Kingsbane (Empirium 2)

“We must be cautious, Audric,” Ilmaire urged. “They will not hesitate to protect the Gate.”

Ludivine spoke quietly, so the others couldn’t hear. “We aren’t in danger. They do not intend to shoot.” She paused. “For now.”

“That’s not very reassuring,” Audric muttered.

“Ilmaire is not wrong. They will not hesitate to protect the Gate from any perceived danger.”

So I have to control myself? Rielle thought, bristling. Is that what you’re implying?

Should I be worried that you won’t? Ludivine replied mildly.

The mysterious northern chamber returned to Rielle in flashes of sensation and sound: Corien’s voice, whispering her name. His arms tight around her. The frigid air, the velvet hugging her body. The thrill of his words and the promise they contained:

You would serve no one.

Freedom. Control. The empirium—hers to explore and possess, unfettered.

Did you speak to him recently? Ludivine’s thoughts felt startled. Rielle… You saw him. You touched him. You didn’t tell me.

Rielle’s surprise rattled them both. You didn’t know? You didn’t sense him?

No. I felt nothing.

But what does that mean?

Ludivine had no answer, and as they traveled across the choppy gray water in small dinghies, the sea spray misting their faces, she remained quiet, her mouth pinched and her thoughts closed to Rielle in a way that felt like reproach.

I don’t owe you every part of me, she told Ludivine.

Instead of answering, Ludivine clasped Rielle’s gloved hand more tightly in her own.

When they reached the shallows, they climbed out of the boats and walked ashore through thin sheets of foam that clung to the white sand—Rielle, Audric, Ludivine, Ilmaire, Ingrid, and a contingent of six guards.

Ingrid led the way, her blond braids and white fur cloak snapping furiously in the wind. The glower on her face was spectacular. She had wanted to bring a larger company, but Ilmaire had insisted they keep their party small to seem less threatening.

A few yards from the line of archers, they stopped, and Ilmaire made a show of laying down his sword. He raised his wrists, his castings catching the sunlight, and subdued the sea wind until he could easily speak over it.

“My name is Ilmaire Lysleva, crown prince of the kingdom of Borsvall,” he began, “and I come to you humbly in the name of Saint Grimvald the Mighty, and in the name of my father, King Hallvard Lysleva, requesting access to the Gate.”

The archers stood motionless, unresponsive. The foremost archer wore a long horn carved out of bone on a link of chains slung around his torso. Embroidered on his robe was a single symbol—a high, square tower capped with a single, unblinking eye.

Ingrid shifted restlessly.

Ilmaire gestured back at Rielle. “I bring with me Audric Courverie, crown prince of Celdaria; his cousin, Lady Ludivine Sauvillier; and Lady Rielle Dardenne, recently named Sun Queen—”

“We know who Lady Rielle is.” The foremost archer’s cold gaze flicked to Rielle, then Audric, and then to Ludivine. He stiffened. His eyes widened.

With a sharp gasp, Ludivine jerked as if struck.

Swiftly, the archer raised his bow and let a strange, copper-tipped arrow fly. Ludivine dodged it in time; instead of striking her heart, it hit her left shoulder. The impact sent her staggering back with a cry.

The air shimmered around her body, like faint ripples on the surface of a lake. The space around her body jerked and tightened before violently reversing course, like a swift, raging current. All the light and life seemed to rush out of her. The arrow glowed white-hot for a moment, then darkened.

She dropped flat to the ground.

Audric ran for her at once, Rielle just behind him. With a furious cry, Ingrid drew her sword and stepped between them and the line of archers.

Audric fell to his knees beside Ludivine and gathered her in his arms.

“Lu? Lu!” He brushed the sand from her face. “Say something!”

The archers raised their bows in unison and fired.

Rielle spun round, lightning in her veins. She flung up her arms and crossed them, forming a shield. The wind gathered at her command, forming a wall between her party and the approaching arrows. The gusting wall lit up, a gold sheet of fire, and when the arrows impacted it, they dissolved into ash and drifted in dark whorls to the sea.

Rielle smiled coldly at the archers, her arms rigid. The golden wall she had created shimmered in rhythm with her breathing. “If you move against any of us even once more, I will kill you where you stand.”

The head archer lowered his bow, the others following him.

“Ingrid, watch them,” Rielle snapped. “If they look like they’re going to shoot again, shoot them first.”

Ingrid gestured at her own archers, readying her sword with a hard grin. “With pleasure.”

Rielle knelt at Ludivine’s side. “Is she all right?”

Audric looked up at her, eyes bright, hands covered in Ludivine’s blood. “She’s not breathing. She’s gone utterly cold.”

“That’s not possible. She couldn’t have…” Rielle shook her head, her throat closing painfully. She could not believe it; she would not. “Even for an ordinary person, that shot wouldn’t have been fatal. Would it?”

“Nor would she have lost so much body heat so quickly.”

Ilmaire joined them. “An ordinary person? What do you mean?”

Audric peered at the arrow in Ludivine’s shoulder. “This arrow is odd.”

“What do you mean?” Rielle asked.

“Look at it.”

She did, noticing that the arrowhead was unusually long and hadn’t disappeared entirely into Ludivine’s body. Perhaps three inches of it protruded from her flesh. On its bright copper planes swirled shifting clouds of darkness and light, as if the arrowhead now contained a tangle of storms.

Rielle rose to face the head archer, barely stifling the urge to destroy him. “What did you do to her? What is this weapon?”

The archer approached, his expression flat as he regarded Ludivine’s prone form. “Were you ignorant of what she is, or did you know and keep the truth from us?”

Rielle’s stomach dropped.

Ilmaire looked back and forth between them. “What truth? What is he talking about?”

Rielle went still, flabbergasted, and the archer smiled grimly. “Ah. So you did know.”

“Audric, what is he talking about?” asked Ilmaire. o;We must be cautious, Audric,” Ilmaire urged. “They will not hesitate to protect the Gate.”

Ludivine spoke quietly, so the others couldn’t hear. “We aren’t in danger. They do not intend to shoot.” She paused. “For now.”

“That’s not very reassuring,” Audric muttered.

“Ilmaire is not wrong. They will not hesitate to protect the Gate from any perceived danger.”

So I have to control myself? Rielle thought, bristling. Is that what you’re implying?

Should I be worried that you won’t? Ludivine replied mildly.

The mysterious northern chamber returned to Rielle in flashes of sensation and sound: Corien’s voice, whispering her name. His arms tight around her. The frigid air, the velvet hugging her body. The thrill of his words and the promise they contained:

You would serve no one.

Freedom. Control. The empirium—hers to explore and possess, unfettered.

Did you speak to him recently? Ludivine’s thoughts felt startled. Rielle… You saw him. You touched him. You didn’t tell me.

Rielle’s surprise rattled them both. You didn’t know? You didn’t sense him?

No. I felt nothing.

But what does that mean?

Ludivine had no answer, and as they traveled across the choppy gray water in small dinghies, the sea spray misting their faces, she remained quiet, her mouth pinched and her thoughts closed to Rielle in a way that felt like reproach.

I don’t owe you every part of me, she told Ludivine.

Instead of answering, Ludivine clasped Rielle’s gloved hand more tightly in her own.

When they reached the shallows, they climbed out of the boats and walked ashore through thin sheets of foam that clung to the white sand—Rielle, Audric, Ludivine, Ilmaire, Ingrid, and a contingent of six guards.

Ingrid led the way, her blond braids and white fur cloak snapping furiously in the wind. The glower on her face was spectacular. She had wanted to bring a larger company, but Ilmaire had insisted they keep their party small to seem less threatening.

A few yards from the line of archers, they stopped, and Ilmaire made a show of laying down his sword. He raised his wrists, his castings catching the sunlight, and subdued the sea wind until he could easily speak over it.

“My name is Ilmaire Lysleva, crown prince of the kingdom of Borsvall,” he began, “and I come to you humbly in the name of Saint Grimvald the Mighty, and in the name of my father, King Hallvard Lysleva, requesting access to the Gate.”

The archers stood motionless, unresponsive. The foremost archer wore a long horn carved out of bone on a link of chains slung around his torso. Embroidered on his robe was a single symbol—a high, square tower capped with a single, unblinking eye.

Ingrid shifted restlessly.

Ilmaire gestured back at Rielle. “I bring with me Audric Courverie, crown prince of Celdaria; his cousin, Lady Ludivine Sauvillier; and Lady Rielle Dardenne, recently named Sun Queen—”

“We know who Lady Rielle is.” The foremost archer’s cold gaze flicked to Rielle, then Audric, and then to Ludivine. He stiffened. His eyes widened.

With a sharp gasp, Ludivine jerked as if struck.

Swiftly, the archer raised his bow and let a strange, copper-tipped arrow fly. Ludivine dodged it in time; instead of striking her heart, it hit her left shoulder. The impact sent her staggering back with a cry.

The air shimmered around her body, like faint ripples on the surface of a lake. The space around her body jerked and tightened before violently reversing course, like a swift, raging current. All the light and life seemed to rush out of her. The arrow glowed white-hot for a moment, then darkened.

She dropped flat to the ground.

Audric ran for her at once, Rielle just behind him. With a furious cry, Ingrid drew her sword and stepped between them and the line of archers.

Audric fell to his knees beside Ludivine and gathered her in his arms.

“Lu? Lu!” He brushed the sand from her face. “Say something!”

The archers raised their bows in unison and fired.

Rielle spun round, lightning in her veins. She flung up her arms and crossed them, forming a shield. The wind gathered at her command, forming a wall between her party and the approaching arrows. The gusting wall lit up, a gold sheet of fire, and when the arrows impacted it, they dissolved into ash and drifted in dark whorls to the sea.

Rielle smiled coldly at the archers, her arms rigid. The golden wall she had created shimmered in rhythm with her breathing. “If you move against any of us even once more, I will kill you where you stand.”

The head archer lowered his bow, the others following him.

“Ingrid, watch them,” Rielle snapped. “If they look like they’re going to shoot again, shoot them first.”

Ingrid gestured at her own archers, readying her sword with a hard grin. “With pleasure.”

Rielle knelt at Ludivine’s side. “Is she all right?”

Audric looked up at her, eyes bright, hands covered in Ludivine’s blood. “She’s not breathing. She’s gone utterly cold.”

“That’s not possible. She couldn’t have…” Rielle shook her head, her throat closing painfully. She could not believe it; she would not. “Even for an ordinary person, that shot wouldn’t have been fatal. Would it?”

“Nor would she have lost so much body heat so quickly.”

Ilmaire joined them. “An ordinary person? What do you mean?”

Audric peered at the arrow in Ludivine’s shoulder. “This arrow is odd.”

“What do you mean?” Rielle asked.

“Look at it.”

She did, noticing that the arrowhead was unusually long and hadn’t disappeared entirely into Ludivine’s body. Perhaps three inches of it protruded from her flesh. On its bright copper planes swirled shifting clouds of darkness and light, as if the arrowhead now contained a tangle of storms.

Rielle rose to face the head archer, barely stifling the urge to destroy him. “What did you do to her? What is this weapon?”

The archer approached, his expression flat as he regarded Ludivine’s prone form. “Were you ignorant of what she is, or did you know and keep the truth from us?”

Rielle’s stomach dropped.

Ilmaire looked back and forth between them. “What truth? What is he talking about?”

Rielle went still, flabbergasted, and the archer smiled grimly. “Ah. So you did know.”

“Audric, what is he talking about?” asked Ilmaire.