Wrath Games (27 page)

“Return to the dining hall and remember my warning about what will happen if you remain insubordinate. Based on your continuously impudent behavior, you must not realize how close I am to abandoning this little project with pyforial mages.”

“Yes, sire.” I bowed as low and humbly as I could without making a travesty out of it. He walked off before I was standing straight again.

When I returned to my seat, I apologized to Shara for running off.

“Was it about Swenn?” she guessed.

“It was.”

“He’s stuck to his word, though. No one’s bothered us. If he stays, I believe he’ll keep some distance. You should consider letting him be.”

I reminded myself she was saying these things because she was worried about me. “I can’t.”

“I wish you would try,” she whispered. “I don’t want to see anything happen to you.”

“It’s not a matter of trying. You’re asking me to do something I’m incapable of doing. He killed my mother, Shara. He killed Eizle and his squire. He would’ve killed Kayren. He needs to be stopped.”

She looked away from me, lowering her head as she ate quietly. We finished our meal before we spoke again.

“I haven’t seen Henry,” I commented.

“I heard he received permission from the king to leave the castle for some time.”

“I hope it’s not to do something for Swenn.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.”

I noticed Jaymes by the stairs. “I have to go,” I told Shara as I started to stand.

“Wait.” She tugged on my shirt, and I sat.

“What is it?”

“I once read something you should heed: Revenge is easy while forgiveness is difficult, but only one makes us into better people. Only one lets us live on with joy, without worry of retaliation or guilt. And only one can be chosen.”

I thought for a moment, then looked her square in the eyes. “I choose revenge, because forgiveness is not justice.”

Laney and I trained in the armory. I didn’t tell Jaymes about my new strategy for floating. I wouldn’t until I’d determined its practicability.

The commander demanded we push ourselves until Laney eventually sat down and claimed she couldn’t move any more energy.

Before Jaymes could yell, I ran over and lifted her, holding her up by her waist. I noticed with disappointment that she’d hardly begun to sweat.

“You’ve only just begun to exert yourself,” I told her.

She fought me to sink back to the ground while I kept her up. “I’m spent. I need a break.”

That couldn’t be true. “You have more strength than you realize. You just need to find it. Search, Laney. Push yourself. It’s the only way to improve.”

She took a few breaths. “I think you might be right.”

The way she found her footing and stepped out of my grasp with a straight back and a stern glare made her appear like a new woman. It occurred to me that it was possible no one had ever believed in her before. I thought of her sad tale about her family reporting her to guards and leaving her to rot in solitude. My childhood was hard, but that was only because Swenn made it so. At least I’d had my mother. Who did Laney have?

I wouldn’t let her give up. I just wished Jaymes felt the same way, as her fate was in his hands.

We trained hard for hours until the supper bell rang. Laney wasn’t sweating as much as I was, though I was still proud of the gleam to her forehead, her hair darkened around it. She panted as we walked out.

Suppertime reminded me that King Quince should be announcing his verdict at any moment. When I saw Shara, I felt the need to apologize, though I wasn’t sure what I was sorry about. I’d meant everything I’d told her.

There’d been distance growing between us, and surely the rules that prohibited intimacy were a big part of it. But our little arguments about Swenn hadn’t helped.

There were no seats open around her, so I ate beside Laney. It was amusing to watch how she’d hold the meat on her plate with pyforial energy while she cut it into manageable pieces before switching to her fork. I could understand why she’d found so much use for py. Cutting meat was surely only one of many tasks that were simple with two hands yet nearly impossible with one.

Looking around, I saw I wasn’t the only one hurrying to finish eating. What did everyone know that I didn’t? I would’ve asked Laney, but she hardly ever found out anything before I did.

“Eat quickly,” I advised her.

“Why?”

“Because everyone else is.”

It wasn’t long before the king was announced. Everyone stood, chewing, the unpleasant noise causing Quince to wrinkle his nose. A cacophony of forced swallows and stifled belches followed until silence came over the entire great hall.

The king warned us he was about to announce his verdict, giving us a moment longer to finish what we could before it was fed to the animals. Then, at the speed of a practiced routine, the tables were cleared until the room appeared as it did at night. Clear…too clear. The great hall became vast and wanting.

Hundreds of us huddled around the center as servants brought in the dais. Swenn had entered the room and now approached King Quince. He lowered his head as a guard nearby bound his wrists with manacles, a lovely sight I didn’t want to ever forget. Gram was next, the guard showing little care for his splinted finger as he quickly locked the manacles in place.

“Neeko,” Quince called out.

The smile dropped from my face as I noticed a third pair of shackles. I walked through the crowd and stepped onto the dais, the burn of all their eyes on my back. Would I ever become accustomed to the glimpses of so many at once? It felt like a hole was boring into me.

“Behave,” Quince muttered as his guard locked my wrists together. He turned and took his familiar formal stance, making his back rigid while gesturing for Gram to step forward.

I remained next to Swenn. Glancing over, I noticed he was no longer giddy or sleepy. The one eye I could see shifted to me. I waited for some clue to his thoughts, but he simply looked back out over the audience.

“This man,” Quince announced, lifting his arm toward Gram, “has chosen to hide behind fear and almost committed an illegal act because of it. But he did not break any laws of the kingdom. Therefore he will not be imprisoned.” A guard stepped forward and unlocked Gram’s manacles. “However,” Quince continued as Gram touched around his broken finger apprehensively, “he has dissolved the trust I have in him as an officer. He is to leave this castle forever, no longer a member of this army.”

“Sire, please.” But two guards grabbed Gram by the shoulders. He struggled, yet they easily overpowered him, pushing him around the crowd and toward the door. He looked back at his king, silently pleading. Quince paid him no mind, gesturing at Swenn next, who confidently stepped forward.

“This man,” Quince announced, “has broken no laws of the kingdom. He admits to theft, but the psychics have given us a rare glimpse at the truth of his intentions. He was trying to do good.”

The guards undid his shackles.
Gods, no.

“This man has told many tales. Some of which would have been apocryphal if not for the psychics. He is a smart man, and he has done excellent work as the master of coin. But he is also a cunning man.” Quince paused to study Swenn. “My father once told me that smart men can either be wise or cunning, depending on their scruples. I do not want a cunning man as my master of coin. I want a wise man. Therefore, Swenn Hamres is to leave this castle forever, no longer a member of this army.”

“I did nothing wrong!” Swenn fought against the guards who took his arms. “Get your hands off me before I break them!” He thrashed, his elbow driving into one man, who keeled over while the other let go to draw his sword. Soon both had their weapons pointed.

Swenn wasn’t afraid, glaring at the king as he yelled, “You must reconsider! I’ve saved you thousands of dalions already. You’ve admitted it. No one is as wise as I am with the money of the kingdom.”

“You mean cunning,” Quince corrected. “Another word and I will order your death.”

Swenn’s eyes became slits and he spoke no more. He let the guards take his arms, but then he pulled them toward me. To my surprise, he offered his hand.

Messily, we managed to shake despite my shackles. He leaned in and whispered, “Don’t think you’ve won.”

I felt nothing. I couldn’t even smile when they pushed him into the courtyard, never to step foot in the castle again.
At least not legally.
That was why his expulsion gave me no joy, I realized. Laws, rules—even dictated by the king—wouldn’t stop Swenn from carrying out his plans, whatever they may be.

My chest stirred as I wished the king would hurry with my sentencing. If I was allowed to stay, it needed to happen soon. I wanted a glimpse at the direction Swenn chose. I stepped forward to show I was ready.

“When I first met this young man, I could see the pain in his eyes and feel the hatred for evil in his heart. I believed him when he told me he strived to bring peace to this kingdom.” Quince looked at me firmly. “And this I still believe. The chaos you have caused will cease now that Swenn is gone.”

The fact that he addressed me directly caught me off guard.

“It will,” I promised.

“To those of you still concerned about this young man”—a guard unlocked my manacles as Quince spoke—“his loyalty has been tested, his morals have been scrutinized, and his training has indicated a set of abilities invaluable in this war. The next time a concern about Neeko burdens you, think about the thousands ready to burn our cities and kill your family and friends. Think about Neeko standing with our army against them. You have my promise that his control over pyforial energy will only be used for the North, and a king’s promise is as good as law.”

His quick speech elicited applause. I had little idea until then that some in the castle still were concerned about me.
People are naturally afraid of unknown power,
I reminded myself.
I shouldn’t have been surprised.

Quince shook my hand but leaned in to whisper like Swenn had. “If you make me into a fool, your punishment will be ten times the severity of the last two men who stood up here with you.”

“I will train hard and break no rules.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“And if Laney is sent back to prison, you will not interfere.”

No matter what I actually would do, there was only one thing I could say. “I promise that as well.”

The king left the dais to speak with Jaymes. Noticing the congregation dispersing, I took it as my chance to hurry up the stairs to the second floor. I ran until I reached a window I knew gave me a vantage point over the outer courtyard to the south as well as the city that stretched out from it.

Swenn had just mounted his horse. He gave the animal a swift kick to the side and off it galloped, speeding through the crowded street and nearly trampling those in his way. He certainly seemed to know where he was going.

Now if only I knew.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I returned to the armory and trained until my body was at the point of exhaustion. I didn’t want to think about Swenn because my only thoughts would be worries. There’s reason to worry when there’s something to solve or do. But I’d already considered my options after the trial. I couldn’t leave the castle until it was time to march to battle.

I spent hours controlling two clusters of py at once, proud of how quickly I was improving. It helped that I’d worked with py for the last eight years, making nothing I did in the armory feel completely new.

When I found myself yawning, I retired to my room. I glanced out my window and saw nothing but darkness.
When will this rain end?

A tempting thought came to me, and the more I thought about it, the more I began trying to convince myself not to do it. The struggle became harder as I paced and thought of Shara alone in her room. I wanted to stop this growing distance between us. The gesture I had in mind would help even if it didn’t quite work.

It was a bad idea, this I knew, but I still couldn’t convince myself not to do it. As a distraction, I picked up the book she’d gotten for me.
Pyforial Council of Quosae
, by Rin Teller. I opened to the first page and read, hoping the words could pull my interest. I skipped through the first chapter, which introduced the author and his sources, trusting Shara wouldn’t give me a book she thought to be inaccurate.

The second chapter did its task of distracting me. So did the third, then the fourth. What I read grabbed hold of my attention and refused to let go until my eyes struggled to stay open.

Everything in the book was based on accounts from men and women who’d been approached by someone recruiting for the Pyforial Council of Quosae. Each person had been given an alias to protect his or her identity, for each had at least some ability manipulating pyforial energy.

I became curious how PCQ members found these people, let alone the author, so I forced myself to stay awake and read the first chapter I’d skipped. Rin Teller theorized that members of PCQ have recruiters all over Sumar. They blend in with townspeople and constantly feel for pyforial energy usage. Teller found pyforial mages after word spread that he was writing a book about the PCQ and looking for anyone who might know something about it. Too intrigued to stop reading, I ended up staying up and finishing the entire book.

I discovered that when PCQ members approach people, they offer them the chance to ask one question, with the caveat that certain queries won’t be answered and they won’t get a chance to ask a second. It was through the answers to these questions and the short introductions the recruiters of PCQ provided that the book could exist.

There are many mountain ranges in Quosae and one of them is home to a group of powerful pyforial mages. It’s unknown how many there are, though their intentions are clear. They’ve charged themselves with watching over Sumar. When asked why, their answer is always the same. They have power, so it’s their responsibility.

That made me question my own motives. My first priority had always been making sure Swenn couldn’t harm anyone else. But he was only one man. How much damage was this war causing in comparison to him?