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  Sworn To Transfer

  ( Courtlight - 2 )

  Terah Edun

  Eighteen-year-old companion trainee Ciardis Weathervane has won the friendship of the royal heir and saved his claim to the throne. Yet her interference in the inheritance rights leaves more harm done than good. The Ameles Forest lies unprotected and its inhabitants are dying.

  As humans begin to die in gruesome deaths, the Emperor dispatches the royal heir to the forests with the solution to the kith concerns.

  With enemies closing ranks in Sandrin, Ciardis can little afford to leave the city’s nest of vipers to take on a new task. But she’s given no choice when her loyalty to the crown and courts are called into question.

  To keep the Companions’ Guild happy and the favor of the Imperial Court, Ciardis will be tested in frightening new ways, especially when she’s faced with an obstacle that could risk the lives of her friends and the family she never thought she had.

  Sworn To Transfer

  Courtlight - 2

  by

  Terah Edun

  Chapter 1

  A storm was rolling in off the coast of Sandrin. Heavy rains buffeted the docks and high winds whipped the ends of coiled loops of thick sailor’s rope up into the air across the deck of the large ship. Ciardis Weathervane huddled miserably as she felt the ice-cold wind and rain buffeting her every few minutes in steady waves. First the cold rain would slice into her face, and then a heavy stream of frosty air would strike, pushing her cloak back and soaking her front. Still, she stayed where she was, and she fought not to shiver under the thick blue cloak that she wore.

  Prince Sebastian wasn’t far from her side. If you could call across the ship with dozens of soldiers between them “not far.” It was the closest he’d been to her in weeks, though. Ciardis felt her heart clench just a little when she thought about that. The distance that seemed to have grown between the two of them wasn’t only physical. Shaking off her nerves and turning from the railing where she gazed pensively down into the gray, churning water of the ocean, she took in the gathering around her.

  To her left stood a living hedge with hair, eyes, chattering teeth, and she was sure, frozen fingers. The guards stood at attention in neat rows with upright pikes in their right hands, their left hands gripping sheathed swords at their waists, and their golden armor dripping wet in the downpour. Staring stoically ahead to a man—and woman—the Prince Heir’s guard didn’t flinch at the monstrous sound of thunder and lightning cracking down over the ocean to the east of the ship.

  Until ten minutes ago, Ciardis had been standing under the shelter provided by the Weather Mage traveling in the Prince Heir’s retinue. She’d left to get some air, frustrated with her own self-doubt. It had been three months since she and Prince Sebastian had killed the Princess Heir. Three months since they’d danced on the beach in the glowing afternoon. She was trying hard to focus on her life now as a Companion trainee. But it was kind of hard to focus when you didn’t know where you stood.

  The Patron Hunt had been put on indefinite hold. Partially because having a Prince Heir as an interested party took precedence above all other candidates. Not that there hadn’t been some grumbling among her other candidates, but Ciardis had not objected to the Prince Heir’s monopoly. After politely sending notifications to all of her suiters, she had waited with growing impatience to hear from the Imperial Courts. Becoming a Companion to a Prince wasn’t just his decision, a lot of protocol was involved and many other people held sway. She had tried to talk to Sebastian about it. But other than acknowledging his prominance as her premier candidate, nothing had been said.

  And now she was stuck right back where she’d started. They hadn’t formalized their contract as Patron and Companion. Hell, they hadn’t even had discussions on what it meant. Oh she knew in theory from history what being a Companion to a powerful member of the imperial family would mean. But Sebastian hadn’t asked her. He hadn’t asked her if she wanted to stand by his side, rule in his stead in far-flung places, or act as his advisor in tempestuous times.

  Instead he just seemed to prefer avoiding her like the plague and attending to whatever duties his father handed out. They had a relationship she would agree, but she couldn’t say what kind. By the seven gods, in the past three months she’d spent less than three weeks in the Prince Heir’s presence. His duties had kept him busy at his father’s side in court functions and hers had kept her attending gala after gala. In coming out into the cold sea air and rain, she’d hoped to clear her mind of her worry over that bowl of worms as well as a long list of enemies that saw fit to make her life miserable. Her life in the Imperial Courts was turning out to be a never-ending series of crises. Mostly because of Sebastian – even if he wasn’t currently talking to her.

  A moment later a horn blast came from the front of ship.

  That horn was the sound that called for all people aboard to take their proper places. She went forward while wishing that the ambassador flying in by delegation had elected to hold their meeting anywhere else. Preferably a place that was warm.

  I wonder if they’re coming in by winged horse? The pegasi steeds would have to be very strong to withstand the fierce winds of this storm. Another ship would be more likely. Aside from that, she wondered where the ambassador would be flying in from. No one had said a word about which country this mysterious delegation was representing.

  As she reached the edge of the square block that made up the bulk of the Prince Heir’s guard, she saw the wind shield—the large dome that took up the front half of the ship. It was only visible due to the harsh rain bouncing off and pouring down its sides. In the meantime, as Ciardis stood there taking in the retinue surrounding the Prince Heir, her hair was getting soaked and the cloak over the rest of her was starting to stick to her skin. It had a water repellant spell on it, but that only worked in lighter rains. This was turning into a downpour.

  It was nothing compared to the turmoil in her heart.

  Peering ahead she had an unobstructed view of the Prince. Across Sebastian’s armor, runes glimmered with an iridescent light briefly, like a firefly in the night air, before the luminance would disappear in one spot and reappear in another on the metalwork. She stood still, staring at it, mesmerized for a second. She’d never lost the ability to see another’s magic and had even gained a better grasp of sight into another mage’s core—a Weathervane ability, according to Artis. A beautiful red cloak hung from Sebastian’s shoulders, and he’d pushed it back from his left shoulder so that it hung at an angle. He wore a white, long-sleeved shirt between his skin and the chest plate and loose brown leather pants encased his legs.

  As Ciardis stepped through the shield put up by the Weather Mage, she smiled and nodded over to him with that smile. As she turned to look around, from her right a woman stepped forward. She had previously stayed in the shadows and Ciardis had yet to get a good look at her. Ciardis paused what she was doing, her mind aflurry with disbelief. Even in the middle of the ocean on the deck of a ship, this woman was stunning. But that wasn’t why Ciardis’s pulse pounded in her ears and her eyes stayed glued to the woman coming forward. Power was radiating from her in the same way heat radiated from a roaring fire.

  The woman wore a red dress with white stitching down the front and her hair flowed in waves of amber down her back. The dress, the color of the dark red heat of a coal fire, was more than just elegant; it was the garment of a Fire Mage. Impervious to heat and fire, the weave was one that she knew well from her days as a laundress. Smith and metalwork clans heading north to supply the war had bought the fabric for their sons and daughters. It had to be meticulously handstitched and was so resistant to heat that if its owners walked into a blazing potter’s kiln, not
a mark would appear on them. She’d seen it happen once.

  Ciardis felt the press of the wet cloak on her cold, bare arms. She began to shiver and in doing so broke the magnetic hold of the woman before her. She felt like a drowned rat in front of the woman, who chose that moment to speak.

  “Ciardis Weathervane?” said the woman as she placed her hands over Ciardis’s left hand, stilling it from its quest to increase circulation and warmth in the opposite arm. Ciardis felt unease drip down her spin. She still couldn’t get used to people she’d never met before recognizing her.

  Mirth lit up in the woman’s eyes for a moment as she said, “It’s your eyes. Even from a distance there aren’t so many around here with that color – golden like a finch’s wings.” Ciardis nodded as surprise began to overtake her unease. The woman’s warm touch on her hand was nice. Heat had begun to rise off in stronger waves from the woman’s skin; it was as if Ciardis stood next to the open door of a stove with fire-lit coals inside.

  Respect began to build in her. She knew that for a mage to call this much heat in the middle of a storm-tossed ocean would take lots of power. The clash of the elements alone should have prevented the woman from doing all but the most basic tasks with her fire element.

  Ciardis looked down at her hands, curious to see if the waves of heat were visible in the cold, miserable, gray morning. She couldn’t quite contain a gasp of astonishment, which she quickly turned into a cough into her fisted right hand.

  Ciardis watched in fascination as the heat emanated off the woman’s skin and flowed with perfect control into her own body which welcomed it. Looking closely at the woman’s magic, Ciardis traced the magic to the core. It was as bright as a sun, even on such a dreary and rainy day.

  Snapping out of her reverie, Ciardis remembered that the woman had come over to question who she was. Although it felt more like an issue of confirmation than a query.

  “Yes, and you are?”

  “Linda Firelancer,” the woman said in a low voice that barely echoed over the crash of waves on the ship.

  There was nothing in the woman’s tone that said she bore Ciardis any ill will or why she’d walked over. But that name was enough to still Ciardis and bring back flashing memories of the night Damias had died at the hands of the Princess Heir – hell bent on killing Ciardis and those with her for interfering in the inheritance rights.

  As she stared at the woman before her, chestnut hair falling in waves and gentle hands still capturing Ciardis’s own, she didn’t quite know what to think of the sparks that blazed in Linda’s eyes. Was it the spark of retribution or the sign of a fiery soul? In her mind’s eye Ciardis could still see the woman’s magic rippling across her hands in an intricate dance. The same heat could turn into a fiery inferno and incinerate Ciardis into a pile of ash, if she had been so inclined.

  She hadn’t, although Ciardis wasn’t so sure she would have made the same decision, had she been in the woman’s place. The silence stretched with a grim tension that could not be overlooked.

  Ciardis bit her lip anxiously as she searched the eyes of the woman whose husband she had watched die.

  Finally she said, “I’m sorry for your loss. I sent flowers... Damias was a wonderful man and instructor.”

  “Thank you, I loved him with all my heart.” Careful and considerate.

  “I hope you know that I did everything in my power to help him. We were ambushed and neither of us could have anticipated how the night would unfold.”

  “I wish I had been there. Princess Heir Marissa would not have survived the night,” Linda said with a coldness that made Ciardis think that she might have ice rather than fire running through her veins.

  “Yes,” said Ciardis, “I...would have wished that, too. I wanted to greet you at the funeral, but...”

  “I wasn’t there,” said Linda with a small shake of her head. “I was still on the emperor’s assignment when I heard the news. I have made my peace in my own way—honoring his life at the shrines along the road.”

  Ciardis nodded in understanding as Linda stepped away.

  “It was good to meet you, Ciardis. I wanted to give you my greetings personally and extend an invitation to converse further about what we had and still have in common, but for now you should join the Prince Heir,” Linda said as she turned to take her place with the honor guard.

  Ciardis nodded as another streak of lightning cracked overhead and the ship swayed in the ocean. As she turned toward Sebastian, she caught a glimpse of the Weather Mage frantically whispering to himself and pouring magic from his hands out into the surrounding ocean. The ship soon stopped swaying and the man visibly wiped his brow in relief.

  Walking toward Sebastian, Ciardis noted with gratitude that not only was she warm, but her clothes were also perfectly dry. Tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear, she glanced over at the Fire Mage in appreciation.

  Then she took her place near Sebastian’s side: to his right and two steps behind, as protocol demanded.

  The honor guard, generals, and other courtiers arrayed themselves around them, and behind all of those on the dry deck the Imperial soldiers stood at attention in the rain. Ciardis frowned in dismay. She might not be as close to Sebastian as she once had been, but at least she could get him to listen to her.

  Keeping her voice low, but loud enough to reach Sebastian’s ear, she said, “Why can’t the Weather Mage extend the bubble just a little? It’s pouring rain and the lightning is worsening. The soldiers are getting soaked and must be freezing.”

  Sebastian stared straight ahead at the turbulent sea, the deck only moving slightly under their feet. Another effect from the Weather Mage no doubt, she mused.

  “And their armor will rust!” she added in an attempt to show a practical reason for her concern.

  “Their armor is weather and heat resistant. They’ll be fine; as new officers, they need to prove themselves to their leaders,” Sebastian said. He didn’t turn his green eyes on her but she imagined they were hard and distant as they watched the water churn in the dark storm outside.

  “Oh, yeah, standing in the pouring rain is a great way to prove your worth.”

  “It shows discipline and fortitude.”

  “It shows mindless sheep and a leader who doesn’t care for the comfort of his troops,” Ciardis retorted.

  “Enough,” came a baritone voice from the Prince Heir’s left. Ciardis cringed but continued to stare straight ahead. She wasn’t yet ready to give up on this topic, but neither was she willing to argue with the second-in-command of the Imperial forces.

  From the corner of her eye she saw a small tic in Sebastian’s right eye. Good, he’s irritated, she thought. He should be!

  For the moment she watched the harsh play of wind and rain as it struck the wind barrier encasing their little group. She smoothed her pursed mouth into a more acceptable smile and awaited their guest with composure.

  It wouldn’t be long now.

  Chapter 2

  Out of the distant sky a roar sounded. It was the kind of roar that heralded trouble and made Ciardis itch for a decent crossbow. Over the last two months she had been expanding her Defense tutorials to include archery, practice with a staff as well as a glaive, and the all-important fan. She’d been taking archery lessons with the Weapons Initiates of the Imperial Guard. She knew the guard as a whole regarded her fumbling attempts to load the arrows into the crossbow with amusement. Most of the men there had been knocking arrows and hunting game since they were children. The fact that her arrow wobbled and struck dirt more often than it hit a target didn’t help, either. But her aim was getting better every day.

  But regardless of her clumsiness, knocking the arrow, and getting off a shot, even she couldn’t possibly miss a target this large. With a roar like that, it had to be as big as the ship. A sea monster, maybe? But no, the sound had come from up above. And of course if she so much as twitched out of step, she’d never hear the end of it from Sebastian and the Companions’ G
uild leadership. Protocol was everything to them.

  Her heart beat fast as she strained her eyes to pierce the clouds in the sky. It was an overcast day, and it was hard to see anything farther than ten feet in front of the ship with such a heavy rain. Out of the corner of her eye she saw something, a glint or glimmer on the eastern starboard. She kept looking out of the corner of her right eye. She really wanted to just stuff the protocol and turn to the right, but damned if she did it before anyone else did.

  Then an excited murmur came from the man just behind her. The members of his row began to angle themselves so that they could see the right side of the ship, and Ciardis turned obediently with eagerness. They watched as the gossamer layers of cloud began to push outward and part before the massive form that flew through them. Scales, wings, and a flaming mouth peeked through in small glimpses that had Ciardis aching for a strong wind to push the dense clouds out of the way. She couldn’t stop a gasp of delight from escaping her mouth when she saw the massive form begin to descend out of the cloud layer. First a claw appeared, then an arm, and finally the full body came into view.

  As a dragon emerged out of the harsh fall sky, Ciardis could see that it was resplendent. Even from a distance, its scales—a brilliant emerald green—shone as if a thousand suns were above the dragon’s mighty form instead of this dull and gray day overcast with rolling thunder, clouds, and rain. As it drew closer, Ciardis felt the flesh on her skin rise in alarm. Goosebumps arose on her upper arms under the cloak and at the nape of her neck. Her magic was reacting to the presence of not only the mages surrounding her, but also the oncoming dragon—a being that could best be described as living magic.

  The dragon’s mighty roar sounded again as it swiftly banked its wings to glide in and land...on nothing? Sahalia’s dragons were kith, magical beings of non-human form that could wield some sort of power over the elements around them. Of course, that was what the humans called anything they didn’t understand and couldn’t beat with a stick.