Sirez was the informal leader of the Shard operating in the Empire’s capital, Jaliss. She’d recruited me as a probationary member of the rebel group.

  Falla cut a slice from the cheese wheel. She held the bite before her as if contemplating something. Though it was nearing midday, the chill breeze still swirled down from the peaks surrounding the vale. The wind stirred the few stray hairs which had escaped Falla’s braid.

  “And despite her help, you gave your loyalty to Kostan in the end,” the Sharder woman said.

  I shrugged, cheeks warming. “I—”

  “Try this,” she said, interrupting me and holding out the cheese. “It comes from pastures near the Wildsends. Very distinct.”

  Confused by her change of subject, I slipped the bite between my lips. My eyes widened—it was delicious. Creamy and nutty and entirely different from the hard blocks Numintown received in our shipments of rations. I eyed the cheese knife, wondering if the Sharder woman would protest me laying a hand on a blade.

  Falla cast me a satisfied smile. “As I suspected. Evrain can’t get enough of this stuff. Must be something in your coastal blood.”

  “That or it’s just good,” I said, giving in and reaching for the knife.

  “It is indeed.” Falla’s expression sobered, her mouth a grim line. “And according to rumors, a recent quake collapsed a cliff and buried the herders’ encampment. This wheel may be one of the last we ever taste.”

  As if a cloud had dimmed the mountain sun, the chill air sank through my clothing and raised a shiver from my flesh. “The quakes are getting worse, aren’t they? Havialo said the leaders in Steelhold believe the land itself is breaking.”

  Falla nodded. “Steelhold is well aware of the damage the quakes are causing. Not just a breaking. They call it the Breaking. Yet the Emperor does nothing.”

  “But what could the throne do?”

  Falla shrugged. “Quite possibly, nothing. But even if this Breaking is inevitable, the Empire could minimize the suffering. Many of the Prov herders who made this cheese survived the quake. But they have no homes and hardly any livestock left. Chilltide approaches. Perhaps it would have been better if they’d died in their tents.”

  My thoughts strayed to Parveld’s claim that terrible times were indeed coming and that somehow I had an important role in protecting Atal and the Provinces from complete destruction. I still didn’t know what to think about that.

  “Maybe Kostan will be different,” I said, despite myself.

  Falla sighed, her eyes on the grounds below us. A new group of arrivals had just trudged through the opening in the outer wall. After scanning the heaps of rubble and foundation stones, the newcomers marched to a low alcove and dropped their belongings. Other Sharders quickly gathered to help the arrivals settle in.

  “I won’t try to convince you,” Falla said. “I was young once. Less cynical than I am now, especially when an attractive young man was involved. But I’d advise you not to make those sorts of statements during your coming trial.”

  I tore off a hunk of flatbread, ducking my head. Course flour clung to my fingers, and I rubbed them off on my trousers. “I know.”

  She stretched her legs, propping her heels on the railing while remaining balanced on her perch. Maybe her stack of rocks was more stable than mine. “So, what do you know of your abilities?” she asked.

  “My spiritism?”

  She nodded. “Given what Sirez told me, your domain is Mind. Control aspect, it seems. But even within a domain-aspect pairing, the strengths of an individual spiritist vary greatly.”

  I blinked. Domain? Aspect? “I—well, I don’t know. I’ve always had my aura-sight, but until recently it only happened when I was afraid or angry.”

  Falla’s eyebrows raised. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Honestly? Likewise.”

  She tapped a finger against her chin. “Let’s back up for a moment. Sirez told me you took command of the gate guards at Steelhold. Is that true?”

  I nodded, chewing my lower lip. “Before you judge me, you should know I didn’t enjoy it.”

  She shook her head. “I wouldn’t even think of it. I’m only trying to understand. So when you controlled them, was it through manipulating their bodies or their minds?”

  I looked down and realized I’d torn my bite of flatbread into crumbs. Hastily, I gathered them into my hand before I wasted food. Everything we ate, save for the small contribution of the hunters, had been hauled here.

  “I’m not really sure. Their minds, I suppose.”

  Falla cocked her head. “It’s so strange. Who taught you? I can’t imagine someone instructing you in such advanced techniques without first explaining the domains and aspects.”

  I stuffed a wad of crumbs in my mouth and chewed. I hadn’t anticipated these sorts of questions. I didn’t want to lie to Falla, especially knowing she was a spiritist and might be able to read my thoughts. But if that were true, wouldn’t she know about Lilik and my bracelet already?

  “No one explained how to take hold of the guards,” I said, sticking to the truth as best I could. “I got lucky, I suppose. I could sense how the argent magic in the guards’ wrist cuffs bound them to follow orders, and I did something similar.”

  Falla stared at me, brow lowered in concentration. I fought the urge to fidget under her scrutiny. “Curious. Well, it certainly sounds like you commanded their wills more than their bodies.”

  I shrugged. “I suppose so.”

  “Mind domain. It has to be. And there’s no question about the aspect.”

  I picked up a tin cup and took a sip of water. A dull ache was forming behind my eyes. “What are the domains?”

  Falla turned back to look over the grounds. Beyond the outer wall, a stream tumbled over white-granite boulders, slicing a sharp cut between the slopes where it left the high valley. The trail was a faint path through tundra and scraggly, low-growing pines. She squinted and shaded her eyes against the bright mountain sun.

  “Mind, Body, and Essence—Look Savra,” she said, pointing. “I think your father is back already.”

  Relief spread through my chest. As I stood, the topmost stone fell from my stool, clattering against the balcony. When I pressed my hand to my brow to shade my eyes, I spotted them. A pair of mounted figures rode up the trail at a fast trot.

  With my attention fixed on the riders, I started when a hand fell on my shoulder. I turned to meet the eyes of a woman I recognized as a Shard leader. I didn’t know her name, but authority rested easily on her shoulders.

  “Your presence is required,” she said. “We’ve come to a decision on your fate.”

  ***

  The conclave met in a room they’d nicknamed the banquet hall. I’d assumed they’d named it because the chamber’s dimensions suited their vision of a dining hall. But when I stepped through the wide doorway, not even my fear of the conclave’s decision could overcome my awe.

  A hundred paces separated me from the chamber’s far wall. High above, shadows filled the vaulted ceiling while just the barest hints of torchlight danced across ribs of stone. I felt as if I stood in the cavernous belly of a whale, its ribcage and spine arched high overhead. But no matter how awestriking the structure, the table in the center of the room stole my breath.

  Carved of a single block of stone, the massive table stretched nearly the length of the chamber. Beside it, rows of stone chairs stood like soldiers, perhaps fifty per side. At the head and foot, thrones commanded attention, carved with intricate patterns from granite the dark gray of storm clouds. Along the long edges of the table, around three paces back, a series of pillars rose from the floor. The stone columns were cut from white marble veined with silver. Spheres of colorful gemstones as large as my head sat cradled in a bowl atop each pillar: jade and malachite, lapis lazuli and translucent quartz. An agate globe banded in the most vibrant orange and yellow perched atop the pillar nearest me. Staring at it, I could think of nothing but the fiery ball of the sun as it plunged into the waters of the Maelstrom.