Broken (44 page)

Octavion glanced down at his sister’s body. He’d spent all these years hating her, but the sight of his own flesh and blood lying dead before him took a toll on his emotions. He knelt on one knee to get a better view.

He looked at the position of her body and the lack of blood on her skin. That, and the sleeve of Kira’s shirt, was evidence enough to know that she’d been treated with respect, even after her death. That Kira would take the time to lovingly tend to her appearance so her family wouldn’t have to see her in such a way, made him love her even more. He took solace in knowing her last moments were spent with Kira.

As he stood, the wind shifted slightly. A sudden burst of air hit his senses, burning his eyes and throat. The muscles in his back swelled to their full capacity and he turned to Luka and Cade to find them reacting in the same way. Blood—two scents were unfamiliar, but the other belonged unmistakably to Kira.

In full transformation, the gifts of each Royal were enhanced. With the swiftness and agility to run at speeds far beyond any animal it took only seconds to come on the scene. In the center of the road lay the lifeless body of a Royal, an arrow piercing his chest. Several feet away, the unfamiliar footprints of a man mingled with a fresh puddle of Kira’s blood—streaks and smaller drops led off into the forest. They followed them into the trees until they came to a small clearing. There was blood everywhere, but no bodies.

“Kira!” Octavion called. His voice echoed through the trees, but no answer came.

“Luka, circle around the perimeter,” Octavion ordered. “See if you can pick up her tracks leaving the clearing.”

Cade was already mapping her every move. His natural instinct to track sent him darting from one side of the clearing to the other. Octavion circled around in the opposite direction he’d sent Luka, only to meet up with him—neither having found any sign of her.

They tried to stay out of Cade’s way; their interference would spoil the trail and muddle his senses. From where he watched, Octavion could see bits and pieces of evidence that gave him little hope. White pieces of shredded fabric similar to her sleeve were scattered about and covered in blood. A dagger lay in the dirt on one side of the clearing near a pine tree, also stained with her blood. Even in the dark he recognized the hair stuck in the bark of a tree to be Kira’s. His mind played out the scene in his head—at some point during the scuffle, her attacker had slammed her head against that tree.

Octavion called out her name again, but the only response was his own voice reverberating in the distance. Where was she? “Cade,” he said in desperation.

Cade held his hand up to signal for silence.

Octavion, have you found her?
King Belesgar’s voice startled him.

No, father. We have sign she is injured. Cade is reading the field now. Is all well there?

But you have found no body?
His thoughts seemed disheartened.

Father, what is it? Have you news?

The silence spoke clearly to Octavion’s fears. He turned to question Luka, to see if he’d received similar enquiries from Nestor, but the furrow in his brow answered before Octavion could utter the words. He grabbed Luka’s arm to get his attention, but he averted his eyes.

“Luka, what have they found?”

Another moment passed as Octavion watched the expression on Luka’s face turn from shock to horror. When Luka finally turned toward him, Octavion could see it in his eyes. Kira was dead.

Octavion released his grip and stepped back. “Where is she?”

“I do not know.” Luka paused for a moment, looking at Cade, who now stood in the middle of the clearing, his attention on them. “A rumor has come from the village. It seems King Tyrious is bragging about avenging his son’s death.” He put his hand on Octavion’s shoulder, but he jerked away.

“Where is she?” Octavion demanded.

Luka shook his head. “They did not say. But . . . they claim to have proof of death.”

Octavion could feel himself losing control. Where first he needed to find her, now he craved revenge. Luka grabbed his arm on one side and Cade appeared at the other, holding him against a tree.

“They are wrong, Octavion. The signs tell a different story.” Cade’s eyes held truth in them, but did little to dilute the fury building in Octavion’s heart. “Let me explain before you wage war on Kazedon. If I am wrong, I will fight by your side.”

“As will I,” Luka said. “Now breathe, you need to have your wits about you. We must know the facts of this before we give up all hope.”

“Show me,” Octavion ordered.

Cade walked them through his version of what happened. After being pulled from Althros, Kira had been dragged from the road, and thrown to the ground, but the Royal had not killed her there.

“Althros?” Octavion asked. “How can you be sure?”

“Because I have chased him down after getting out of the stables. One of his shoes has a bent nail, see?” Cade pointed to the print in the dirt. “She must have conned the stablemen into giving her a horse.”

“Althros is not a horse, he’s a beast.” The thought of Kira even getting close to the animal made his gut twist into a knot. “Continue.”

“Like I said, he did not kill her here. I have seen Royals do this when they hunt for sport and not to satisfy their cravings. He played with her, like a cat plays with a mouse.” Cade pointed to several spots where Kira had been tossed and dragged. “And then there is this. He pointed to the tree with Kira’s hair caught in the bark. “She was thrown against this tree. The Royal came at her, but then he stumbled back into the dirt. He lay flat on his back, not struggling or moving while she got up and walked to his side.”

They all walked to where Cade showed the Royal’s markings in the dirt. “And this is where it gets strange,” Cade said. “Kira takes four steps toward the trees and then—” He paused for a moment. “Octavion, I need some light. Can you still charm a stone?”

Octavion took a deep breath. “I think so. It has been a long time, but I will try.” He traveled with his mind to the edge of the forest where he’d seen a deposit of moonstone a few days before. He searched the ground for two stones and returned to where he’d left his cousins. Clenching the stones tightly in his fists, he summoned the powers of the moon through his gift as a Jayde. His hands trembled as the moon’s light gathered around him and filtered through his fingers and into the stones. He opened his palms and held the stones out for Cade to take.

“Will that do?” he asked.

“Perfect,” Cade said. “Nice to see you have not lost your touch.” He held the stones close to the ground, sweeping them from side to side to illuminate the tracks in the dirt.

Octavion didn’t watch the ground, but Cade’s face. His expression seemed to shift from that of a focused tracker to shock, then fear. When he froze, the stones illuminating a single footprint and gasped, Octavion stepped closer and crouched near him to get a better look. Luka did the same.

“What do you see?” Octavion asked.

“Brother,” Cade said. “Tell me I am wrong.”

Luka leaned close and examined the footprint, the color washing from his face. “Nigel.”

“What?” Octavion blurted. “Nigel was here?” He pressed his fingertips to his forehead and tried to summon the Darkord with his thoughts, but got no answer. “Are you sure?”

“Not for sure, but . . .” He took another look at the print. “It’s this little imperfection at the heel. See how it looks like a piece is missing from the sole of his boot? Nigel’s print looks similar. I remember seeing it in the clearing the night I guarded the girls.”

“You mean the night you fell asleep and let him touch Kira.” Octavion stood and began pacing, marring the scene. He’d been right about Nigel. Kira hadn’t accidently bumped into him, he’d been stalking her, waiting for the right moment to strike.

“Octavion! You are walking all over the signs,” Cade yelled.

Octavion stopped. “Does he have her?”

Cade stood and glanced around the clearing as if going through the battle scene in his head again. “I do not know. There is only one print. And Kira’s prints stop and go nowhere.”

“What do you mean?” Octavion asked. “Did Nigel or the Royal take her at that point?”

“Not the Royal. He rolled in the other direction, stood and walked five steps before his foot prints stop. I assume he vanished at that point. His prints show no additional weight, so he left alone. There was no further confrontation. She did not die here.”

“Could Nigel have taken her?” Octavion asked.

Luka grabbed one of the moonstones from Cade and searched the scene himself. “I do not think so. He has not been a Darkord long, but could barely transport himself. He did not have the strength to take his brother to where we stepped through the portal—I had to help him. By now he could have lost his gift altogether.”

“But Kira is much smaller,” Octavion said. “Could he have taken her?”

Luka paused for a moment, as if considering Octavion’s question. “Not likely, but—I still cannot fathom Nigel being involved in this.”

“He was in the village two days ago, following Kira,” Octavion said. “That is reason enough for me.”

“Perhaps we should start with Kazedon,” Cade said. “They claim to have proof of death. We should see exactly what they have, then go from there. Maybe the Royal who escaped can give us some answers. You will know if he lies.”

“I agree,” Luka said. “I want to see their proof with my own eyes.”

Octavion thought about that for a moment. If Nigel had her, then she could still be alive—at least for the moment. He needed to believe that if he’d saved her life once, he’d not harm her now.

But if Kira was indeed dead, there was nothing they could do to help her. And if she were held captive by Kazedon, Octavion would have to plan their attack carefully so she would not be harmed. Luka was right. He had to see this proof of death first. Then he would know what must be done.

“Luka, I want you to go to my lair. Gather our weapons and ask my father to meet me in the grand hall. Cade, there are two tiger cubs wandering near where we found Shandira. They are without a mother. Find them and bring them back to the castle. Altaria will know what to do with them.”

“You are not going there alone, Octavion,” Cade said. “We are not leaving until we have your word.”

“You have it. There is another task that lies before me. I must take my sister home to her father.”

Under advisement from both Belesgar and Nestor, Octavion decided to ask permission to enter at the main gate. He requested another meeting with the king under the pretense of viewing his proof. It was understood that they came in peace and that what they sought was merely a formality—a necessity to prevent any further bloodshed. Surprising to them, he agreed. Octavion believed King Tyrious simply wanted to gloat.

When they entered the castle they were met by the same Royal guards who had escorted Luka and Octavion on their last visit—and about a dozen more. King Tyrious had sired only one heir, but he had many brothers who had many sons. They were not lacking in their Royal strength, as was Xantara.

Octavion had never before seen such a flamboyant display of conceit as he strode down the long grand hall. Gold statues lined the room on both sides—most of them resembling the king—and everything in the room was either covered in gold, gems or both. When his reflection caught the light from several large torches positioned around the perimeter, it almost blinded him.

At the far end of the room sat King Tyrious, perched on a grand gold and gem-encrusted throne raised from the floor by several steps. Upon his head sat an equally opulent crown, slightly askew atop his bald head.

“What is it you seek?” he asked as they approached.

The guards stepped in front of Cade and Luka, preventing them from going any further, though Octavion was allowed to continue. As he reached the bottom of the first step, King Tyrious held up his hand, signaling that Octavion had come close enough.

Reluctant to show respect, Octavion cringed as he knelt on one knee and bowed his head. “We come in peace, King Tyrious.” Octavion raised his head to find the king’s eyes watching him intently. Octavion could see fear in them and it surprised him. “We hear you hold proof of your son’s avengement and we desire to see it with our own eyes.”

Tyrious’ focus shifted behind Octavion and then to his side. He motioned with his hand, sending a young boy scurrying behind a large curtain at the side of the room.

“I trust this proof will end your enquiries on this subject,” Tyrious said.

“It will,” Octavion lied.

Tyrious gestured again, this time giving Octavion permission to stand. “Then I shall allow you to see it.”

Octavion’s imagination had run wild with what the proof might be—of everything from her severed head to her lifeless heart presented on a platter. The images in his head caused bile to rise in his throat. He swallowed hard to avoid showing the kingdom of Kazedon any weakness.

When the curtain parted, and the young boy came out holding something wrapped in a bloody piece of fabric, the muscles in Octavion’s back twitched and he stopped breathing. He could hear Luka and Cade trying to convince the guards that it was just as important for them to view the evidence, finally persuading them to allow them through. As they took their place by his side, their thoughts tried to comfort him, but he gave no response. He focused on one thing—the proof held by a young boy that could cut him in two.