Bastial Energy (28 page)

Cleve did know that, but he never would’ve thought to make the connection. He didn’t spend much time thinking about chemists. Welson paused for more wine, which he sucked down in a quick slurp to hurry back to the story. He seemed to enjoy telling it, holding a faint smile and using a loud voice. Cleve suspected there were many more details in the private history books of the castle that the King wasn’t sharing, though.

“That same year, Jinn Takary died mysteriously of heart failure, which was the first case of heart related death to be known within the Takary family. His son took over, believing the death of his father was an assassination through poison by someone within Kyrro who sided with Tenred. Against the advice of his council, he negated the treaty and tried to attack Tenred. He was easily defeated and reluctantly agreed to terms of peace again.

“By then it was clear there would be no hope of overcoming the great advantage Tenred had defensively, and there were far too many more in Kyrro for Tenred to ever take and hold any of our cities. There have been no more battles since then, but peace was never really reached. There have been many more deaths within Kyrro at the hands of Tenred spies, even within these castle walls since my coronation. It’s as if both sides have immunity from total annihilation, so there has been no end to the growth of hostility and covert operations to diminish power.”

“So why did they wait until now to disagree with the terms of the treaty?” Cleve asked.

“They’ve gained an extremely powerful army.” Welson sipped his wine. “I know,” he said the moment his swallow had finished, “how does one simply
gain
an army? It didn’t come from Kyrro, that’s for sure. These men have lived in Ovira well before we Humans came…I’m not sure if ‘men’ is even the right word. They’re called Krepps, somewhat intelligent creatures with scaly skin who stand taller than us, are stronger than us, and most importantly are thousands more than us. For reasons we haven’t yet determined, they’ve joined forces with Tenred.” He had a quick gulp from his cup. “We believe they may attack in the near future.”

“I have no problems shooting a Krepp that sides with our enemy.” Cleve had heard of Krepps from Terren but knew little of them. If they were to attack Kyrro, that’s all he would need to know.

“I’m thankful for your attitude, but remember you are to kill a psychic, and there are no psychics among the Krepps—no mages, chemists, or warriors, either. We have people here who know much about their race, and they have told me that the Krepps have no grasp on Bastial or Sartious Energy. They do fight like warriors, however, possessing great skill with swords and bows, even without the use of Bastial Energy. Your target is no Krepp, though. He has been seen meeting with the King of Tenred, Tegry Hiller, in Corin Forest. That is where you’ll go to find him.”

Cleve listened closely, knowing full well this was how he was about to be connected to everything. His nerves were on edge, making him feel like he was either about to explode or become overwhelmed with great relief.

“With war coming, the law against bows will have to be rescinded. As much as it’s an insult to me and to my father’s memory, protecting Kyrro is more important. Training will take some time. Meanwhile, you’re the only one with the skill to take him out from the necessary distance. But be aware, if you have any doubts about your ability to shoot him, I’ll find a way for him to be taken out through force, and many will die in the process. However, this would still be better than sending you if you cannot do it. A failed attempt would alert him of our plan, and he would retreat to Tenred castle. Surprise is our only advantage right now.”

“If it’s to protect Kyrro, I can do it. What does he look like?”

Welson had another gulp of wine, swishing it in his glass while his eyes steadied at Cleve’s feet. “I hate to command his death, but I have no choice.” The King finally answered, lifting his head to show his sadness. “He’s an Elf, one I’ve known for a long time.”

An Elf?
A wave of shock stormed through Cleve, tightening his throat so that he gagged. “Do you mean Rek?” he asked when he was capable of forcing out the words.

“So you’ve heard of him.”

Chapter 32: Decision

CLEVE

So much panic was coursing through Cleve, he could barely breathe.
How could a friend of my uncle’s wish destruction upon Kyrro and all its people?

“You’re certain Rek has sided with Tenred?” Cleve asked, fighting down the urge to retch.

“I’m certain of my decision, and it’s not your place to question it.” King Welson stood. “I just need to know whether you’re capable of this task. I’m not sure what you’ve heard about Rek, so tell me, are you having doubts now? If so, keep this in mind: If you don’t do this, you’ll be disobeying a direct order. I’ll charge you with possession of a bow, reneging on your admission contract to the Academy, and disobeying the King. You’ll be held in prison. If ever you were to be released, you would never be accepted back to the school and never recognized as a true warrior. While you’re in prison, I’ll find another way for the mission to be completed. I’ll protect Kyrro at all costs. No king before me has given up any land, and I’ll be no different, no matter how much more powerful the army of Krepps is. However, with Rek on their side, this war is lost before it begins. We have nothing to stop a force
that strong. This elimination needs to happen.”

What is Terren going to think of this?
Could his friend really be a traitor?
“I’ll do it,” Cleve answered reluctantly, as ten thoughts collided. It was the only answer he could give, so he found no reason in hesitating.

“I can hear the doubt in your voice even without my psychic.” King Welson spoke regretfully. “I need to know before you leave that you’re certain you can do this. You only need to be a hero for a moment to change the world forever. Be that hero.” His voice deepened and he closed his fists. “Give us the opportunity to win this war. Say what you’ll do.”

“I’ll kill Rek and bring you his head,” Cleve muttered, still overwhelmed by the flood of emotions he was feeling. Welson glanced at his psychic, who shook his head,
no
.

The King slammed his fist into his cupped hand. “It’s not genuine. You’re having doubts! You need to be certain, otherwise my guards will take you to the dungeons right now. What will you do?”

“I’ll kill him! I’ll kill Rek and bring you his head!” Cleve shouted. He felt anger boiling through his veins, but even with his rage he had no confidence behind his words.

Again, the psychic shook his head,
no
.

“Guards!” the King shouted. Two guards threw open the door and rushed into the room. “Take this young man to prison to grow old while everyone else fights the war for him.” They each grabbed one of his arms and began to pull him toward the door. They were close to his height, but older and less strong, he could feel it.

“Wait, I’ll do it!” Cleve shouted, but of course they didn’t obey him. “Stop, give me more time!” One of them hit him hard in the stomach to stop his resisting. A dull pain surged through him, but at least he still had his breath. His frustration took control. Only one thought was going through his head:
I just need one more try to convince him and without these guards jerking me away
.

He was nearly out of the room when he managed to tug his right arm free. He made a fist and slammed it into the other guard’s temple. The man stumbled and let loose his grip.

Cleve brought his right elbow back to slam into the stomach of the first guard and then used his newly freed left hand to follow with a straight punch to his forehead. The guard went down.

The other guard, still stumbling, drew his sword, but before he could get a firm hold on its handle, Cleve kicked the weapon. It flew across the room, too far to retrieve, so Cleve let it out of his mind. Another kick, this one between the legs, and the guard keeled over. Unsatisfied that the guard was still on his feet, Cleve followed with a fist that crunched into his cheekbone.

Cleve then heard the sound of metal behind him.
The other guard’s sword unsheathed
, he knew.
It worked the first time, so why not again?
He spun to kick his shoe into the steel coming toward him. It connected, protecting him from a stab, but this guard didn’t let the weapon fall from his grip. In a blink, Cleve focused Bastial Energy into his legs and leaped. He spun and extended a leg so that his heel connected with the guard’s cheek. Down the guard went, yet he still managed to hold on to the sword.

With both guards on the ground, Cleve had time to pry a sword from one of their hands. Although the guard nearest to Cleve seemed confused about where he was, he still seemed to know he was in a fight, making it quite difficult to steal his weapon. So Cleve stepped on the man’s wrist and tried once more. This time it was easy.

The King must have called for more guards without Cleve noticing because they began flooding into the room, each with a sword in hand.

“Wait!” Cleve shouted once more. “I’ll do it! I’ll do what you ask!” He held the sword at the lot of them as he backed away.

“Hold!” The King held a hand forward, and the guards stopped. “Tell me what you’ll do.”

In defeat, Cleve’s anger melted. A strong sadness squeezed his heart, for he knew he meant it. “I’ll kill Rek. I’ll bring you his head.” He had a strange feeling, like he was about to weep but couldn’t remember how. He didn’t even bother to look at the psychic’s reaction, knowing there would be a nod.

“Good,” the King replied. “Then it’s settled. You’ll carry the longbow concealed in a bag. A guard will escort you to the Fjallejon pathway and teach you the code for the Fjallejons. The pathway will take you through the mountains, and then Corin Forest will be to the east. There are hills you can use for cover as you wait for Rek to emerge from his cabin, which is right on the edge of the forest.” King Welson shooed away his psychic and the guards. The two on the ground picked themselves up and hobbled out of the room after the rest.

Cleve didn’t hear one word of whatever the King had just said. He was someplace else, somewhere deep within himself. Cleve didn’t realize he was still holding one of their swords until he noticed the King glaring at it. Cleve lowered it to his side, unsure what to do with it now. “You won’t need that tomorrow.” Welson pointed as he spoke. “If he gets within melee range, it’ll already be too late. It’s late in the night, and the trip is likely to take the day, so you’ll sleep here and leave with one of my guards at sunrise.”

If Cleve slept at all that night, he didn’t remember waking.

Chapter 33: Stuck

CLEVE

The next day, Cleve found himself thankful that the Academy was directly between Kyrro City and the Fjallejon pathway. It was comforting to walk through, bringing it back to his thoughts even if just for brief moments between stubborn despair. The strain of his task was heavy on his shoulders, constantly finding its way into his mind no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. Some part of him wished to see Reela as he walked through, but more of him hoped not. The guard wouldn’t allow him to speak to anyone anyway, so the situation would be only awkward and troubling.

Cleve had difficulty grasping the idea that he was to kill someone without giving his target a chance to fight.
This man is a friend of Terren’s,
and I need to sever his head?
He’d had to be sure he would do it when he’d told the psychic, but the doubts had returned as soon as he’d left the castle.

Could Terren know what was about to happen to his old friend?
Cleve couldn’t predict how his uncle would react after finding out. He ran through some scenarios in his mind: “
Cleve, you killed Rek, sliced his head from his neck, stuffed it in a bag, and brought it to the King? I understand you had to, and I forgive you.
”
No, Terren would never say that. “You killed Rek and severed his head? You’re evil! Your presence in this world serves no other purpose than to bring death and heartache to others! I should sneak poison into your water and rid this world of you!” No, Terren never would resort to poison when a quick swing of the sword would be all he’d need.

Cleve didn’t want to think about it anymore after that terrible thought.

The Fjallejon pathway was the only non-treacherous way through the mountains. The Academy was positioned so close to the pathway that the school would be the first line of defense if any army invaded from the north.

Standing at the beginning of the pathway now, Cleve saw it wasn’t a man-made road but merely a gap that dissected the steep mountains. The ground sank inward like a dried river.

Just before he entered, Welson’s guard stopped him. “The Fjallejons control these mountains and watch this one narrow road that passes through. They’re allied with Kyrro and report suspicious activity to the King via pigeons.”

“It’s nice to hear you say something besides a grunt or barking commands,” Cleve said facetiously, finding himself craving a conversation with Effie now more than ever to take his mind off the gravity of the situation.

“Pay attention!” The guard spoke with a bitter tone.

Cleve figured the guard was probably not pleased about escorting someone ten years younger than him to carry out a mission with an illegal weapon. He took a breath and waited for the guard to continue.