Arcane Enchantment (Unbreakable Force Book 2) (6 page)

17

Adaryn

“
W
e're close, I'm
so
excited,” Grace laughed, hanging off Bran’s arm as we walked.

It was barely mid-morning but the coolness from the night had dissipated, leaving the air hot and dry. I shifted my shoulders uncomfortably; already I could feel sweat under my shirt.

We turned a bend in the street and Grace gestured excitedly, practically hopping “There it is! The palace,” she squealed, and hurried faster than ever.

Bran came with Aaric and I today, and volunteered to take Grace, wanting to get a closer look at the king. I knew that once Luna took Aaric to the Guild, he would completely immerse himself in his studies, and so decided to come along with Bran and Grace. I began to regret my decision.

“Why are we in such a hurry, again?” I growled. “Your eye isn't
that
bad.”

Grace gave me a flat look. I suppose now that I looked at it more closely, her eye hadn't improved much in the past couple of days. Purple and yellow bruises surrounded it. At least the swelling had gone down.

Grace continued clinging on Bran's arm as they walked. It didn't seem to matter much to her that he was a nomad. Being handsome had its benefits when you were around Miss Grace. He’d better watch it though, or she'd have a collar around his neck.

“Let me explain it again,” Grace said with over-exaggerated patience. “On the last day of every month, King Matias allows the commoners to come and receive his blessing, and healing, if needed.”

I rolled my eyes. I very much doubted the king could do anything of the sort. Only a magic user would be able to heal an injury in an instant, and only a handful of nomads had the talent. 'Matias' was hardly a nomadic name, at any rate.

“Though I suppose I should thank you,” Grace said grudgingly. “I've never had the fortune of getting injured during my stays in Sen Altare and so have never seen the king. Not in person, anyway.”

I rolled my eyes. Who cared about meeting a king?

The castle was beautiful from afar, but it was even more impressive close-up. I couldn't see a single flaw in its white stone walls. In the sunlight, the gates shone in a myriad of color. I absently wondered what kind of metal they were as we went through them, surrounded by several other people, no doubt also here to gain the king's blessing.

My eyes widened with surprised delight as we found ourselves walking down a cobblestone path surrounded by a huge garden, filled with neatly trimmed bushes, slender, elegant trees and flowers of every kind. Most of them I didn't recognize. It was beautiful to me though, and if it weren't for Grace, I would have skipped the king entirely in favor of perusing the garden. However, chattering non-stop, Grace held my arm tightly as we walked down the path and into the castle.

The air inside the castle was cool. I breathed deeply, welcoming a reprieve from the hot air outside. The floors were cold under my soft shoes. Grace said they were made of marble. The other people who had come to see the king, seemed equally impressed, listening to their awed murmurs.

The walls were covered in an array of tapestries and the furniture had been polished to gleaming perfection. I glanced over at Bran, who was staring at our surroundings with equal wonder. Nomads could only imagine this kind of wealth.

Grace marched determinedly ahead, her eyes locked on the two servants standing up ahead. The servants motioned us to follow, and we were led through a doorway and down a few more hallways. The three of us had to stick close together to avoid getting lost in the crowd.

Several minutes later found us in a large, circular room, where we were formed into a long line. Those in front of us were sent in small numbers through a pair of large golden doors. There were several more guards here, trying to keep order as the crowd grew more excited.

I fidgeted with impatience as the time dragged on. I glanced over at Bran who was scanning the entire room and its occupants. Aside from his eyes and slight movement as he tilted his head he didn’t move. I couldn't imagine how he managed to be so still in such a noisy environment. My ears were buzzing with all the excited murmurs. I wished again that I had gone with Aaric.

After what felt like an eternity later, we were finally motioned through the large doors. The room we entered was even larger and more impressive than the one we had just spent forever in, but my attention was entirely focused on the man standing in the middle of the room. He was tall, with long, dark hair. He turned to study Bran and I, frowning slightly as if puzzled.

Grace rushed forward, leaving me and Bran behind. She curtsied, sweeping her skirts out to either side, her blonde curls tumbling about her shoulders perfectly. I hated those curls, self-consciously brushing my matted hair back from my face.

I wasn’t close enough to hear what they said to each other, but something Grace said made the man laugh. Still smiling, he stretched out an arm, laying a hand on Grace's forehead.

Bran and I started forward, meaning to catch up to the woman, and stopped simultaneously in shock. Magic radiated from the man standing before Grace. No one else in the room seemed to notice, and if they didn't wield magic themselves, how could they? The enchantment hit me like an invisible wall. Bran's eyes widened in incredulity. I doubt either of us had ever encountered such raw power.

On lifting his hand away, the feeling of enchantment ebbed and left. The king said something to Grace, who giggled and said something in response, before curtsying and turning away from him, toward us.

I followed Grace from the room, Bran trailing us like a shadow. We were sent out a smaller door and down a series of hallways before finding ourselves outside. Grace was walking more slowly now, her face practically glowing. “I think I'm in love with the man,” she said, clasping her hands together.

I snorted. “That's ridiculous,” I said. “Though I'll have no objections if this means you’ll keep your filthy hands away from Aaric.”

Grace sniffed in my direction and I noticed her black eye was gone. So King Matias really could heal.

“We need to get back,” Bran said, stepping forward to take the lead. “I don't know about you two ladies, but I could go for a decent meal about now.”

“Oh, let me show you,” Grace hurried forward to take Bran's arm. Was the woman really so fickle? “I know this most
fabulous
place to eat, nothing like those disgusting street vendors. My treat.”

I clenched my hands, infuriated with the woman's behavior, but turning a corner saw the garden again. It seemed to beckon to me with all its colors, scents and life. I glanced at the other two. Grace was still chattering to Bran, who, for a wonder, didn't seem to object to her company, even if she was an Oppressor. They wouldn't miss me, I decided, and quickly darted off the pathway and into the foliage.

I ducked behind some large bushes to avoid being seen by anyone else on the path, and then tiptoed further into the green wilderness. It was massive and it didn't take long before the sounds of footsteps and voices from the path were gone. Birds chirped and twittered from the treetops. I caught several flashes of bright plumage as they flew from tree to tree. I didn't recognize any of them except for the occasional finch or sparrow.

I found a small stream. It was astounding to me to find one in a city and drank from it deeply before stretching myself out under a large tree with enormous leaves. I thought about the king. What was a magic user doing here, and as king? The only magic users I knew of were nomads like myself.

It was cooler here in the garden than out in the city, but still warm. I felt my eyes grow heavy and, with my thoughts drifting, fell asleep.

18

Aaric

T
he Scholar's Guild was everything Aaric could possibly hope for. While the exterior looked less than impressive, the inside was a glorious sprawl of books, scrolls, tools, maps and contraptions. He didn't know where to look first. Luna strode ahead of him with purpose, ignoring all the paraphernalia around her. Likely she was used to it, Aaric supposed. It was like his father's study, times one thousand.

The interior seemed to go on forever, and with their path taking them on a decline, Aaric suspected it might even go underground.

“What is the purpose of this place, Luna?” He had tried to call her Ms. Flores, but the woman insisted on being called by her first name.

Luna shot him a sideways look, perplexed. “The purpose of this place is to seek knowledge, of course,” she said. “Without knowledge, humans would remain in a state of ignorance, unable to progress as individuals or as a society. Knowledge makes us who we are.”

Aaric nodded in silent agreement as they continued. He caught sight of several people as they walked. He was startled to see almost as many women as men, hunched over papers or personal experiments. No one so much as glanced his way.

“Here we are,” Luna said, stopping before two iron-bound doors. A boy was seated on a stool outside of them, his nose in a well-worn book. He looked up.

“Can I help you?” he asked. His eyes flickered down to the pages again, reluctant to stop reading.

Luna snorted. “Open the doors, you dull witted whippersnapper, before I beat you over the head with your own book.”

The boy's eyes snapped up to look at the old woman, and his freckled face split in a grin. “Long time since you've been here, Luna,” he said amiably. “How are you doing?”

“I'll be doing better when you open the doors.” Luna tried to look stern, but the corners of her lips twitched, ruining the effect. She patted the boy on the shoulder. “How's your mother doing, Thomas?”

“Better, thanks to the medicine.” Thomas pulled a series of levers, Aaric watching curiously. They were pulled out of order, making him wonder if it were a puzzle of sorts.

With a loud clicking and whirring, the doors opened with a screech. Luna brushed by, motioning to Aaric to follow.

What met his gaze astounded Aaric. It was like stepping into the city library at Ruis. Books and scrolls lined the shelves from floor to ceiling, stuffed to bursting. He turned, bewildered, to Luna. “We're supposed to find information about the sky jewel here?”

Luna clucked her tongue. “That's why I'm here, lad.” She hustled over to the far side of the room, walking down a few aisles and a couple over. Glancing at the shelves as he passed, Aaric didn't see any particular order to anything, but the woman seemed far from lost, and was pulling a file from a shelf after just a few short minutes. She walked over to a table, putting it down, and then took a seat. Aaric sat across from her.

Luna pushed the file over to him, brushing some wayward strands of graying hair out of her face. “This contains everything we were able to discover about the sky jewel.”

“Thank you.” Aaric looked down at it. The file was smaller than he had anticipated, but even if it contained more than the scant bits he had read in his father's notes and what Oisin had told him, he'd be farther ahead than where he was now. He opened the file and began to read.

19

Adaryn

I
woke to the sound of voices. Keeping my head still, I glanced up through the trees. Night had fallen. I needed to get back; Aaric would be worried sick.

The voices came closer. They sounded hushed, and were quiet enough that I couldn't make out what they were saying. I saw some dark figures move by, several paces away. They didn't see me, and within moments were gone. I stood, and quietly made my way after them. Despite having wandered throughout the garden earlier, I couldn't remember which way was out. Everything looked different at night. Perhaps the people ahead would be able to show me the way.

The garden was filled with the scent of night flowers and the sound of nightingales. If I wasn't in such a hurry to leave I would have preferred to stop and walk at my leisure. I kept thinking of Aaric though and that spurred me on. I could only imagine how upset he must be.

After several minutes of walking, I frowned, frustrated. The cloaked strangers moved quicker than I had thought, and I couldn't find them. I looked over to my side, and saw a tall brick wall, overrun with ivy. I hurried over to it and started climbing, hoping the height would help me find my bearings.

I looked down on the other side, and saw a tall man strolling through the garden, clad in a white, hooded robe. He was alone. I was thinking he looked familiar when he stopped walking, turning his head to peer upward in my direction. I frowned. I’d been silent. Did he know I was hidden up here?

I didn’t have time to dwell on the matter. Several dark clad figures burst out of the foliage, surrounding him. They were armed, and began advancing on him. “Surrender, Matias, and you won't be harmed,” one of the black-cloaked figures said. He raised a sword.

It was a tactic often used in Ruis. The Oppressors would surround the outnumbered nomad and close in.

I didn't think before reacting to the scene below me. I leapt from the top of the wall, landing next to the ambushed man. Pain shot up my leg but I pushed it away. I needed to help this man.
The king,
I thought distractedly. I summoned magic and held two glowing orbs of blue fire in my hands, ignoring the gasps of surprise from Matias' attackers. I lunged at the man holding the sword and he moved back, clearly reluctant to fight me.

“He was supposed to be alone!” one of the others cried out.

In one swift, silent movement, Matias moved past me and, dodging the sword, broke the man's neck using only his hands. I cringed, hearing the snap of bone. Just as quickly, the other attackers melted into the shadows and were gone.

I blinked, staring down at the dead man. His sword had been useless. Events moved so suddenly. I glanced up at Matias, suddenly feeling unsure of my safety, but the man merely looked down at me. His white hood was thrown back, exposing his face. In the firelight I still held, I was able to get a good look at him. He looked to be maybe middle-aged. His skin was pale, his hair jet-black, ending a little below his shoulders. He had a long, straight nose and firm chin. His eyes were an intense blue, as blue as my own. He smiled, stepping closer.

“And to whom do I owe my thanks?” He had a deep, almost musical voice. “You came hurtling out of nowhere, your claws bared like a sand cat.” He laughed, clearly amused.

“Adaryn.” My name came out before I could call it back. I bit my lip, wishing I had given him a fake name, as I didn’t know him yet.

“Adaryn.” He repeated my name, his face thoughtful. “And you use magic.”

“You wield enchantment, too.”

Matias smiled. “Yes. I don’t make a point of telling everyone, but it’s not easy to hide the ability from another magic user.”

“Who were they?” I asked. “Those men?”

“I do not know.” Matias frowned, thinking. “I suspect some of the commoner’s are upset with the turbulent times, such as they are, but this is the first time I’ve been ambushed.”

“We should alert your men. Your attackers may come back.” I started to walk forward and winced. I sprained my leg when I jumped from the wall.

“You’re hurt.” King Matias came forward, and knelt down to get a closer look. “May I?”

I shrugged, lifting my skirt a little so he could get a better look at my ankle. “It’s just a little sore,” I said dismissively.

“It will swell if not treated,” he said simply. He seized the magic, and started to weave it around my ankle.

“
Wait,
” I said, almost desperately, and blushed when he looked at me questioningly. “Could—could you show me? How to heal, I mean?”

He smiled, still holding the weaves of enchantment. “Certainly.”

“Weave it . . . like so.” Matias held the magic, deftly working its strands around my ankle. I could see them, but the pattern he wove was extremely complex. I summoned my own magic and, tongue sticking out with the effort, tried to mimic his magic.

Within moments I had tangled my strands hopelessly, the magic winking out of existence.

“Blast it!” I muttered, and Matias laughed. He set the magic and a cooling sensation entered my ankle, replacing the pain before it dissipated completely.

“Thank you,” I said. “For healing my leg. And for trying to teach me. We don’t have any healers in our clan, so I was hoping I’d be smart enough to learn it.”

He looked at me a moment before saying quietly, “I would have been astounded if you had gotten it on your first try. You did very well.” He studied me a moment, his head cocked to one side. “Would you like me to teach you? Give you lessons, I mean.”

I stared at him, flabbergasted. “Oh, no. I mean, yes! That is . . . I couldn’t impose on you . . . Your Majesty.” I added the last part belatedly, but Matias didn’t seem to notice.

“I offered,” he said simply. “It’s not imposing. Besides,” he added with a rueful smile, “you’re the only other magic user here, as far as I’m aware. It’d be nice to talk magic with someone who actually understands it. None of my wi—” he cut off with a grimace and spoke again, “—no one else in the palace can wield it.”

“That would be amazing.” I smiled at him, feeling a surge of excitement. With Aaric’s and my future so uncertain, I needed every scrap of magical knowledge I could get.