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Chapter 20
No Turning Back
She should run. Why wasn’t she running already? Her heart beat so heavily that she could hear it throbbing in her ears. It rang in beat to the pulsing of the earthstone around her neck. She was suddenly aware of the stone stairs beneath her feet, pulsing at her. The weight of the enormous stone pillar next to her, she felt as though she could feel the entire pillar itself resonating. The weight of it, strong and defiant as it struck up into air unsupported by anything but it’s own will.
She was also aware of the dagger sheathed on her leg. It was much more formidable weapon than her climbing spikes had ever been but Femira was in no rush to test her skills against an Honorsword.
She turned to face Karas.
“Your family has commanded that you return home to Ka Pazar… you have been ignoring all communications from your family since your capture,” Karas said in their native Keiran.
“My family was in Altarea,” Femira responded in common tongue, she didn’t trust that she could pull off the right accent for Annali in her native language, but at least in common she could rely on generic Keiran accent, it was one of the reasons she had avoided all detection so far—well, almost all detection. “And they’re gone now,” she said.
“Your allegiance to the Altareans died the moment Reselas did, your family will see you returned so that they may assign another duty to you,” he said with a cold edge, as if Annali’s choice in the matter was of no consequence. Keiran women didn’t enjoy the same independence as the women of Reldon or Altarea, their duty was to their family and often they were forced into marriages for the political or economical benefit of the family. A part of Femira seethed at the injustice even though they weren’t really her family duties but the idea of it made her grit her teeth.
“My duty was to Reselas,” she said, allowing her anger to seep out in her tone but using Annali’s words, “and the Emperor killed him just as much as the Reldoni soldier that stuck their sword in him. We waited for weeks for Keiran reinforcements. I stood watching the Reldoni warships sail closer and closer, praying that my kin would rescue us.”
—That part at least was true, Femira had knelt on the rooftops with Lichtin and the crew along with half the city of Altarean, all watching with terror as the red sails crept closer. The stories of Reldoni bloodshedders wreaking havoc on civilians having been perpetuated throughout the city in the weeks leading to that. Luckily for the citizens of Altarea, the stories were unfounded with the Reldoni accepting the city mayor’s surrender with minimal bloodshed. It was the highborn locked away in the palace that had resisted and paid the price for it.
“You dare to question the will of your Emperor?” Karas snarled at her.
“He’s not my emperor anymore.”
“His Excellence is sovereign over all that sits under the sun and moons!”
“Well, I think the Reldoni would disagree with you on that.” She turned on her heel and made to leave.
“Do not walk away from me, woman! Your time away from the Court of the Sun has made you insolent but I will humble you and bring you to heel.” Femira could hear the sliding of his weapon from it’s sheath. His great behemoth of a sword.
What had she been thinking? On instinct she reached out with her edir, the pulsing the stone steps reacting to her mind’s touch. She drew the stone into her earthstone smoothing the stairs to a ramp. Not that she expected that to stop him—she’d watched this man smash through a pillar of rock with his sword shattering it as if it were glass—but it might delay him, she sprinted up the stairs without glancing back.
She felt a sudden wall of wind push against her. She could easily have lost her balance and fallen back down the ramp she just created but her training fights against stormstone users had honed her responses to such manoeuvres. She allowed herself to flow with the force of the wind and fluidly moved into a crouched position, lowering her center of gravity and retaining her balance. That was the trick to stormstone wielders, stay low and don’t let them push you off balance. This set her eye level with Karas who was still at the foot of the stairs.
He stood with his greatsword casually held at one side in one hand as if it didn’t weigh more than Femira herself.
“The Reldoni might think it’s acceptable for women runeweilders but you have broken the law of Keiran. You have forgotten your place, Annali of House Jahar. You have even forgotten the language of your own people it seems.”
She noticed Landryn, Allyn and the white-haired boy standing not far behind him watching the exchange with curious expressions.
A bold plan formed in her mind.
“I’m not fucking Keiran anymore,” she sneered at Karas, “so I’ll runewield all I fucking please. And your Emperor can go fuck himself!” His eyes widened, “That accent! You couldn’t be Annali… you’re an imposter!”
Still in a crouch, she easily drew the dagger from her leg sheath.
She wished she had insisted on wearing her military uniform instead of the silk dress but considering the way Karas had cut through Sadrian Graves’ helmet, she doubted the uniform would have offered much more protection. She cut a long strip down the length of the skirt, to give her more manoeuvrability. There was no more doubt, it was coming down to fight.
Jaz and Aden had poured over the details of Sadrian Graves’ fight with the Honorsword, he had been one of the best bloodshedders in the ranks, how he fell so easily was a point of much concern to many of them. The consensus had been that Karas was an exceptionally skilled stormstone wielder attributing to the extra power in his attacks.
They also speculated that he was a Foebreaker himself, and that was how he had managed to withstand Havran’s ability to crush an opponent's will. Becoming a master in the use of two disciplines of runestones was rare, but not impossible. This led Femira to the guess that he was unlikely to be skilled in the use of any other type of runestone. It gave her a tiny advantage in an otherwise heavily outmatched fight. Although it didn’t help Hadran Graves.
“You dare draw your sword on me!” she shouted at him, loud enough that she hoped it would carry across the balcony. She felt a sudden intense pressure on her mind, an overwhelming sense of fear causing her legs to quiver in their crouched position.
She felt like curling up, to hide her face. She knew that it was the aura of his Foebreaker ability. She didn’t fully understand how it worked exactly, she was wholly unfamiliar with all of the ethereal runestones and mindstone was no exception. She did know that similar to her own earthstone there was a limit to its power, she had been told that most Foebreakers only used theirs when it was absolutely necessary.
The thought that Karas perceived her as enough of a threat to use his abilities on her did not ease the sense of terror paralysing her. She felt all the colour drain from her face, watching in panic as Karas performed an inhuman leap, clearing the now smoothed ramp of the stairs. He grabbed her roughly by the neck and jerked her to her feet.
“You thought you could deceive an Honorsword?!” he growled at her. The intensity of his red eyes bore into her. This close she could see that the entirety of the eye was varying shades of red, the edges were vibrant as fresh blood, the iris was deeper, almost black. Somewhere in her mind, the part of her that was Femira tried to form a retort to his words but she could think through the irrefutable panic taking her.
His eyes scanned the features of her face.
“You are you?” His grip was iron on her neck holding her place, but he wasn’t choking her.
There was a deafening crack.
In a blur, she fell from Karas’ grip. Her exposed legs and arms burned against the smooth stone of the ramp as she slid down it. Her training kicked in and Femira rolled to a tumble coming up on her feet at the base of the ramp.
Looking up she saw. Prince Landryn, his sister and the boy—Vestyr— stood in a row in front of her. Landryn had his sword drawn and levelled… but not at her. The blade was sleek and completely black, pointing above her. She glanced back and could see Karas recovering from having been knocked back by whatever had struck them.
Landryn carefully stepped forward, moving in between Femira and Karas on the stairs. “Help her,” Landryn instructed Allyn and Vestyr. The two rushed forward to pull Femira back. The crushing sense of fear was retreating from her, she noted that she had the use of her legs again.
She pulled against Vestyr’s grip but it held firm as he pulled her back. He was a lot stronger than she had expected from someone of his size. He pulled her back a short distance and released her. Femira, Vestyr and Allyn stood in a line watching the pair on the stairs.
“You dare attack an Honorsword?” Karas snarled at the Prince.
“You assault a guest in my father’s palace,” Landryn scoffed, “You disrespect every courtesy given… Tell me, Honorsword Karas, are you so deluded in your own sense of authority to think that your jurisdiction extends even here?!”
“All Keiran answer to the Emperor of the Sun, she is the property of Keiran.”
“As I have told you before,” Landryn warned, “Lady Annali is under my protection. You have challenged that protection and now must suffer the consequences of that choice.”
“And what can you throw at me, Prince of Reldon? I have already faced your best, your primitive runewielders cannot compare to the strength of the Honorswords.”
“You haven’t faced me,” Landryn said with venom.
Quicker than Femira could follow, Landryn leapt at Karas, easily clearing the smoothed ramp. Karas swung his massive sword with ease as Landryn landed, the tall Reldoni lithely avoiding the swing as he landed and striking out effortlessly landing a cut on Karas’ cheek.
Karas jumped back appalled, one hand reaching up to touch the trickle of blood from the tiny wound. Femira had seen stormstone wielders in action before, both in the training grounds and in the Altarean palace; she had seen first hand how they moved at inhuman speed. But they were sluggish compared to Karas and Landryn who danced about each other in such rapid movements that Femira couldn’t even follow.
They exchanged a series of glancing blows and parries. Karas was evidently more powerful, but his weapon and golden armour were heavier—and imperceptibly slower—making it more difficult for him to land a hit on Landryn. Karas would likely only need one well placed strike of that sword to cleave the Prince in half. Landryn on the other hand, could move quicker. He easily dodging and parrying Karas’ swings, which was a testament to just how fast Landryn was moving. The stairs itself was almost as wide as the balcony, giving the two enough room to fight, both trying to gain the advantage of the higher steps.
In other fights with stormstone wielders, Femira could feel the air itself warping and blowing indiscriminately as they fought. That was not the case here, both fighters using their powers so efficiently that there were no stray blasts of air. Jaz had told her that similarly to how her stoneskin skill worked, an accomplished stormstone wielder could channel the air itself into their bodies, making them lighter and faster. While being lighter would make your strikes hit with less force, a practised push of air on your blade could drive it home with considerable power.
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Landryn sidestepped a downward hit, causing Karas’ sword to smash into the stone rails of the stairs. It obliterated the stone, raining debris onto the balcony below. Landryn reacted quickly to the mistake, striking quickly and landing another hit. The sound of metal on metal screeched as the blade slid ineffectively against Karas’ armour.
Femira glanced to her sides, Allyn and Vestyr both stood watching with silent intensity, “should we help him?” she asked them.
“Their ability is well above ours, Lady Annali,” Allyn said but there was an edge of uncertainty in her expression. “Vestyr?” Allyn looked at the boy.
“Our assistance may be a hindrance, I wouldn’t want to distract your brother,” he said, his strange accent emphasising the “s” sounds sharply.
“You can sink him into the ground,” Femira said without thinking, “trap him, that could give Landryn the advantage.” Both Allyn and Vestyr looked at her with surprise. It was clear that he did not recognise her from that night a few weeks back.
“You can do this,” Femira nodded to him, and then stepped forward.
“Don’t be stupid, Annali,” Allyn warned, “you’ve only been training for a few months, this fight is far beyond you.”
Femira didn’t acknowledge her, instead attuning herself to the thrum of her earthstone. She pulled on it, forming two blades of sharpened stone. She was getting better at that but two was still all that she could manage at one time. They hovered in front of her, waiting for her command.
She waited.
Landryn and Karas continued their dance of swords, Karas’ gauche but terrifyingly fast swings and Landryn’s carefully timed strikes. Neither provided enough of an opening yet for a critical hit. They moved so quickly, but she just needed a second—one second—where she could confidently push the stoneblades forward.
Landryn parried another attack, using his assured balance to deflect the attack and allow Karas’ sword to slide down against his own. They drew close in the exchange and Karas headbutted Landryn knocking him backwards. Being the shorter opponent, Karas' headbutt caught Landryn in the chest but still had enough force to have him stumbling backwards.
Femira pushed, forcing the stoneblades forward… but they didn’t budge. She felt another beat vibrating against her. Vestyr took a step past her, laying a hand on her arm.
“It wasn’t a clear shot,” he chided.
She would have snapped at him, but the boy had bested her effortlessly and was clearly the more experienced stonebreaker. The vibrations from her stoneblades changed morphing into a new beat unresponsive to her as Vestyr forced control of them from her. She didn’t even know that was possible!
Karas had pressed his advantage and was now on higher steps taking powerful strikes down against Landryn who didn’t look to be slowing down. One of the stoneblades whipped forward, towards Karas who quickly reacted by raising his armoured forearm to block the projectile. Landryn acted fast, lancing upward and slicing his blade deep into his opponent’s armpit. Vestyr let fly the second projectile and it buried itself in Karas’ eye.
He let out a gasp of surprise and pain, his massive sword dropping from his hand and clattering down the steps and sliding along the ramp before coming to stop. Karas himself staggered with a stunned expression on his face. His remaining red eye that seemed to shine with malevolence was now faded and dull, the other with a stoneblade firmly lodged in it.
“Allyn,” Landryn called out, not turning from Karas but taking a step back as the man slumped, “Fetch General Garld and the Palace healers. Do not draw alarm, we do not want to bring attention to Honorsword Jahasa.” Allyn didn’t jump at the command, or seem at all distrubed by the scene she had seen. She simply nodded agreement and purposefully made back for the feasting hall.
Vestyr remained by Femira, palace guards were now rushing from their posts. The fight had all happened so quickly, if the pair hadn’t been such accomplished stormstone wielders they would likely still be throwing the initial attacks.
Femira hadn’t noticed Landryn’s approach; she was so fixated on Karas’s twitching form on the stairs. “Lady Annali,” he inclined his head, “my sincerest apologies… I did not think that the Honorswords would be so rash in attacking you. In my experience, they are a very prideful organisation with a somewhat… disconcerting view on justice. I’m aware that they will often administer that impulsive justice at their own will but I didn’t think one would be so foolish to do that in a foreign palace.”
Femira was still agape but she nodded to him. Blood was beginning to trickle down the ramp she’d created and was pooling at the base of the stairs around Karas’ sword. She wordlessly nodded to him.
“Vestyr, will you escort Lady Annali back to the feast?—or would you prefer to return to your rooms?” Landryn turned back to her. She looked to Vestyr who was inspecting the sword and the blood, he turned to look at her. His pale features giving him a ghostly appearance. “No,” Femira said, “it’s ok—really—I’m fine.”
Landyn didn’t look convinced, “allow me, then,” he turned back to Vestyr, “watch Karas until Garld arrives… I don’t think he’s likely to come back from that but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious with his kind.”
More palace guards were arriving, blocking off access to the balcony with quick commands from Landryn as he escorted her back the hallway they’d come—when she’d been stalking after him, eavesdropping on him. It felt awkward now to be walking alongside him, more palace guards were heading towards the balcony but there was no sense of panic. Allyn obviously had instructed them to be discreet.
Some Reldoni highborn gave her resentful looks as they passed. On her own they had mostly ignored her but now walking with their Prince was too much for them to overlook. Femira hadn’t even noticed that he was taking her along a different route than they had come until they reached a grand staircase leading down to a lower level of the palace. It led out onto one another expansive balcony overlooking Epilas and the bay.
This balcony was much larger than the one above, with decorative fountains positioned amongst the gardened areas on the walkway. Femira found herself captivated by the dancing waters of the fountains they passed, there was definitely some element of runewielding involved as the water flowed in the air in impressive arcing streams, the flow sometimes twisting in ways that flouted gravity.
“I had wanted to talk with you but I didn’t know how to approach it… I’m sorry that it’s under these circumstances that I finally did,” Landryn said suddenly, and a little awkwardly.
“Why?”
“After everything that happened in Altarea, I… I didn’t think you would want to speak with me.”
“I meant why are you sorry?” She asked and then she realised abruptly that he didn’t know she wasn’t the real Annali.
Would Garld hide that even from him?
“You’re my guest here… well Garld’s guest really. I should have come to you immediately after I arrived back from Altarea. I have to admit I was surprised when he told me that you wanted to join our bloodshedder ranks.”
“You didn’t think a small Keiran girl like me would want to become a runewielder?”
“The only Keiran women I’ve met have been rather… unenthusiastic about runewielding.”
“I’m not like most Keiran women.”
“I think I’m starting to see that… How are you finding life in the barracks?” Landryn asked, “Are you enjoying training with the other bloodshedders?”
“I’m not fully sure yet,” she said with a bit of uncertainty, “I’ve only been doing it a few months now. It’s not bad, I can stand it.” She was surprised how quickly she was abandoning the feelings that her training was all some ruse from Garld and Landryn so that they could hand her over to the Honorswords. Landryn’s actions tonight proved that was never their intention with her.
So why am I here?
“I’ve been told you’re excelling in stonebreaking, have you started with a secondary runestone yet? Most of us eventually learn to master two.”
“I thought I was,” she answered, truthfully.
“Not anymore?”
“Not lately no,” she toyed with the idea of telling Landryn about her encounter with Vestyr but thought better of it. She doubted Garld would be hiding anything from his commander but it felt wrong to tell him outside of Garld’s instructions. And if Garld hadn’t told Landryn about her true identity then it made her feel she shouldn’t be so upfront with him.
When did I become a minion of Garld?
She already knew… It was the moment he had shown the promise of real power. “Endrin and some of the others,” she continued, “yourself included. You all runewield in ways I was told was impossible… ways I can’t comprehend.”
Landryn was quiet for a moment. Femira wondered if he was going to divulge the secrets to their advanced runewielding but was disappointed when he changed the subject. “And how do you find the other recruits?” he asked.
“I suppose it’s a matter of mindset. You could let a lot of things bother you if you let it—the strict regulations and training drills, the idiots that think they’re the top shit,”—Endrin and Loreli’s condescending faces—“but it’s pretty much the same as... well, anywhere” She had been about to say ‘same as when I was in Lichtin’s crew’ but caught herself.
Landryn was nodding as if he understood, he seemed to be turning something over in his mind. Then looked straight into her eyes as if peering at some unusual object. She had never had occasion to look into his eyes before, not like this. It was the first time they had spent this much together at all. His eyes were a dark brown… they suited his face.
“Why are you so interested?” she asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable under his gaze.
“I was just wondering what life is like for you here… ” he seemed to be trying—and failing—to find exactly the right words. Then he sighed and looked down. “I don’t know, nevermind.”
He continued walking along the balcony making his way to one of the larger fountains and she followed.
“My brother and I used to try divert the flow of these,” he said, “if you block the path of the water it always seems to right itself back on course. No matter how hard we tried we couldn’t stop the inevitable.” He didn’t continue and Femira wasn’t sure how to respond, “I miss my brothers sometimes,” she said, honestly. The saddest part was they had both died so many years ago that she wasn’t even sure if she recalled their faces correctly. The images she had in her mind slowly warped over time.
“You could return to them in Keiran, if you wanted to?”
“No,” she said, firmly. He nodded and didn’t press the topic. She absently wondered what Annali’s brothers were like, in her mind she pictured her own brothers dressed as highborn..
“I’m glad we had the chance to talk, just the two of us.” He said slowly. Femira struggled to try to remember what they had even spoken about.
“I wonder,” he began, “if you wouldn’t mind … I mean, if it wasn’t any bother for you… Do you think we could meet like this again? I know I don’t have any right to be asking you this.”
“Any right? What do you mean by that?” She realised her reaction might have been a bit strong but it was done.
“I don’t know, I can’t really explain it,” he said, avoiding looking her in the eye. His gaze fell on the fountain in front of them. “I didn’t mean to say ‘right’ exactly. I was looking for another way to put it. I know that this must all be very difficult. The assault on Altarea—being here. It all must be a lot for you.”
He leaned forward, resting his hands on the wall surrounding the fountain. He stared at it, almost as though he were hoping to find the proper expression in the flowing cascade of water. Failing, he sighed and closed his eyes.
“Nevermind,” Femira said, “I think I know what you’re getting at. I’m not sure how to put it either”
“I never know what I want to say,” Landryn continued, “It’s been like this for a while. I try to say something but all I get are the wrong words—or sometimes the right words but they come out all in the wrong order. Sometimes it even comes off being the exact opposite of what I’m trying to say. I try to correct myself and only make it worse. I lose track of what I was even saying to begin with. Most of the time, the Generals have already advised me on what to say and do. I don’t…” he trailed off and went quiet.
“Everybody feels that way a little I think,” she said looking to break the silence, “They’re trying to express themselves and it’s annoying when you can’t get it right”
Landryn looked disappointed with the answer, “no that’s not it either,” he said without further explanation.
“Well yes, I would like to see you again,” Femira said, attempting to move the conversation back to his original question. He smiled at her, but it was a sad smile, “I don’t think I deserve this kindness from you, Annali.”
It was then that it clicked together for her. It was known throughout the Reldoni military that it had been Landryn himself that had fought—and killed—Prince Reselas in Altarea.
He thinks he killed my husband!
A lot of what he had been trying to say suddenly made sense… was he trying to apologise to her? Femira wasn’t sure how to react, she knew what Annali would have done, she’d have screamed at him, hurled insults and accusations. Demanded the restoration of Altarea, but she wasn’t Annali and she didn’t care for any of that so she just stayed silent, unsure.
“Prince Landryn,” Garld’s voice said from behind them. Femira jumped at his presence, he was flanked by two other soldiers in black bloodshedder uniforms. Femira didn’t recognise them, but there were still many of the fully trained bloodshedders she’d yet to meet.
“Hello Garld,” Landryn said, “Allyn found you, I assume?”
“Yes, what in the hells were you thinking? Attacking an Honorsword at a treaty feast!”
“Karas attacked me,” Femira interjected, “I’m sorry, General. It was my fault.” Garld gave her a considering look.
He’s trying to figure out if I’ve been exposed. She gave him the barest shake of her head. Karas was dead and it wasn’t like Garld had any way to ever find out that he had figured out the truth.
“It was reckless,” Garld said, “we were lucky we managed to distract Honorsword Jahasa and subdue him into our custody before he realised his colleague was missing. You should have—”
“—I will remind you General that I am your Commander,” Landryn said firmly. There was no other highborn in earshot of their conversations and Femira didn’t doubt the statement was for the two other bloodshedders… and possibly her?
Garld inclined his head, “of course, my Prince.”
“Where is Jahasa?”
“Lukane’s office. Your brother is not happy. We luckily got runebinding shackles on Jahasa but we have a full guard on him also, as a precaution.”
“Good, and Allyn?”
“With Lukane. As for her friend, I’m not sure.”
“See if you can get someone to find him, I’ll deal with Lukane.” Landryn inclined his head to Femira and went to leave.
“I’ll come with you,” Garld said to Landryn but then leaned into Femira. “I’ll want a full debrief tonight. Find your friend Jaz and make your way back to the barracks.”
On that, Garld and the pair of bloodshedders left, leaving her alone next to the fountain. She turned back to it, the events of the evening swirling in her mind more erratically than the streams of water. Karas’ blood pooling at the foot of stairs burned in her mind.
Red eyes and pools of blood.
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