Of Silver and Beasts (5 page)

Madness
.

Dark goddess
.

Carina’s words echo through my mind as I block a blow from Willa. I’m distracted, and Willa is a vicious opponent when I’m at my best.

“Kal, you’re not even trying.” She swats my butt with her blade.

Rebounding with a lunge, I laugh. “I’m taking it easy on you after the last time. I have pity.” I send my blade toward her midsection and she blocks easily.

“Enough,” she says, and tucks her sword under her sleeved arm to wipe her brow. “Do some of your leader duties or something. I’ll pair off with Lilly.” She glances over to where Lilly rests on the sideline, then back at me. “You obviously can’t handle my skills today.” She winks and lops off toward the back of the training room.

I part my lips to unleash a comeback, but then snap them closed.
What are my leader duties
?

With the full moon only being days away, my senses are on high alert, and I wish Carina would answer that question for me. I want to know what else the retired leader knows about the Otherworlders. She must understand more about them than anyone else I’ve talked to, and she knows more than she’s admitted. Only she obviously thinks I’m ill prepared to handle it.

Lilly shielded me from a lot of the gossip about the bottom-dwellers during protector training. She’s always been protective, and didn’t want me to hear the whisperings about madness after what happened to my father. But I’m older and stronger now. And really, I don’t have a choice. If I’m to lead the Nactue, I need to know our enemy.

The double doors swing open with a creak and Carina steps through. She clears her throat, and I slink my way to the row of protectors forming in the center of the room, nod once to her, and take my place among my sisters.

I’m the new leader, yet Carina makes me feel like I’m lacking in my role, giving instructions to the Nactue as if I’m an afterthought. Ignoring my presence. It’s infuriating, but in a way that I’m embarrassed to admit aloud, I’m grateful. Am I prepared to lead the Nactue into battle? I’m unsure, though I’ll try my hardest during training today to prove I’m at least worthy of the title.

“There has been no report from Perinya’s liaison,” Carina says, walking to stand before us. “Which could mean he’s been silenced. Either killed or abducted.” Her eyebrows pinch, and she swipes her long ponytail from her shoulder, pulling herself up straight. “Perinya’s communications were shut down during the attack. We’re in the dark with no way to know what transpired there until our convoy reaches their realm and reports back. And with their kingdom recently suffering the loss of their king, they’re an open target for a full attack.”

Lilly hesitantly steps forward, but forces her voice strong. “Will they report back before the end of the week?”

She’s thinking the same as me. We’re both worried about the full moon—that there will be an attack on Cavan, on the empress, before we even know what we’re up against.

Carina nods. “They were sent only yesterday. But they’ll reach Perinya within two days, then send back a message. Four days.” She begins to pace. “So, we have four days to get the new Nactue ready for their duties and ready to protect the empress.” She stops, turns to face us. “Are you ready to meet that challenge, Nactue?”

“Yes!” we shout in unison.

“Good,” she says, then looks to me. “Kaliope. Join me for a walk.”

I take a quick glance around the room, meet Lilly’s curious eyes briefly, then follow Carina through the double doors and out into the courtyard.

The scent of jasmine and oleander rushes my senses, and I breathe in their calm. Blue-feathered finches with yellow bellies hop along the branches of Black Tulip trees, knocking their pink petals to the lush grass. Other birds I can’t name dive toward a fountain in the center of the yard. Its glittering water cascades down a stone carving of the goddess Monique. And the white stone walls of the palace surround us, engulfing us in peace and tranquility.

It’s such a sharp contrast to the dry, dust-covered Cavan I know that I stop walking a moment, allowing my eyes to take in the beauty.

Carina leads me to a bench where she props her foot up and rests her forearm over her knee. “They’re going to look to you,” she says, her eyes scanning the courtyard. “And you have to make it seem as if everything is all right. That everything is under control . . . even when it’s not.” She looks at me then.

I lay one hand on the pommel of my sword and roll back my shoulders. “I understand that.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Annoyed, I clamp my back molars hard. Then I say more assuredly, “Yes. I do.”

“Because hanging back with your unit instead of standing before them as their leader will not earn you their trust.” She pauses. “Or their respect.”

I start to argue that I
was
just instructing them in sword fighting, but arguing with her will only make me seem childish. Though my father was a bastard, he at least taught me how to take criticism well. Instead, I ask the question that’s been plaguing me. “Are we to be co-leaders, then?”

Her eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, if I’m to lead them, shouldn’t I be the one setting the time for the meetings, training, and so forth. And”—I stare into her gray eyes—“shouldn’t I be privileged to the same information as you?”

She smiles, her lips curling up on one side. “You should.”

I wait. I’m ready for her to fill me in on all the happenings, but her silence is nearly as painful as a slap to my face. I have nothing but respect for the former Nactue leader, but I’m glad she will retire soon. Her sarcasm and blatant disrespect for my position is grating on my nerves.

As I wait for her response, I glance around the courtyard. Then from my peripheral, I catch the slightest movement of Carina’s hand reaching for her sword. I take a staggering step back as she draws it from her belt and points it at my chest. Delayed but on guard, I pull my own sword and meet hers before it slices into me. Our blades meet with a shrill
clang
.

Confused, I take another step backward as she advances. Her blade swipes the air before me, just grazing the cloth of my uniform over my stomach.

“What’s wrong with you?” I ask, blocking her next attack.

She laughs, but doesn’t respond, which is proof enough for me that she has lost her mind. No wonder the Council has retired her early.

“For some reason,” she grunts out as she thrusts her sword, “the empress has chosen you. But I can see something in your eyes—something you’re hiding, holding you back.”

Blocking her next swing, I lunge and meet her blade, rebounding against her force. Our eyes lock, and I feel as if she’s looking through me—can see the mercury swirling, the gears turning beneath my skin.

We hold our locked position, our arms trembling. “There’s fear in your eyes,” she says. “You cannot lead the Nactue harboring fear—”

I step into her space and push her backward, forcing her off balance, and extend my sword. My arm taut, I hold the tip of my blade inches from her chin. “It’s not you who I have to prove myself to.” I suck in a breath. “I serve my empress and my deities. It’s them I have to impress.”

Carina straightens, ignoring my outstretched blade, and sheaths her sword. “You’re right.” Her eyes meet mine once more. “You don’t serve me, nor do you have to impress me. But you’re wrong about proving yourself to
them
.” She turns her back to me and stalks toward the other side of the courtyard, the opposite side of the training facility. Before she pushes through the door, she turns and says, “You must prove it to yourself.” Then she’s gone.

The air in the courtyard no longer feels calm and safe. The stone walls that held me in an embrace of serenity now seem to press in, confining me. My head spins. And suddenly everywhere I look my father’s face appears.

Haunting me.

It taunts me, and anger burns my core. I glance down. Silver streaks the skin over my knuckles, swirling like fire-hot magma, and reaches its spidery web across the top of my hand.

Then, I’m right back in my musty apartment—my mother cooking over the stove, my father bursting through the front door in a panic . . .

My father raced over to me and grabbed my thin arms, then dragged me across the room.

I screamed, and my mother rushed into the room with fear lacing her eyes. “Roland. What are you—?”

Her words cut short as my father revealed a syringe. “The officials are after me,” he panted out. “I have to hide the mercury.”

Before my mother could scream her protest, my father stuck the needle into my arm and pushed the plunger down. Fire coursed through my veins, searing me from the inside out. He clamped his hand over my mouth to stifle my scream.

My mother beat against his back, but it was no use. When the officials kicked in the door, he’d already beat her into a lifeless lump and hid her away, and disposed of the evidence. They ransacked our home, tearing into files, photos, overturning furniture, and breaking into the walls.

But they never found the stolen mercury.

It ran through my veins.

I close my eyes, seeing the memory play vividly across the backs of my eyelids. Pressing my lips together tightly, I push down the rage that boils just under the surface of my skin. Then I cleanse my lungs with a deep breath.

As I open my eyes, I try to focus on my mother’s words, words that should mean more to me than the harm my father caused that night, and more than the words Carina used so callously and has no idea the pain they elicit.

The goddess Alyah saved my life. I’m here for a reason—a
purpose
.

I turn and head back toward the training facility, determination marching my steps forward. Carina has left. I don’t know if she’ll return.

And I don’t care.

As I step into the room, I take in the wide eyes of the Nactue, and say, “I’m your leader. From now on, you’ll take orders from me.”

I do not fear Carina. Or anyone else.

Hell.

In the heated moment with anger burning my insides, declaring my leadership role felt right. Now, I’m not sure what I’m doing. I press my fingers to my temples and think about everything I’ve learned through years of training in the protectors. And while we’re here
training
—possibly for an attack we have no way to prepare for—I wonder who is keeping watch over Empress Iana.

I close my eyes and center my thoughts on her. Then I feel the connection to the empress—the tiny pulse of her life force through the Nactue bond.

The former Nactue are watching over her. They left here early to guard her. Councilor Henna had them placed with the empress while Carina trained us—Councilor Herna wanted Carina away from the empress.

My eyes snap open in alarm. I’ve been taught that the Nactue bond will alert us if she’s in trouble, that I can feel her life force to know when she’s safe—but should it give me this much information? Do the other Nactue sense it in detail?

Shaken, I step forward and say, “Run through your usual warm up drills. I’ll be back in a moment.”

I start toward the double oak doors, but Lilly catches my arm. “Kal, is everything all right?” Her deep amber eyes show the worry she must be struggling with inside.

“Yes,” I say, nodding. “I just need to ask something of Councilor Herna.”

She grips her fist and cracks her knuckles as her mouth pinches together. “Let me know what’s going on.”

I give her a quick smile. “I will. I promise,” I say. And I mean it. I won’t be like Carina, keeping secrets and leaving everyone to wonder and panic. “Now stop cracking your knuckles before they’re too gnarly to wield a sword.”