Curse of Stolen Flame (Firebird, #1)

CHAPTER 33

The War Chamber, a large, looming room on the first floor, was just as chaotic as the rest of the castle, so much so that hardly anybody spared them a second glance when they entered, even in their disheveled condition. Most didn't even seem to register Kindra as an unusual presence.

King Leofric was turned away from them, hunched over the giant table, which was littered with maps and scrolls, quills and ink pots, tiny figurines and strategy books.

The Council, as well as several others Kindra didn't recognize, were dispersed throughout the room. All looked to be in various states of alarm: some paced, some drank, some sat and drummed their fingers. Others were looking at the maps and books on the table as well, debating with each other about what to do.

Kindra had never entered a space so permeated with panic.

"We're here, Father," Antone announced, he and Sebastian moving to take position on either side of their father at the table. Jasper lingered further back, by Kindra. "We brought her , as you requested."

If Kindra weren't so beaten down by the day's events, she would have had something sharp to say in response to the ire in Antone's voice. But as it were, she merely dipped into a low curtsy as King Leofric turned around to face her.

He looked her over first, then Jasper. "I'm glad to see you are both safe," he said by way of greeting, and Kindra actually believed he meant it. "I want to hear what happened. Every last detail."

"Right, of course," Jasper replied quickly, already nervous and uncomfortable under his father's scrutiny. "Kindra saw more than me, so..."

"They had Shadowmasters," Kindra took over, sparing the whole room from more of Jasper's awkwardness. "The man at the firecracker cart—he was one."

"Are you sure?" Councilman Avis asked.

"Yes. I didn't see him use his powers, but—I saw him. After the explosion. And I followed him." Jasper stiffened beside her. She continued, ignoring his alarm. "He turned down an alley that was a dead end, but he vanished. There were no doorways, no walls he could've climbed. Just darkness." She paused, fear gripping her as she remembered what happened next. "And then she appeared."

"Who's she?" Avis pressed.

"Does... does the name Vylie sound familiar to any of you?"

The whole room went eerily silent. Then, somebody in the back said, "Vylie Inacorro is supposed to be dead."

"That's what Tess called her. I don't know anything else. But she seemed afraid of Tess. I thought—I thought she was going to kill me. If Tess hadn't shown up, I think she would have."

For a moment, she worried she'd just revealed that Tess had lied about something.Kindra recalled Tess and Vylie's conversation. Did Tess tell the Council that she'd successfully killed the Shadowmaster, whenever they'd last encountered each other? Had something happened after that to make them think she was dead?

"Are you sure?" Avis repeated. "Perhaps she was wrong—"

Kindra barely managed to reign in her annoyance. "I know what I heard and saw. The Shadowmaster responded to the name." Hesitantly, she added, "They seemed to have a history, of some kind."

Sebastian nodded thoughtfully. "Vylie Inacorro is a Shadow Assassin from the Keep up in the Dark Blade Mountains. Guardswoman Av— Orindyn —nearly caught her some years ago. We discovered she was responsible for the murder of a city official. Sent a squad after her. Tess was the only one who even stood a chance. And she almost had her. But Vylie had an accomplice we didn't know about, and they showed up just in time to blow the whole operation." He stroked his chin. "I bet that man from today was that accomplice. Reports said it was likely a male."

"So why did we think she was dead, if she got away?" Jasper dared to ask.

"Because two years ago, we received a report from Greymont that she had been apprehended in the middle of an assassination attempt on the Lord there. The attempt to detain her had turned nasty, and she was killed because, frankly, that was better than letting her escape again." Sebastian shook his head. "I don't get it. The report had been signed and sealed by the Greymont Council."

"Greymont is awfully close to the border with Laoruwen," Antone pointed out, looking equally flabbergasted. "Is it possible—"

"That Laoruwen spies infiltrated the Greymont Council and told us one of the most dangerous individuals to set foot in this kingdom was dead, all so they could use her to launch a terrorist attack?" King Leofric spat. "Yes, I think it's possible."

"No, I'm not so sure about that," a dark-skinned woman from the back of the room spoke up. She was dressed in light armor—a general, probably, her graying hair pulled back off her face in a tight, severe manner. "That kind of conspiracy would have been revealed by now. We've spoken to many officials in Greymont about it since—they all believed Inacorro to be dead."

"Then maybe they're all traitors! Maybe they're all spies!" the king seethed.

"Your Majesty," the woman replied, voice firm and even, "have a little more faith in your people, I beg you."

For a second, Kindra thought he might cross the room and hit her, though clearly the general did not share similar concern. Sure enough, he merely turned away from her, grumbling under his breath. People around the room began to talk amongst themselves, trying to come up with an explanation.

"Is it possible there was some sort of mix up, a confusion of some sort?" Jasper suggested.

Antone snorted, rolling his eyes. But Sebastian cocked his head, and Leofric regarded Jasper with curiosity.

"Go on," the king ordered.

"Well," Jasper stammered, finding his footing, "There's no really detailed drawings of Inacorro anywhere. She's a Shadow Assassin. The whole thing that makes them so deadly is their ability to vanish into nothing. Most people that see her clearly don't survive to talk about it. Even Tess couldn't describe her fully. She was half shadow the whole time they fought."

Sebastian was nodding, and that gave Jasper the courage to speak louder. "So what if they caught another Shadow Assassin? One who vaguely fit the already vague description the guards had: dark hair, pale skin, black eyes. They catch her. They kill her. The body was burned badly in the fight, if I remember the report correctly. They think it's Vylie Inacorro—maybe they want it to be her so badly they convince themselves that it is, because what a relief it would it be if it was? They send the report."

"You have to admit, Your Majesty," the general said drily, after a moment, "that sounds a lot more plausible than the entire governing body of Greymont being traitors." She dipped her head in acknowledgment to Jasper. "Smart thinking, Your Highness."

Jasper barely managed a nod back. He smiled, but quickly stifled it.

The conversation erupted then, everyone talking over each other. Though Jasper had satisfied the question surrounding Vylie, at least for the time being, there were still dozens of others: Who had claimed responsibility for the attack? What was being done in regard to security? What kind of statement would be put out to the citizens?Was this a declaration of war?

Kindra and Jasper drifted back to a table in the corner, where a forgotten plate of crackers, fruits, and cheeses sat. They settled into a pair of chairs. Suddenly famished, Kindra began to load a plate with food, Jasper following suit.

"You didn't tell me you went after the fucking guy," Jasper hissed.

Kindra shrugged. "You were unconscious under a table, so..."

He didn't have much to say to that. Quietly, they observed the meeting. Kindra focused intensely on the conversations around her, fighting her wandering thoughts. They kept straying back to her kiss with Jasper. And they kept getting more imaginative.

She still didn't feel that punch of regret like she'd expected to. It had seemed right to do it. Neither of them could have denied what they felt for each other after today. Fear had stripped them bare, exposed their feelings plainly for everyone to see.

She supposed it was better this way. Better to grow to love him, even if she forever hated the circumstances. Better that he was lovable, unlike Antone or Sebastian.

Nibbling on her food, she regarded the general. Hyra Lustris was her name, the highest-ranking general of the Alverinian army, below only Antone and Sebastian. She was a Bonescribe who'd climbed the ranks with her unmatched swordsmanship skills and strategic mind. It helped, of course, that her magic gifted her the ability to see into the future—though not with the specificity or clarity an Oracle often possessed.

Right now, she was using that gift to decide the next best move. Her eyes, usually a pretty but unmagical green, were clouded over with a milky white fog as she shuffled pieces of bone in her hand. She was about to attempt to scry.Kindra leaned in to see; she’d never seen a Bonescribe wield before.

The bones fell across the table, scattering across the map. The room seemed to hold its collective breath as her gaze cleared and she studied where they'd landed.

"Pryllia will not move yet," she declared, pointing to a sharp chunk that rested along the Pryllian border. "They are biding their time, enjoying our panic." Her calloused brown hand moved to another bone, one near the southwestern border. "Breyenth holds its breath as well. But Laoruwen..." She hovered over the third piece. Her eyes clouded again, brow furrowing. "It's strange. They know, more than the others, what is to come. But they do not have armies gathered, not where I can see."

"Is Vylie under their employ?" Antone asked gruffly. "Are they responsible for today's attack?"

"If they were responsible, we would know already," General Lustris responded. Her eyes narrowed. "If any of them were responsible, we would know."

"So what does that mean, then?" Antone sounded exasperated. Kindra couldn't quite blame him; Bonescribes had a reputation for being vague and cryptic, and now was not the time for such ambiguity.

"It means that you won't see any of these kingdoms step forward to take responsibility for today's attack, Your Highness," General Lustris replied, "Because none of them did it."

Silence, thick and heavy as a winter snow, fell over the room.

"Then who did?" Councilman Epira, distinguishable by the still-healing cut on his forehead, dared to ask.

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"Oh for Scaldor's sake," King Leofric snarled, his restraint all but snapping entirely, "What good are you if you don't know?"

"Even the most powerful of Oracles cannot divine every detail, and my gifts are far more limited, as you know," General Lustris replied, the words calm but sharply edged. It was likely she’d said those words a thousand times before.

She studied the map for a moment longer before stating, "These are my thoughts, based on what I can see: these kingdoms are, at the very least, loosely working together. They don't have much in common other than their hatred of us—a warning of mine that you all should have heeded." She swept a stony glare around the room.

She continued, "Laoruwen has some sort of connection to this attack. I'm not sure how, but I can say with solid certainty that they did not directly order it. My guess is whatever organization this is coming from is housed within their borders. Perhaps King and Queen Umberiki know, and have a relationship with whoever's responsible, or perhaps they are entirely in the dark." The general frowned. "Ora is hiding much from me,” she said quietly, frustrated with the goddess of truth.

The people in the room sat with General Lustris's words for a few moments.

King Leofric broke the silence. "I want our ships gathered in the harbor, and inspections done on all our defenses. Make sure the catapults are functional, and that the gates and walls are as reinforced as possible. Epira," he practically spat the name, "I want our Whisperers reporting daily. From every post. I don't care if they're not on a path an enemy army would take. I want to see every report. General Lustris will see them, too, as well as my sons." Jasper made a very soft noise of surprise.

"Clearly," the king declared, "We have been underestimating everyone, and we need to make up for it starting now. I want updated lists of every person in this kingdom who can fight, be it with magic or a sword. Start recruiting. We're not in need of a draft yet, but we need the people ready to fight at a moment's notice. Our army is spread too thin to handle this on its own, not if we are facing a joint attack from both the east and the west."

He sighed. "We have kept this under wraps for some time now, not wanting to stir panic. But panic has struck anyway. News of this attack will have reached even the farthest reaches of Alverin in a matter of days, of that we can be sure. We need to be ready to quell the fear that will follow with a show of strength and readiness. The people have long feared this day. We have long feared this day. Our arrogance has set us back in preparing us for what might be the greatest war of Alverin's history. We cannot let it be our downfall."

The king shook his head, anger contorting his face. "We were once hailed as the greatest kingdom in all Istreria. And we still are. These other kingdoms insult us with this trifling attempt to defeat us. We are Scaldor-blessed—the only kingdom on the continent who has ever received his favor. And the god of fire has continued to bless us in these troubling times." His gaze landed on Kindra. "He has brought us our cursebreaker, after all."

Kindra tried not to squirm in her seat. She held her head high because she knew it was what everyone in the room needed to see: a savior, a beacon of hope. But under the king's fierce stare, she felt a chill roll over her.That chill remained as the meeting came to an end, and she and Jasper left the room.

Perhaps, to another, the king's speech would have been heroic. It would have soothed their worried soul to see their King so confident in the face of such a threat.

But she recalled Jasper's words from before, how he'd said that his father had been waiting for this moment.

It was with those words in her head that she took one last look over her shoulder at the king. He wore a mask of stony determination, but Kindra saw through the cracks, however small they were.

She saw, just barely, the trace of his smile.