Unlocking Void (Book 3) (9 page)

Chapter 11

Gabriel spent his time before the Council meeting practicing Void patterns in his study. Among the shift, he learned a pattern that slipped into the brain and put someone to sleep—which Mikelle found unamusing—and a pierce-pinch pattern that touched nerves to cause pain—which Mikelle forbade. A disparage-shift pattern was a Void ward that prevented someone from shifting through it. Castle Jaden was covered in it, and the anti-disparage-shift ward set into his ring allowed him to pass through. Unfortunately, there were precious few other patterns recorded.

He shifted to Viorica to collect Queen Challis and very quickly appeared in Kilkiny Palace to grab his parents and return to Jaden. All three of them beamed when they saw him arrive without Lace’s aid.

The Council convened in their usual room, an oval hall painted in creams and gold with an oval table illuminated by a dozen long windows. Gabriel entered last per custom and could noticed the grins of his Council. It seemed word had nearly gotten around of his success, no doubt spurred on by his father. He stood between Lael and Mikelle as Lael read the binding rules to seal their meeting.

“Please sit,” Gabriel said. “By now my father has likely spoiled my surprise, but—”

“
Such
falsehood.” Cordis interjected.

“
But
, I have unlocked Void.” He punctuated the news by opening himself to the strange new Element, his eyes became white as the world’s colors reversed. The Council cheered in refined fashion, looking him over. He could feel the ends of his hair and corners of his cloak lift in an unseen wind.

“How was it done?” Adelaide asked as she reached out to touch him.

“I will not say, but it was struck from the records for a reason,” he replied and took her hand up securely. She gasped and looked around, the world projecting its afterimage on her. Her eyes, however, did not change color.

“Have you learned any beneficial patterns?” Markus asked.

“I’ll say,” Cordis replied.

“I have learned to shift, yes, and a few others.”

“This is grand news!” Penny exclaimed.

“I still have eight more books to peruse that I hope contain more Void patterns, but now is the time for us to hunker down and
really
search for more. I want a castle-wide search, and I want everyone to know what I’m looking for.” As he spoke, a few more Council Members reached out to touch him, each one gasping in turn.

“Any news on Ryker?” Galloway asked.

“No, but Maxine is alive.” The table fell silent. “Her face unknown, the gate guards let her in.”

The Council broke out in an uproar to a chorus of, “This should be a safe place,” and “What is stopping the rest from getting in?” and “Does anyone have portraits of the Arch Mages? No, of course not, so how can the guards know?”

“Some of our vaults might have them,” Lael offered.

Gabriel shook his head. “There was a sketch of Dorian, but it crumbled behind its glass. They died a thousand years ago. No one in that Age could fathom their return to life, and no one wanted to glorify them with portraits or marble busts.”

“What did Maxine look like? Were the stories true?” Cordis asked with a tone that got a swift kick across the table from Aisling. Gabriel failed to hide the grin and simply closed his eyes and nodded. “You dog.”

“What did she want with you?” Markus asked.

He shrugged a shoulder. “She pulled my hair.”

“Kinky,” Cordis cut in, and Aisling kicked him again.

“
And
took a few strands. I don’t know why.” Gabriel continued.

“What is your next step?” Adelaide asked.

“To learn as much about Void as possible, to fortify the castle if needs be, and to continue training. I want you all to do the same. Have any wards been tripped in the past week?”

The Council shook their heads. Each wore a ring around their middle fingers that tied to a trip-ward somewhere outside the castle. If anyone tried to get in without going through the gates, they would know. Only Lael and Mikelle had wards to other rooms. Lael held onto the vault and treasury wards while Mikelle kept wards on Gabriel’s room doors. Each time someone passed through a door, she knew.

“Dagan, are there any reports of specters we can address?” Gabriel asked.

Since the death of Councilman Kieran, his wife Lilly and their two children Addley and Jamie were killed, Dagan had made it his mission to hunt and kill all the specters. He and his wife adopted Liam, Kieran’s only surviving child Dagan was able to make off with before the specter got him. As far as everyone knew, specters walked haphazardly and sprung up everywhere, each with warped Mage capabilities.

“My north team isolated an Earth specter turning glass on people, and my southern team finally stopped a female Water specter from turning people to ice. Of my remaining teams I have no updates.” There were four teams sent out containing one Mage of every Element. People had been very reluctant to leave the safety of the castle, but Gabriel insisted Jaden handle the problem since all the specters were Mages when living.

The Council continued discussing everything from the upcoming Classing of Mage-selects to foodstuffs stored for winter. The conversation was tedious but necessary to keep the lands safe. As they droned on, Gabriel slipped unwillingly into his memories as he usually did when he lost focus. His thoughts drifted between Robyn and the Arconians as they had done over the past day and a half.

He realized the room had fallen quiet and scrambled to remember the last thing said. “I have nothing further.”

Lael nodded and made closing remarks before dismissing them. He put a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder once everyone left. “You look a little lost.”

Gabriel grimaced. “Give me time.”

Without Gabriel, the days in Kilkiny passed without event. Robyn reminded herself he had been absent for months, so the past week was no different. Even then, she always had a hope that he would blast through her door.

It had taken a few days of mulling for her to realize she had been at fault and should have handled the situation much better. She could not imagine banishing that man from her life forever, so she would give him a few more days before she summoned him to explain herself. She was still blindingly angry that he laid with the Arconians
and
lied about it. His purity was something she never questioned, but now that it was sullied it changed the way she looked at marriage. She would always question if she was adequate or wonder where his thoughts were.

What she
truly
wanted to know was why he claimed he had no choice.
‘Was it done before or after his breaking? Was there more I could not fathom?’

“Have you chosen a second color for your dress, Your Grace?”

The question brought Robyn out of her reverie. She stood in her dressing room on a pedestal as two seamstresses pinned and hemmed the half-finished dress she wore. A younger seamstress held swatches of fabric before her with a questioning look.

“The smoke-gray,” she answered.

“Lovely choice with green, Your Grace.”

The women finished their pinning and unlaced the back, helping her step out and redress into a dark blue one. Robyn was not terribly fond of dresses since she spent time in the liberating leggings and tunics, but they were beautiful and made her feel regal.

It was an unusually mild day for winter, and she opted to take tea on her terrace that overlooked the courtyard in the center of the palace. Much of the area was taken over by a garden, but half of it died with the frost, showing the earth and stone beneath. However, something far more interesting than dying brush caught her eye today. Far below soldiers practiced.

A circle of men gathered to watch a swords spar, and though she was too high up to recognize faces, she knew one.

Prince Virgil was stripped to the waist wielding a sword with a slight curve to the tip against one of the palace soldiers. Virgil moved with expert precision and force, and while Robyn did not know much of swordplay, she knew about defense and attack well enough to observe with scrutiny. She also wanted desperately to join them.

It had been too long since she picked up her bow. There had been a few times where she snuck out to the archery range, but guards always followed her and attracted a crowd. There was no privacy left. Unless….

She rushed back to her dressing room, pulling at the laces of her dress and nearly ripped them apart as she yanked the garment over her head. Stashed in the back of her wardrobe were a few pairs of leggings, blouses and tunics. She quickly dressed, selecting a brown tunic. She laced her boots in a flash, remembering for a moment that Gabriel made them, and secured a long green cloak to her shoulders.

She snatched up her bow and quiver, and marched into her study. An Arconian guard stood at her door and gave her a surprised look, half-drawing his sword thinking her an intruder.

“Follow at a distance,” she stated. Blessedly, Aisling was out of the palace today and would not catch her. The Advisor had made it clear that Robyn should be presentable as a Queen at all times.

She took the least used stairwells quickly, winding her way through the palace until she reached the courtyard. She could hear the carousing of soldiers now, and the idea of adventure quickened her blood. Reaching the circle, she pushed her way to the front, small enough to duck through the men.

Virgil and his opponent dripped with sweat as they took precise strikes at each other. Both had a few nicks that mixed blood with sweat. Robyn could not help but stare at the Prince. He had the body of a man who had to be powerful or die, and his tan skin was riddled with tiny pale scars, proof he had earned his standing. He had muscles in places Robyn didn’t know there could be muscle, especially up his stomach and down his back.
‘Sweet stars, he looks like a sculpture.’

“I yield!” the opponent suddenly yelled. Congratulating each other with a nod, they broke away.

“Who’s next?” someone called.

“Give me a break this time,” Virgil joked, bent over with his hands on his knees. “All these Anatolians are too fast.”

One of Robyn’s soldiers stepped into the circle wielding two long knives, and a new battle began with the ring of steel. For a man of Virgil’s size, he was surprisingly agile. Robyn compared him to Gabriel more and more often. Gabriel was not so agile because he never needed to be. He just needed to stand in one place.

Virgil took a cut to his forearm but succeeded in victory over the soldier. “Next—and make it easy.”

“How about archery?” someone yelled. Robyn looked behind her to see her Arconian soldier grinning.

Virgil nodded. “Someone bring me a bow. Who am I to battle?” Robyn stepped forward, keeping her head down. “Very good. Set a target.”

The soldiers bowed into a horseshoe shape, and others threw targets out consisting of swords, knives, and a few articles of clothing. Virgil went first, shooting a longbow. Robyn watched as the muscles in his torso and arm flexed, pulling the heavy draw. It was a weapon she could never pull, and he released an arrow to land accurately. She pulled a recurve bow without a heavy draw, and her shot landed too short.

Virgil said nothing, aiming for the next target and hitting the hilt of a knife stuck in the loam with a heavy
‘twang!’
Robyn readjusted for the target, taking into account her strength had diminished since she did not shoot regularly, and this time struck much closer.

The third target was a shirt. “Is that mine?” Virgil asked as he aimed. “Let us try not to put holes in it.” His arrow landed just before the garment. Robyn’s landed right beside his, her accuracy returned.

The targets retreated at twenty paces, and each time the two of them released twin shots. The further they back they went; the more they had to adjust for wind and gravity. It was not long before both shot high in the air.
‘Stars, you’re distracting,’
she thought as she watched him shoot.

They reached the end of the field, each hitting the targets expertly, and found themselves with nothing else to shoot. “Well?” Virgil asked, leaning on the bow. “Wait for a bird to fly past?”

She nodded, notching an arrow, but there was no waiting to be had. She knew where the crows roosted in the trees. A well-directed arrow shot into the evergreens and brought a chorus of angry birds flocking to the skies. She had hunted birds many times when land prey was scarce. This time she snatched one of Virgil’s arrows, notched, aimed, and let fly before she could blink. However, as she leaned back to take proper aim, her hood slipped off and her blonde braid spilled out. Virgil took his own shot, and they watched as two crows fell to the earth.

He turned when the crowd did not congratulate them and stopped suddenly. Robyn grinned. He gaped for words and finally pointed to the field. “Someone fetch the birds.”

She stepped closer. “Let not your pride be wounded.”

“I will concede my pride if you were the better shot.”

She shook her head. “I would not embarrass you in front of your men. I shot mine through the eye. Your arrow went through the belly, but they will never know.” She gave him a polite nod and gracefully glided through the men to find her guard. She made it a few yards, and she heard Virgil laughing. She turned to see him holding two identically-fletched arrows pierced through birds—one through the belly and the other through the eye.