Hope (26 page)

"Oh, rank is suspended for the one day and it’s pretty anonymous. Everyone’s wings will be the same color. License to party." Elena laughed and started thrusting her hips towards the bathtub with a sponge in one hand and a bottle of cleaner in the other.

"So, everyone gets together without any identifying rank or wing color and has a big party?" Kathryn had a hard time believing the chain of command would be flung out the door for even a day.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Okay, so how do they get rid of rank and wing color?"

"Well, there are spells to temporarily change everyone’s wing color to the grey of a first cycle. Then we have the option to change our hair and eye color as well. You should do that with your coloring. Probably change your voice a little bit too. Oh, and make sure to keep your birth bane spell updated. We don’t want any little knights running around."

"Birth bane spell? That sounds handy." Beats popping a pill every day.

"You should already have it. It’s the same spell that keeps your menses from flowing every month."

Jackpot! "I demand to have that spell right now!"

The knights having a party. It just didn’t seem right. She couldn’t picture her fellow knights—some so stuffy they took offense if she removed her helmet—letting loose and flirting with each other without any armor at all. If only she had a video camera.

Lord Alextor chose to send three squads of knights to Hopent, hoping its residents were still alive. Kathryn once again flew in Derrek’s squad. Brownwing and graywing veterans replenished the squad that was now up to its former count of fifty knights. The newcomers treated her with courtesy, most likely because they heard the story of the so-called Red River Battle.

As they approached Hopent under the cover of twilight, they saw no sign of cook fires. They saw hundreds of dead bodies picked clean of all flesh and muscle. Only the bones remained with occasional tatters of clothing and shoes. They circled above the village, and then hovered over the local barracks—what was left of it.

Only a black outline remained on the ground of a 300-militia barracks. Fire had consumed it so thoroughly that there was nothing left—no rubble, no charred timbers, nothing. Kathryn hadn’t heard of this type of power in her reading beyond high-level fire spells.

While they scanned the remains of the building, Daemons rose from the trees. Sir Lanclor noticed their approach and ordered everyone into formation, preparing for battle. Sir Lanclor’s squad took the middle position while he held Derrek’s squad in reserve. Sir Lanclor ordered the third squad, led by Winstern with Kathryn's friend Datera toward the rear, to flank the Daemons once they were in range.

The Daemons, all drawing their weapons except for the one in the middle of the group, flew toward them. Sir Lanclor ordered the attack and Datera’s squad tried to flank them. The Daemon in the middle, seeing the threat of Datera’s squad, raised its arms, and the Daemons around it cleared a path. A stream of red fire shot from the Daemon’s midriff and consumed Datera’s squad in minutes. Their cries of agony were short as the extreme intensity of the fire killed them within seconds.

Sir Lanclor ordered a halt.
Lady Kathryn, shield spells, now!

F’enk’e’alath shel’an’re melan’keltoh sel’anthia
. She created her most powerful fire shield just as the Daemon turned its inferno their way. Luckily, the shield held although she felt the intensity of the fire draining it. The fire from the Daemon ceased before the shield gave way, and Sir Lanclor ordered the advance before the Daemon could recover its strength.

The Fire Daemon was the first to fall and the surrounding Daemons fell shortly thereafter. Kathryn felt selfish, silently thanking God that Hal hadn’t been in Datera’s squad. Hal had joined Hook to the West for a special assignment.

The Daemon fire had left nothing of Datera’s squad except for clumps of metal and bone. The blow to the Knighthood was significant with the loss of one full squad today and most of Derrek’s squad during the Red River Battle. The Daemon threat increased, while the knights’ numbers diminished.

Everyone, fall back to the castle
. Sir Lanclor ordered.

The loss of Hopent and the introduction of this new Daemon weapon darkened Kathryn’s spirits as they returned home. She remembered her time with Datera when she first joined his group to teach the first level spells. They hadn’t spent much time together after their acceptance into the knighthood, but they would still talk occasionally. Months had gone by without Kathryn saying anything to him, so caught up in her own problems she never thought to see how he was doing. She never appreciated people until they were gone.

A few days later, Kathryn allowed Hal to drag her to the market with his friend, Lesair. Kathryn couldn’t believe it, as she walked with Hal and Lesair, that the cloaked man looked like he actually thought he was inconspicuous. He pawed through a vendor’s wares, but the spell he used to eavesdrop on their conversation buzzed in her ears.

While Hal and Lesair’s discussion continued, she went through her mental list of shield spells in case the stranger decided to attack them. Armed with a long sword beneath his cloak, he made no move to draw it as they passed him, only turning so he could keep them in sight. She walked past a shop filled with woodcarvings and smiled. There was an entire section dedicated to mythical animals, or what she used to believe were mythical animals. Unicorns, dragons—or flying dogs as she thought of them—all were real on this world.

"Would you like to buy a carving, dearie?" asked the old woman in charge of the display.

"How much are they?" Kathryn received about five silvers per week with the Knighthood, a decent wage on this world. Since she never bought anything, she had quite a bit saved up.

"Two silvers apiece. I carved all of them myself. They each have their own unique powers bestowed upon them by a temple priest. I have one you might like better than any of these." She pulled out a winged horse about two inches tall in her gloved hand. A beautiful blue marble-like color with white swirls, its details were so perfect it seemed like it would fly off her hand. "I just finished this one this morning. Do you like it?"

"It’s beautiful. Only two silvers?" She nodded. "I’ll take it. Thank you."

She thanked Kathryn for the purchase, and then moved to the rear of the shop.
Kathryn walked to catch up with Hal and Lesair who had moved on to the next stall. Before she could reach them, the cloaked stranger walked beside her. Her hand instantly went to her sword hilt. She held off casting her shield spells.

"I was wondering when you would approach me," she told him to let him know she was aware of his presence before now.

He looked surprised, but quickly recovered. "I would suggest destroying your new purchase as quickly as possible. The poison from the blue paint is fatal if handled enough times. I’m surprised they used it since it’s pretty expensive and hard to come by. I’d like to know how you made such a powerful enemy."

"I’d like to know who you are and why you’re spying on us."

"My name is Drewton." He hesitated. "I’m a mercenary. They tried to hire me to take care of you, but I refused. It looks like they were sick of waiting for me to change my mind and hired someone else. I’m intrigued that someone so young and not even of this world would be a danger to them." Hal started to head toward them when he saw her companion. "I have no desire to face your friends right now. Know that I’ll be watching and am no danger to you or your friends. Guard yourself well." He turned and melted into the crowd.

Kathryn stood speechless, trying to process all that he had said. Without another thought, she tucked the winged horse into her leather pouch. Perhaps she could study it and find out more about her enemy. She’d wear gloves of course.

"Who was that guy?" Hal asked.

"A new friend, I think."

"Elena, who’s that?" Kathryn pointed to the large knight with black wavy hair curling just above his penetrating eyes. His chiseled jaw accentuated his muscular body restrained beneath a blue dress shirt and black slacks. They’d only been at the Ball of Remembrance for less than an hour when she saw him make eye contact and head their way.

"No real names. I’m Grace, remember? You don’t want to get involved with him. It’s political suicide."

Kathryn glanced away from him and glared at Elena. "I’m not involved in politics. I’m far from everyone’s dream girl. Besides, how do you even know who he is?"

"It’s a long story. If it’s just for tonight, then go ahead, but if you think you want to move beyond tonight, I don’t know if you can handle it." Elena’s eyebrows furrowed and she looked away. Turning back to his approach, Kathryn flashed an uncertain smile.

"Good afternoon. My name’s Matthis. May I get you a drink?"

"It's nice to meet you Matthis. I’m Hope and this is Grace." Kathryn gestured to the empty space beside her. "Um, looks like Grace went to get her own." She felt a slight blush color her cheeks.

"I’m acquainted with Grace. Come, let’s get something to drink and talk." Matthis offered her his arm.

"Thank you." Kathryn hesitated, took his arm then prayed she didn’t embarrass herself. She felt his bicep bulge beneath his shirt. The other men she had dated had nothing on this guy. They usually bulged around the middle and expected her to follow them like a puppy. Matthis walked at a pace that complemented her short stride.

"What would you like?" he asked with his mouth close to her ear after they reached the drink station. The number of conversations going on around them combined with the music of the band sounded like a flock of geese gathering in a field on their way south for the winter.

"Something fruity and not too strong." She had to speak with her mouth next to his ear as well. He had a faint smell of pine and cinnamon. So familiar, yet she couldn’t place it.

"Two Kalniel nectars please." The server handed each of them a short glass with a pink liquid that deepened to red at the bottom. "I think you’ll like it. It takes a few sips to get used to, and then you’ll be hooked."

They stood for a while drinking while they watched the dancers. The Kalniel nectar tasted like an Amaretto Sour. Matthis timed it so he finished his drink at the same time as she. He flashed her a smile, looking around the room after they placed the glasses on a passing waiter’s tray. "Do you have a preference on a place to talk?"

The ballroom was crowded with dancing couples and occupied tables. Many people stood in small groups laughing and drinking, oblivious to the loud conversations around them. Kathryn didn’t want to have a shouted conversation with this man.

"Is there any place a little quieter?" she shouted above the din.

"Follow me. Stay close."

She followed in his wake. He occasionally glanced back to make sure she kept up. The noise receded when they left the ballroom through the drapes of an open window and stepped out onto the large balcony overlooking the trees of the park. A handful of couples were scattered around the balcony and didn’t look up at the new addition.

Matthis continued to the farthest end of the balcony away from the other couples. The sunlight reflected off the small pond nestled within the copse of trees. She hadn’t even known it was there. The chirping of birds was the only sound beyond the soft murmuring of the other couples. They must have spelled the drapes to contain the sound of the ball.

"How’s this spot?" He gestured to the edge of the balcony with an unobscured view of the park between the armory and barracks.

"Nice. Peaceful. It was pretty loud in there." She took his offered hand and sat with him on the edge of the rail less balcony. Her fear of heights had withered when she got her wings. If she fell, she could just glide to safety.

"The Ball is always loud. Knights, Guardsmen and servants are equal tonight and all raise their voices to get each other’s attention."

Kathryn studied him out of the corner of her eye as he gazed out upon the landscape. His strong hands gripped his knees as his feet dangled over the edge. He had training scars on almost every knuckle. The width of his chest stretched the seams of his shirt and his pants didn’t hide much of what was underneath. Her cheeks colored and she chastised herself, focusing on the trees and pond.