Wrath Games

THE PYFORIAL MAGE TRILOGY

Book 1:
Fire Games

Book 2:
Wrath Games

Book 3: Coming soon

CHAPTER ONE

I sat up, awakened by the sound of a key fiddling in my door. Luckily I’d had the foresight to drag a table in front it.

The lock slid open. The door hinges let out a slight whimper as the table creaked. Everything stopped. If this was a servant or anyone who didn’t mean to do harm, they would reveal their identity the instant the door caught.

I waited, but this person made no sound.

My room in the castle was large enough for me to jump out of bed without worry of being heard. I wanted to see who this person was before they retreated and tried sneaking in another night…or was it morning by now?

Shara had left soon after she’d awoken from nightmares, wanting to be in her own bed in case someone of the king’s staff came looking for her. I’d decided to move the table when my empty bed didn’t provide the comfort I needed to get back to sleep. That must’ve been hours ago. The edges of the curtains glowed, unable to contain the light of daybreak. It was morning, or at least closer to morning than night. So who would wait until the light of day to unlock my door and enter in silence?

As I walked toward the door, the table shot into my waist, the force of it pushing me back while my heart jumped into my throat. I came to my senses and got low, shoving the table back into the opening door until it slammed shut.

“Who are you!” I yelled.

There was no reply.

It had to be Swenn or at least someone he’d sent. I started for the door—no, first my pants and shirt. Wait, no time. I needed to find out who it was before they left.

Just as I started to pull the table back, the door flung open, throwing the table out of its way and into my stomach. I lost my breath and fell onto my back. Gasping from beneath the table, I saw boots of the thickest leather stomping toward me. So Swenn had sent someone to kill me.

Unable to breathe, I could only scamper away as I coughed. A look over my shoulder revealed a giant of a man dressed in chain mail with a massive sword on his hip. As I started to gather pyforial energy, wondering if I could even get it around his thick neck, he pushed out his palms.

The man whistled, a quick two-note melody of high-low. He repeated it, his gaping eyes telling me to be calm.

So he wasn’t here to kill me. “What do you want?” I asked between coughs, pulling up my drooping undershorts and grabbing my pants.

By the time I had them on, he still hadn’t answered me. I put on my shirt, gazing up at him between each button. He stood there pointing at his mouth and shaking his head.

“Can’t talk?”

He whistled out two high notes.

“Is that a yes?”

He nodded.

“Why didn’t you just nod the first time?”

He handed me a small scroll from his pocket.
“Because then you’d never learn.”

I rolled it up and handed it back. “What other notes are in that pocket?”

He pointed at the small scroll, then held up one finger.

“That’s the only one?” I asked.

Two high notes—
“yes.”

“You only have one scroll and that’s what it says? Is that supposed to be funny?”

Two low notes—
“no
,”
I figured.

Realizing I could only ask this giant questions resulting in yes or no, I gave him the most important one to answer as I put on my shoes. “Did Swenn send you?”

“Yes.”

I wanted to ask why, but that would get me nowhere. The giant wasn’t here to kill me…at least not this morning.

“Do you have a key to my room because Swenn wants you to kill me?”

“No.”

“Would you give me the same answer even if he did?”

“Yes.”

I told myself to stop asking stupid questions. I stared at the enigma, wondering what I possibly could say to figure out more. He had a dark complexion and light eyes that were almost green. It made me uneasy, the way they glided over me, bored, like I was just a menial task. He had arms the size of my legs, so speed clearly wasn’t his strong suit.
I’d better keep some distance in case he ever intends to do harm.

He calmly straightened one of the fallen chairs onto its legs and plopped down into it, his eyes never leaving me.

“Just going to sit there?”

Apparently my question didn’t even deserve a whistle.

“Well, you can stay here all day if you want, but I have things to do.”

He stood as I walked by, letting out a loud huff as if I’d annoyed him.

“What?”

He gestured at the chair, then lifted both hands toward me, his shoulders shrugging.

“You just sat down and now I’m making you get up.”

He raised his eyebrows as he whistled out “yes,” as if impressed I actually understood him.

“I’m not as stupid as Swenn says I am.”

He handed me a tiny scroll from his pocket.

“We’ll see about that.”

“What is this? You told me you only had one scroll.”

He handed me another.

“I lied.”

I could do nothing but stare as I waited for either a grin or a scowl to turn my mouth.

A scowl won out. “You think you’re funny.”

Two low notes—
“no.”

The enormous man followed me out of my room. He stayed behind me as I walked straight ahead, unsure where I was going. I worried about Eizle’s body. I knew it was silly to let it bother me, especially with the king’s master of coin wanting to turn me into a corpse just as he’d done to my friend, but I had to make sure Eizle received a decent burial. I couldn’t imagine them providing a ceremony for him after he’d nearly killed the king. Maybe a few words with the right person could change that.
If only I knew who that was.

After walking in circles, I eventually found a familiar face. The handsome young guard who’d embarrassed Shara when we’d first arrived at the castle nearly trampled me as we both came to the same turn.

“Wide turns, Neeko,” Darri said. “What if I was the king?”

“Sorry. Could you help me with something?”

“Depends.” He glanced over my head at Swenn’s mute henchman and the corner of his mouth twisted.

“I don’t know who to speak to about making sure Eizle gets a burial.”

“He won’t no matter who you speak to. Traitors are burned to ash.”

It felt like he’d plunged a knife into my stomach.
Eizle was no traitor. He was trying to help this kingdom by ridding it of his brother.

“I see” was all I could mutter.

“Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Come with me.”

Darri led me to the great hall. With light pouring in through open windows, it was no longer cavernous like it was last night when Shara and I stepped in with our redemption scrolls. We still needed to turn them in for our dalions, one of many things that had to be done today. I achingly removed “Eizle’s corpse” from my mental list.

People filled the seats around two long tables. I followed Darri’s lead and took a plate from the end, brought it over to a vat of what seemed to hold oatmeal, piled it on, followed with some buttered bread, and then sat beside him in one of the few empty chairs left. Except for two young women in lavish dresses, everyone eating was male, most of them clad in armor, all of them older than me.

I had to look around to find Swenn’s henchman. Leaning against the wall with his arms folded, he appeared bored as usual. Darri glanced in the same direction.

“That’s Big Henry.”

“Why is he following me?”

“That’s for Swenn to tell you.” Darri didn’t look up from his plate. “If he chooses.”

I thought about telling Darri the truth about Eizle coming here to kill his brother. Swenn needed to die. If I could turn people in the castle to my side…
actually, what would that accomplish even if it worked?
I quickly changed my mind. It wasn’t like convincing a few guards that Swenn was a liar, a thief, and a murderer would do anything, and the attempt to persuade them could ruin my plan.

My plan. Gods, it needed work. I figured I’d wait for him to be alone somewhere, then kill him. For all I knew, he could have the same plan. Maybe that’s what Big Henry was for.

Even if I got to Swenn first, the odds of getting away with it seemed low. If I could find a way to take him from this world without leaving it myself, then I would.

I tried to ignore the pang of guilt as I thought about Swenn stabbing Eizle, his blade driving into my friend’s chest over and over. What would I say to Eizle’s parents when I went to check on my aunt in Cessri?
Your older son killed your younger son, and if it wasn’t for me, it would’ve been the other way around. Now your putrid spawn still lives, but don’t worry, I’m planning for him to die just like Eizle.

I sighed, then reminded myself I needed to ignore the guilt, not hold onto it.
My future actions will make up for what I’ve done.

“What do people think of the master of coin?” I decided to ask Darri for some sense of the perception about Swenn.

“He’s fair and an excellent leader.” The line sounded rehearsed. This wasn’t going to get me anywhere.

“What will they have Shara do today in order to determine what role she’ll take in this war?”

“The army commander will test her and find what she’s best suited for compared to what we need most.”

The army commander—that wasn’t right. “King Quince said she wouldn’t be fighting.”

“She won’t, you will. The commander oversees everything that has to do with the army. He’ll pass her off to someone else after his initial test, so long as she doesn’t get herself thrown out of the castle by singing to him. You’ll be summoned by the army commander today as well.”

“What about the king? How can I gain an audience with him?”

“Talk to the king’s squire, but I wouldn’t expect you have the clout. Probably never will. Few people get to see King Quince unless he sets up the meeting.”

“He told me Shara and I would get our money today for the redemption scrolls.”

“And if he says something will happen, then it will happen.”

I hesitated, sensing Darri’s annoyance at my endless questions. “There are other matters I need to speak to him about.”

Darri pointed his finger at the young man across the table from us. “Falister, there, is the king’s squire.” Falister glanced up at the sound of his name. “If there’s something you need to ask the king, then ask him.”

“Or don’t if you’re smart enough to figure it out on your own,” Falister called back, petulant.

“The king said I could check on my aunt in Cessri after I agreed to join the army. I need to speak to him about the trip.”

Falister scoffed. “I can’t imagine King Quince giving special treatment to some teenager like you.”

Darri chuckled snidely. “You’re only nineteen.”

“Yes, but you don’t see me requesting leave to check on my family. And I’m
the king’s squire
, not some new recruit.”

One of the two women at the other table called Darri’s name. He turned, then formed a wide grin.

“Excuse me.”

So much for his help.

“Can you speak to the king about a meeting?” I asked Falister, trying my luck.

“No need. I’ll tell you here and now that you can’t go to Cessri. If you’re part of the army, you’ll go where the army goes.”

I held in my frustration. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I wasn’t asking for your permission.”

Falister shook his head, glaring at me incredulously as if I had just spit in his food.

“I would ask if you’re of nobility,” he snapped, “but you say your family is in Cessri so I already know you’re not. I would then ask if you’re rich, for donating money to the army can gain the king’s favor, but I can see by your clothes that you’re not. That leaves just one thing. You’re stupid, and no one here has time for stupid. Eat your breakfast quietly, then go latch yourself back onto Darri’s hip.”