The Rising King (3 page)

Their spies infiltrated our cities and it didn’t take long for them to find out Baun had lost his power and that his newfound son was giving orders. I guess I don’t instill the same kind of fear in their hearts as my father once had.

“Hey there, sunshine,” Wyatt shouts from across the room, “nice to see you’re finally up and able to join the party.”

I make my way to Wyatt and his brother Reece, my friends and the only full humans in the room. I trust them with my life. They’re surrounded by a small group of
firsts
who are poring over maps and arguing.

“He was attacked by millispits,” Reece says in my defense, then snaps his fingers at Halim, a half-human, half-
first
orphan boy who has a bad case of hero worship toward Reece, and thumbs him out. The boy immediately runs out of the room on some errand.

“Yeah.” Wyatt snickers. “Those little slimy beasties are like, what? Two inches long?” He holds up his hands to indicate their diminutive size and shakes dramatically. “Scaaarrry.”

Reece smacks his brother with a rolled-up map. “I nearly died when they attacked me, you jerk.”

“Not surprised. Dad always said you were a girl in a dude’s body.”

“He did not.”

“Why would I lie?” Wyatt says with a straight face.

I look between the two. “And this is why I’m glad I don’t have a brother.”

“Hey.” Wyatt slings an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “We love each other, right?” He squeezes his brother tight.

“Just not right now.” Reece struggles out of the embrace and changes the subject. “Have you heard? While you’ve been protecting the human realm from weird Teag stuff, Wyatt let the council send all our troops away.”

I turn to Wyatt, and he frowns at his brother. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“Nope.” Reece leans his hip against the table and crosses his arms over his chest.

Wyatt turns his back on Reece, and I level a serious look at him. “When I left, the borders were secure, and now suddenly we’re under attack?”

“What my boneheaded brother doesn’t understand is that I didn’t let them
do
anything. The council got together and made an executive decision without me, the dumb shits. Even after I explained how suicidal that move was, your father couldn’t dissuade them.”

The usually crowded room was definitely lean on manpower. More like a skeleton crew minus more bones than a recent lion kill picked over by vultures. “Where’d they go?”

Wyatt rolled out a map on a nearby table. “I can’t be too hard on them. I mean, their job is to protect the people, but instead of calling everyone closer to the city, which I immediately did after they left, they’ve been rushing around putting out little emergencies. Remember those skirmishes last week?”

I nod. A whole section of Teag was attacked, alerting us to the fact that our neighbors were more than a little curious as to what was going on in Teag, but we quickly took care of that threat and it’s been quiet ever since.

Wyatt pointed to the area. “No one could tell us anything. It was like a ghost killed a handful of families while they slept. No footprints. No signs of heavy activity. Just dead people. That’s not normal.”

“How so?”

“That kind of raid is never clean,” Reece injects.

Wyatt nods. “No one covers their tracks like that. There isn’t a need. Whoever it is, they’re fishing, trying to draw us out. Thin us out.”

I don’t like the sound of that. I move closer, and ask Cahl, one of Wyatt’s top soldiers, what type of people inhabit the land closest to the area that was attacked “They’re simple and direct. Sneaking around isn’t their way.”

“Okay, we have a new threat.” I search Wyatt’s face and find doubt.

“I don’t think it’s new. While you were gone, a big problem popped up.” He sweeps his hand across the map in the other direction. “Dark Souls swooped in and did a number on this little place right here. Burned the whole damn place to the ground and then spread out to the next village. Very messy.”

“You think the two attacks are connected?” They didn’t sound connected.

“Yeah. We’re being set up. I let slip my suspicions to your dad. He hesitated, wanting more proof. Unfortunately, the proof he wanted meant people would die, and they did, and then the council panicked, and now we’re so thin, it’ll take a miracle to keep us afloat until the others return.”

“Where’s my dad?” It’s odd he’s not here issuing orders.

Halim returns, breathless, sweaty, and filled with visible fear. He whispers into Reece’s ear.

Wyatt ignores the kid and answers my question. “Over here.” He points to the area where the Dark Souls were last seen. “He convinced the council he’s the only one who knows how to deal with them. They agreed, and last I heard they got it under control and are making their way back.”

“You believe all of that was a coordinated effort to get us to weaken the Ruined City’s defenses?”

“I do.”

Their plan worked. “Do we know who’s outside the gates?” I ask.

“Rodarians,” Cahl says. “They’re from the east.”

“What do we know about them?”

The stiff way Cahl stands reminds me of the clay soldiers standing guard in the first Chinese emperor’s tomb. He clears his throat. “They can do little tricks, the most impressive being they can change their appearance into almost anyone.”

That doesn’t sound good.

Reece rubs Halim’s head and points to a pitcher of water before turning back to us. “We’ve got even bigger trouble.”

The whole room comes to a stop with that pronouncement. We’re under attack. What more could go wrong? The silence is eerie and makes my ears hurt almost as much as too much noise. I slump, dropping my head between my shoulders. “There’s something freaky going on outside, isn’t there?”

Wyatt snorts. “There’s always something freaky going on around here.”

I straighten, and Reece’s gaze finds mine. “Halim says the Nightmare Men have arrived.”

A wave of fear sweeps the room, and the soldiers shift uncomfortably.

“Who are they?” I hate the way I always feel one step behind around here.

Halim pushes his way into the group, gulps down his water, and slams the cup on the table. “No one knows, but they’re really, really scary-looking. They crush your bones and drink your blood…”

“Yeah,” Wyatt says, and shoves the cup back at Halim. “Fee, fi, fo, fum. I smell the blood of a Teagun, or whatever you people call yourselves. Now go stand over there.” He gives Halim a nudge toward the back of the room.

“Kids,” he says with a laugh. It’s clear he thinks Halim is overexaggerating. “Betcha these guys are just your run-of-the-mill Freddy Krueger offspring. Seen enough of them around here to last me a lifetime.”

I’m not so sure I agree. Halim seems pretty freaked out. The last time he was this scared the Dark Souls were busy skinning people alive.

“You won’t be laughing long.” Halim’s fingers tighten on his cup. “When I left, the Rodarians were getting ready to send the Nightmare Men into the city. They’ll be tearing through the streets any second.”

“Well, then, it sounds like a good time to say hi.” Wyatt turns and shouts for everyone to suit up. He points to three men. “However you use those maps, get a hold of the king and tell him what’s going down around here.”

Everyone scurries to do as he says.

“I’ve got to give it to you, you’re brave,” Halim says to Wyatt and puts the cup back on the table. “So how are we gonna fight ’em?”

“We?” Wyatt looks at all the men getting ready and then back at Halim. “
We
are going to take them apart piece by piece.
You
aren’t invited.”

“Like hell I’m not!” When Halim tries to dart past, Wyatt snags the back of his collar and swings him around to face Reece. “This piece of baggage you’ve acquired needs to stay here.”

“But, but, but…” the high-pitched voice stutters. Halim’s head whips back and forth among the three of us. “I can help. You know I can.”

Reece wants the kid along. I can see it in his eyes. The two are inseparable. But he doesn’t push, and says to Halim, “It’s up to Dylan. He’s in charge. Not me.”

Sad eyes turn on me. Halim’s need to get involved sparks a moment of understanding. When I killed Navar and left Teag unattended, I created the perfect opportunity for anyone with a speck of greed to seize control. What’s happening now—I did this. My inexperience killed half the people Halim knew. It isn’t so surprising that his sorrow cratered into a deep hate. He has vengeance on the brain, and I’m not sure I blame him.

I feel for the kid, but I agree with Wyatt. “You’re staying here.”

A string of adult cusswords flies off the boy’s tongue. Wyatt shakes his prisoner vigorously and eyes his brother. “Ornery little shit. I see you’ve at least managed to teach him some useful new words.”

I point a finger in Halim’s face. “No argument.”

Wyatt shoves the pint-size problem toward his brother and calls his men forward.

“Where’s Leo?” I ask as we make our way outside.

“Keeping an eye on the Rodarians. He’s with that thing he calls a girlfriend. She won’t let him out of her sight.”

“She’s saved him and me more times than I can count.”

“She’s trouble. Everywhere she goes, she has to insert her little nose. Causes me more headaches…”

“It’s her nature to stir up trouble.” I don’t know why I’m defending her. She’s been a source of contention between Leo and me since she jumped into his arms and licked the side of his face.

Wyatt grunts. “And it’s my nature to squash whatever won’t behave.”

He talks big, but I have my suspicions. “You’ve handled the sister problem, then?” The beautiful sirens had surrounded him like a pack of hungry wolves, but to everyone’s surprise, after we didn’t hear from him for a week, he came away intact.

“I did.”

“And?”

My pushing causes his neck to turn red. I’ve never seen him look so uncomfortable. “I never thought I’d say it, but I’m a one-woman man. Neve wants to stay with me. Her sisters will just have to understand.”

Understanding is the last word I would use to describe the Seven Sisters, the worst kind of sirens. They’re all incredibly beautiful and honest-to-God insane. “So you haven’t told them yet.”

“Neve thought it would be best if she told them.”

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I settle for openmouthed amazement. “They’re called the Seven Sisters. How do you think they’re going to react when one of them says she wants to leave the group?”

“They’ll understand.” Wyatt seems very sure of the outcome. “They love Neve and will do anything for her.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Sunlight hits us in the face as we step from the building and into the open courtyard. The Phoenix Hall was built on the land where the Hall of Whispers once stood. My dad went all out in his love of the dramatics by emblazoning a large phoenix on the front doors and commissioning banners that bore the image of an intensely colored blue phoenix rising out of the flaming ashes to wave over the new hall. The iridescent colors fluttering over the city were certainly eye-catching.

Wyatt outlines our plan, and I suggest I take Blaze and scout out the enemy from the air.

“Can’t.” Wyatt says. “We left him with your grandparents in case more millispits showed up.”

Somehow, I’ve got to find a way to get us more dragons. Our group splits; half dash off to face the enemy to the right, and the rest of us hustle to meet the enemy that had splintered off to the left when they entered the city. The streets twist first one way, and then another, confusing any visitor and at times wearing on the patience of those who live here. But if you pay attention, you see a pattern to the ever-changing directions. Wait long enough and the right street swings by, like a revolving door, to take you to an adjoining street.

We make it to Cobble Street, and Wyatt signals us to stop. The sounds of fighting drift on the wind, telling us our enemy is close. Reece joins us just as we slip down a back alley. Cahl spreads out a satchel of weapons. I take a short dagger and tuck it in my belt. Several of them scoop up their version of grenades, but Wyatt shakes his head. “We go in fast and silent.”

The best thing Wyatt and Reece brought to these people was their fighting style and discipline. Where once magic was used as a first line of defense, now their skills with weapons meant more, and their magic was used to bolster those skills.

When Wyatt was pleased with the weapon choices, we all settled down to wait for our opportunity to attack.

All around us we hear people shouting, steel scraping against steel, and the cries of pain. I edge my sword free, and flames lick up the blade as I do. Reece places his sword to his forehead and mouths a silent prayer. Being human, Reece is outmatched. Only his
incordium
sword
,
which can cut through magic, absorb it, and send it back to the sender, eases my worry. His brother Wyatt, on the other hand, prefers an ordinary sword. He stubbornly refuses to give in to the magic of Teag or believe in the extraordinary power of its people. With a snap of his wrist, he twirls the sword once, then twice at his side before settling it in front of him, his gaze fixed on the street entrance.

The rub and grind warns us the streets are on the move again, and when the street swings around, it brings into view a band of five enemy soldiers standing over the bodies of their victims. Their macabre armor of bones and thick strips of tough leather send a chill down my spine.

Without a word, we charge. Wyatt slams his body into the enemy, slitting a man’s throat with a single swipe of his blade. I stab my burning sword through the next soldier’s armor, piercing his heart and dropping him to the ground. Reece grabs yet another soldier and with one twist, breaks his neck. The others in our group finish off the last two in less than a minute with barely a sound. Wyatt signals us to back out.

Reece stoops to examine one of the soldiers, but he’s quickly pulled away by his brother. We all manage to back out of the street before it swings away.

“What the hell?” Wyatt thumps his brother’s chest. “Why were you trying to peek under the guy’s helmet?”