Bastial Sentinels (The Rhythm of Rivalry: Book 5) (3 page)

“Jek!” Lisanda yelled, able to cry far louder than he could.

The other three Elves were hurrying forward to kill them.

“Fight it!” Micah screamed.

“How?” Jek barely managed to ask. In all their discussions of psyche, the King’s adviser had never taught him how to fight through the pain, only told him to block the spell with Sartious Energy.

“Move your mind—” Micah’s own scream interrupted him. “Think of…strongest…feeling.” Slowly Micah got to one knee. He tried to lift his arm toward the woman in chains.

“Impressive,” she muttered. Then she stomped her foot and thrust out her palms directly at him. He fell hard, writhing on the ground. “I’m sorry it has to come this.” Her voice was surprisingly sincere.

Jek couldn’t focus on any feeling but dread, knowing the Elven woman was approaching on one side and the Elven men on the other.

“Do something,” Jessend muttered weakly, not that Jek knew who she was speaking to.

To his surprise, Lisanda had made it to her knees, and now she was pushing herself upright.

The Elven woman blurted something in her own tongue. She looked shocked.

In the next instant, Lisanda was running forward, lowering her shoulder. With a grunt, she collided with the woman and knocked her flat. With her ankles and wrists bound, she struggled to get up. For just a moment, the spell of pain was broken. Unprepared, the Elven men had their swords pointed rather than their palms. Micah pained the three of them as guards jumped up and ran swords through their chests.

The Elven woman had Lisanda in pain once again. She was crawling on her knees toward the writhing Princess, pulling a dagger from her belt. Jek moved Sartious Energy between them, blocking the spell.

“Run, Lisanda,” he told her. But she already was up and moving.

Jessend stomped toward the old woman, drawing an arrow.

“Wait,” Micah told her. But it was too late. The arrow was flying toward its target. The old woman keeled over and died on the spot.

Jessend kicked her. “That’s for killing my father, you vile bitch.”

Lisanda threw her arms around her sister, and Vala embraced them both as they all wept.

“We must be going,” Micah urged gently.

But first Jek needed to know something that might save their lives again. He caught Lisanda’s eye and asked, “How did you break her spell?”

“I just did what Micah said. I thought about how much I care for each of you and how I didn’t want anyone else to die.”

Jek glared at Micah. “Why didn’t you do that?”

“You had as good an opportunity as I did, if not better,” the adviser retorted. “I couldn’t find anything stronger than that crone’s psychic pain.”

Before Jek could comprehend fully what Micah was saying, Vala turned and ran in the direction of the courtyard, her daughters’ hands in hers. “Hurry,” she called over her shoulder.

Down the next few halls all the doors were open, revealing signs of a struggle in each room. Chairs were flipped and curtains were ripped. Plates and cups lay broken on the floor, and food and wine stains were everywhere.
Soon the entire palace will look like this,
Jek thought.

They reached the last room before the bridge over the courtyard. Waiting to open the glass door, he cautiously approached one of the many tall windows that overlooked the courtyard. Thousands of prisoners were below, possibly the entire palace staff. Elves stood in front of each exit. Jek saw one move out of the way, allowing other Elves to drag in more men and women. Jessend came to look over his shoulder.

“What are the Elves doing with everyone?” Her voice, usually confident, cracked with worry.

“I don’t think they’re going to hurt them,” Jek said. “Otherwise they would have already.”

Jessend covered her mouth as she gasped. “Silvie’s there.”

“That means she won’t be leaving with us,” Jek said.

“Quiet!” someone screamed from below.

The murmurs died. Complete silence came over the courtyard as an Elf with gleaming hair came to the front of the stage. He stood there with purpose, as if the stage had been built for him. He wore an arrogant smile, and his eyes, as gray as his straight hair, glittered. Jek didn’t know much about Elves, and he couldn’t determine this one’s age, just that he looked rather young.

“I am Fatholl,” the Elf announced in an imperial tone, “and this palace now belongs to me.”

Jek turned and asked Micah, “Should we try to cross the bridge now?”

“Let’s wait to see what he says. It could be valuable.”

Everyone seemed to agree. Even Vala, with worry creasing her brow, couldn’t look away.

“Danvell Takary is dead.” A collective gasp broke the crowd’s silence. “And unless the rest of his army joins forces with us, they’ll perish as well.”

Despite the dire warning, Jek was enthralled by Fatholl’s words, spoken without a trace of an accent. Jek was too far away to be affected by psyche, but still the Elf’s presence commanded his attention. He needed to know more, eager to hear the Elf continue.

“This day will be written in history as the beginning of the end of the desmarls!” Fatholl boomed with pride. “For years we’ve trained, planned, recruited, and waited…fiercely hoping violence wouldn’t be necessary. But when the four kings went to war against each other once again instead of allying against the monsters taking over our continent, it was time for us to act.”

Fatholl paused to survey his audience. Jek and Jessend ducked out of sight below the window, then crawled back to the center of the room to listen with the others in their group.

“Many of you are curious.” Fatholl spoke now with an almost fatherly tone, as if the feelings of his prisoners mattered greatly to him. “You’re probably wondering if I’m the leader of the Elves, is that right?” He paused. “I must be right from the nods I see. I have no connection or allegiance to the Elves in Meritar. They don’t allow psyche, and they’d sooner see all of you eaten by desmarls than lift a finger to do anything about it. They exiled me many years ago. All the Elves you see now are those who’ve joined me in this quest. We’re here to protect you, your children, and your children’s children, along with our own. We’ve recruited many Humans, and soon more than half the continent will join us.”

Each time Fatholl stopped speaking, no one dared utter a word.

“All of you have the choice to stay and keep your jobs. You’ll be serving my army, and you’ll indirectly be assisting in killing the desmarls. You won’t be punished if you decide to leave, but you won’t be safe unless you join us. Only we know the true danger that’s coming to Goldram, Waywen, Zav, and Presoren. And only we know how to stop it. Your decision must be made now. If you stay here in the courtyard, then you’re offering your loyalty and service to me. If you leave, you’ll collect your belongings and exit the palace immediately.” His voice hardened. “Then you’ll live in fear as you watch the land become more dangerous. You’ll regret your decision and worry for your family’s safety. You’ll visit the palace and bow your head as you beg for your old job back. But my army won’t give you a second chance. We only accept those truly wishing for a better world, no one else. The four kings of the east had their chance to come together against the desmarls, but they chose poorly, and now they’ve fallen. Don’t make the same mistake.”

The courtyard buzzed.
All four kings are dead?
Jek peeked out the window to see Fatholl walk off the stage. He felt a soft hand wrap around his wrist and knew it to be Lisanda’s. She turned him toward her, and they embraced. The tightness in his chest loosened as she squeezed him fiercely. For a breath, all his worries were gone.

She kissed his cheek before she let go and whispered, “We must find a way out of here.”

“First we find Raymess,” Vala said.

“He’s probably already made it out.” Micah spoke firmly, as if ready to argue with the Queen if she opposed him. “The courtyard is a lot closer to an exit than the dining quarters, where we were.”

“What are you saying?” she asked.

“That we should leave instead of looking for him. The way out is just across this bridge over the courtyard, through a few halls, down some stairs, and then through the stables. It’s not safe for your daughters to stay here.”

Vala scowled and spoke through gritted teeth. “You think I don’t care about them?”

Micah pushed out his palms. “I know you do. I apologize, my queen. I didn’t mean anything by that.”

“Mother.” Jessend stepped between them. “Raymess is our king now; he can handle himself. I’m sure if he knew our situation he wouldn’t want us skulking around the palace looking for him.”

Defeated, Vala let out a long breath. She cautiously approached the window. “None of our staff is leaving the courtyard,” she muttered. “They’re staying to serve that monster.”

But Jek already had figured this would be the case. He stayed back, letting Jessend stand beside her mother for a look. “Even Silvie is still there!” she whispered furiously.

Micah put his hand on Vala’s shoulder. “We should be leaving. We’ll crawl across the bridge so as not to be seen.”

Vala took his hand off her shoulder and gripped it tightly between both her palms as she turned to face him. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you’re a psychic. We’ll be discussing this later.” Her tone was foreboding.

“Yes, my queen.” He spoke humbly but didn’t lower his head. Instead, his eyes were set on the exit.

Lisanda took Jek’s hand. “You already knew about Micah?”

“Is my face that revealing?” he asked, surprised.

“It is to me.” She frowned. “I didn’t think you would keep anything from me, especially something this important.”

Micah had the glass door open to the bridge, crouched and waiting.

“It wasn’t my choice,” Jek whispered.

His words didn’t seem to alleviate the disappointment on Lisanda’s crumpled face. She let go of his hand without a word and went toward Micah.

They crawled along the bridge, listening as the palace staff below roared with what sounded like nervous excitement, as if waiting for a shotmarl match to begin. It was an insult to the Takary family that they weren’t mourning the King. Jek wanted to stand up and berate them all, but of course he couldn’t.

He and the others stopped for a moment when they reached the next room safely. Micah gathered them in the center. “They must have guards at every exit. We should devise our battle strategy.”

“My daughters will not be fighting,” Vala said, and nobody argued, although Jessend looked like she wanted to. “Give your bow to one of these men,” her mother ordered her.

The Princess folded her arms, a stubborn expression on her face. But then her mother scowled, and Jessend’s arms dropped heavily to her sides. She removed the bow and quiver, and one of the seven guards accepted both. Jek knew none of their names.

Micah spoke with haste, devising a quick plan. When they were ready, Jek took the lead and slowly opened the creaking door. He peered out and found no one there.

They rushed down the halls, Jek putting up a Sartious shell before every turn. But all were empty. No one was waiting for them at the stairs, either, and they descended quickly in the eerie silence.

Soon they came to the stables. Jek cursed when he saw no less than twenty Elves huddled around the latched wooden gate at the other end. When they noticed Jek’s group, they simply stared.

“Hurry!” Micah ran to the nearby barn and threw open the door. They all chose a horse and rushed out.

To Jek’s surprise, the Elves hadn’t moved. But he and the others hurried to get on their mounts nonetheless. Perhaps their enemies were shocked to see them and hadn’t figured out what to do yet.

“How close do you need to be to shoot them?” Micah asked the guard with the bow.

“Fifty yards,” he replied. “But I certainly can’t kill them all before they reach us.”

“Then let’s ride to fifty yards out and see what they do. Stay close so Jek can guard us with Sartious Energy.” Micah turned to the Takary women. “If you have a chance to escape during the battle, do it. We’ll try to get the gate open.”

Jek looked at Lisanda. “Don’t worry about me. Save yourself.”

Her worried expression said nothing of whether she would leave without him.

Jek took to the front again and kicked his mount into a gallop. He could hear the rhythmic slapping of hoofs behind him as everyone followed. He watched the Elves carefully, wondering why they still hadn’t drawn their weapons.

Jek couldn’t believe his eyes when they turned and unlatched the gate. They parted, clearing plenty of space for the royal party to ride through. Many of the Elves even gestured toward the opening, as if presenting it.

Jek slowed his horse to a stop. They were nearing fifty yards from the Elves. “I don’t understand,” he said as everyone stopped with him. “What are they doing?”

“I don’t know.” Micah stared ominously ahead.

One of the Elves called out, “You may leave.”

Jek took in a breath to shout back, but Micah stuck out his hand to stop him. “Wait. This might be a trap. I don’t want to get in a conversation with them unless I’m close enough for psyche so I can determine their honesty. Let me go forward alone.”