Prodigal Steelwielder (Seals of the Duelists Book 3)

BOOK: Prodigal Steelwielder (Seals of the Duelists Book 3)
9.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Prodigal Steelwielder

Third Seal of the Duelists

 

Jasmine Giacomo

Dedication

For Sensei Kris

 

Acknowledgements

 

Thanks to my readers and fans for your outpouring of support! Thanks to my editing team at Red Adept, who helped me turn my story into the best version of itself. Thanks to my husband for his unwavering encouragement. Thanks to the world and everyone in it for being so amazing. I live an inspired life because of the magic I see around me.

Pronunciation Guide

 

Bantayan, Dunfarroghan and Shawnash

 

All Bantayan terms are pronounced with the basic Latin sounds, with one addition. The “ng” phoneme is always pronounced like the end of the word “sing”, never with a distinct “g” sound. Thus, Balanganam is pronounced as if it rhymes with “a song o’ Tom.”

Terms in Dunfarroghan and Shawnash are pronounced with the basic Latin sounds.

 

Waarden and Raqtaaq

 

The Waarden tongue is the official language of the Second Waarden Empire, and all citizens are required to learn it. Though most Waarden would cringe at the idea of their superiority being diluted, their language has been softened from its rough beginnings by the empire’s long inclusion of other cultures and tongues.

The double A, so common in Waarden and present in its very name, bears a long
ahh
sound, used in “par,” while single A’s have the short, broad sound found in the word “cat.” The letter J sounds like a Y, as in “yell.” Words ending in “-e” have an extra syllable for that letter, formed of the sound “eh.” Katje’s name is pronounced CAT-yeh, and Lotte is LOT-eh.

Much to the chagrin of the proud yet defeated Raqtaaq, their language makes as frequent use of the double-A as does the language of their Waarden conquerors. It performs the same sound as well, the long
ahh
, so that Raqtaaq is pronounced “rack-TOCK.” Their tongue also employs the “ng” blend mentioned in the Bantayan section above. Qivinga is pronounced “ki-VING-ah,” and rhymes with the British or Southern (American) pronunciation of “singer”.

 

Akrestan

 

Akrestan terms are pronounced like the Greek terms that inspired them, with vowel pairs always being pronounced as two separate sounds.

 

Corona

 

All Corona terms are pronounced with the basic Latin sounds. The “s” sound is softened to approximate a lisp.

Prologue

 

Tala dug her toes into the warm, golden beach sand, lifted her slender black crystals, and sang. They resonated in their horizontal positions atop twin brass rods, the better to receive the vibrations of her soprano voice. When her song concluded and each crystal resonated with its own final note, a thin ring of white light expanded into existence in the purpling twilight, revealing an arid, breezy land beyond.

On the far side, Bayan turned with a distracted smile. His dark, shaggy hair seemed to have grown longer already, though his shoulders still seemed burdened with all the cares he had borne since his recent exile. “How’s the weather there in Nambulay today?” He took a deep breath through his nose. “Sea air smells good.”

“So does your warm Corona air.” Behind him, Tala saw a distant light beaming from the square frame of a window’s sill. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried that he’d begun to approach civilization. “Storm’s coming sometime tonight. I can see it building off the shore. It should wash some of the dust from the air.”

“From your lips to Bhattara’s ear. Too much dust is bad for the crops. What did you bring me tonight? Supper for the locals was hours ago.”

Tala sang a note into each of her crystals to keep them vibrating, then pressed their stands into the sand and reached for an overloaded plate wrapped in a length of cheesecloth. She handed it through the portal. “Something special this time. I think you’ll recognize the handiwork.”

Bayan paused mid-sniff and eyed her with alarm. “You didn’t ask Philo to cook, did you? He’s really more of a connoisseur than a chef—”

“No, try again.” Tala pressed her lips together firmly to keep her smile at bay.

He breathed deeply of the warm aromas wafting through the cloth. “Ay, Bhattara, am I dreaming? This smells like my mother’s favorite feastday meal!”

Tala hunched in humble excitement. “I took the chance and introduced myself to her. Your family just got word of your exile—the emperor made sure of that—and I thought it might cheer you all up to share a home-cooked meal. Even if you can’t actually eat it at home.” Bayan hadn’t stopped staring at the plate in his hand.
No way am I telling him what I learned Imee and Dakila have set out to do. One of his closest friends trying to come to his rescue and dragging his new betrothed along—and
she’s
Bayan’s old lovemate? No. Bayan’s choices down in that cavern below campus doomed their venture before they even set out, and that plate’s heaped with enough guilt as it is.
“I … hope that was all right.”

“What? Oh, yes, no, thank you. That was kind.” He picked up the fork and stabbed at the heavily herbed bitter greens. Before stuffing them into his mouth, he asked, “Are things settling down for everyone?”

Tala tipped her head to the side. “A little. Everybody’s been jumping around like crickets on the hot sand, trying to figure out where all the pieces will fall now that Ignaas’s network is destroyed. Philo has managed to gather most of the fallen pieces so far, and I’ve seen him deep in conversation with the First Singer a few times.”

Bayan nodded thoughtfully, swallowed, took another large bite, and waved his fork at her in a gesture to continue.

She glanced behind her to make sure she was still alone. “The First Singer has had me deliver small messages to the emperor a few times. And every time I’ve waited in the anteroom for my audience with him, the place has been an absolute hive. Apparently, some of the nobility are finding fault with the emperor’s action against you. Support is gathering behind your hexmates as if they were folk heroes, and the emperor hasn’t been able to quash it. Your mother told me she’s been approached by an underground group of duelism families, advocating for change. What the emperor did to you, Bayan, it’s hurt him, too.”

By the time she finished speaking, Bayan had eaten over half of the pork and greens on his plate. “How fitting.”

It
is
fitting. Bayan saved his empire for him, and Jaap betrayed and exiled him for it.

Bayan continued, unaware of her bitter opinion, though she was certain he shared it. “A fitting farewell meal. Since I saw you last night, I’ve found somewhere to stay. A safe place, here in this
valio
. They’ll even give me a job. Most importantly, they’ll feed me regularly. You don’t have to keep bringing me food. I’ll start eating with my new friends tomorrow.”

New friends
. Bayan’s words bit harder than Tala expected them to. “I see. Are you sure you’ll be safe there? You’re about as much an outsider as anyone can be in the Corona, and from what I hear, even the Tuathi have more in common with them than Balangs like us.”

A broad, easy smile split Bayan’s sun-browned face, the first full grin she’d seen on him since before he’d done the unthinkable and been forced from the empire’s borders for it. “I’ll be in good company. It hasn’t been easy, deciding to walk away. But I can’t be the loyal dog who keeps returning to the master who beats him. I trust Bhattara, and I don’t trust Emperor Jaap. Not anymore. Please, don’t worry for me. Tell the others, when you see them, that I’m all right now. No rescue necessary.”

She bent and refreshed the notes in her crystals.
He’s not mourning for us anymore. So soon. The others—Calder and Kiwani especially—they’re still mourning for
him
. I can tell they’re jealous that I get to clap eyes on him, even briefly. But they can’t get away from campus even for a second, not with the way the headmaster is watching them. He’s still terrified they’ll blow each other up.
“A new home, then? Good for you.”

“It’s not good. It’s just necessary.”

The chill in his voice shot shivers up her spine despite the warmth of the sand and tropical breeze. “You know we’d smuggle you home in a heartbeat if we thought we could—”

His expression softened, and the corners of his eyebrows drooped. “I know. I’m sorry. But you can’t, and I won’t let you risk anything for me. I’m done with risk. I’m officially retired from duelism, thanks to the emperor’s unyielding rules.” He flipped open the cheesecloth, picked up a sliver of pork slathered in savory sauce, and popped it into his mouth. “Time for a new career.”

A bubble of wry amusement slipped past her lips. “I wish you more luck with it than you had with your first.”

“I don’t think there’s a third empire anywhere nearby for me to flee to if I completely fail here, so I hope you’re right.” He took another bite. “Mmm, this food is so full of memories. Do you ever wish you could go back and live your life differently? I’d stay forever in Balanganam if I could.”

If I’d done that, I’d never have met Bayan or his hexmates
. Her heart twisted at the thought. “I’ll stick to what I have. It’s what I know best.”

Bayan licked his thumb and regarded her with a fond tip of his head. “So wise. You’ll make a superb First Singer someday.”

Tala giggled with embarrassment, unable to picture herself wearing Liselot de Rosen’s long white robes, so heavily embroidered with gold symbols. “I’m not sure about that.”

“Well, either way, I’m glad to have met you.” He stood straighter, lifted his chin, and met her eyes. “And I’ll miss you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I wish you every happiness.” He held her gaze for a long moment. Then he nodded, smiled again, and turned to the side, vanishing out of portal view.

Moments later, the portal sprang shut, its sustaining notes depleted. Caught up in the farewell, Tala blinked in surprise at the sea view before her. Lightning flickered in the distance, closer than before, and a chill wind swept away the lazy warmth that had surrounded her. She needed to portal back to the Temple before she got soaked.

Yet she stared toward where Bayan had stood. “You’re welcome,” she murmured, picturing the guilt-stricken blond with the scarred cheek and the sassy, sarcastic streak who waited for her to visit his barracks room, to tell him once again that it wasn’t his fault that his best friend had been exiled forever. “But I didn’t do it for you.”

Other books

Yours All Along by Roni Loren
Promise Me Heaven by Connie Brockway
Misspent Youth by Peter F. Hamilton
Join by Steve Toutonghi
The Steal by Rachel Shteir
Ricochet (Locked & Loaded #1) by Heather C. Leigh