Shadows of Kings (The Kin of Kings Book 3) Read online

  Contents

  COPYRIGHT

  MAPS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  NEW RELEASES

  AUTHOR INFORMATION

  SHADOWS OF KINGS

  Copyright 2016 by B.T. Narro

  Cover Art by Beatriz Garrido: www.beatrizggarrido.wix.com/illustrator

  Maps by Annette Tremblay

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is coincidental.

  All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the express written permission of the copyright holder.

  CHAPTER ONE

  There was no time. Water splashed everywhere as Sanya gripped the basin by the sides and waddled over to the mirror in her room. She sat on her heels and threw water onto her cheeks and forehead, rubbing vigorously. She noticed Lori walk into the room after her, emotionless and slow as usual.

  “Get me the towel, Mother. Please,” Sanya said.

  Lori obliged without a word. Sanya took the towel and rubbed the remaining dirt and water off her face as best she could.

  “A comb, please,” Sanya urged, annoyed that Lori wasn’t offering to help.

  Lori handed her the comb. “I don’t understand why you wish to get involved with the Takarys again. Tauwin wants us dead.”

  “This is the only opportunity we’ll have to change the course of our lives.” Sanya cringed as the brush continued to get snagged. Her brown hair was long and thick and could be beautiful when she had time to wash and braid it. Thanks to the salt-laden wind, however, it was a complete mess.

  But Lori’s hair was somehow still lustrous and kempt. The woman had natural beauty. Sometimes when Sanya looked at her, she couldn’t find a single similarity between the mother Sanya remembered and this woman standing in front of her with crossed arms and an apathetic look that never left her youthful face.

  “You’re voluntarily getting involved in a war in which both sides want you dead,” Lori argued. “It makes little sense.”

  Sanya half expected her mother to offer advice as she used to do when Sanya was young, but Lori said no more. The reality was that Lori was still lost. She’d been gone from this world for years only to be brought back in a different body with unfamiliar memories. She just needed more time to find herself. Sanya reminded herself of this to calm down whenever she became frustrated.

  “There are about to be three sides to this war,” Sanya explained as she dressed in her best blouse. “The newest side will boast the most powerful army, and I’m about to be the most valued asset to its leader.”

  “How do you expect to accomplish that? With psyche and a tease of cleavage?” Lori’s normally passive face displayed a rare trace of emotion as she glanced with disapproval at Sanya’s chest.

  “I have much to offer Ulric Takary and need not rely on lust like I did with Tauwin. I know everything he’ll want to know.” Sanya grabbed a bag that held the few belongings she owned. She had to intercept Ulric as soon as he left his ship, for he would certainly head toward the castle, where she would be killed on sight.

  “What do you think will happen after you tell him what you know?” Lori pressed. “He’ll get rid of you. Or worse, he’ll give you up to Tauwin.”

  “I don’t have time to explain, but I have it under control. It might be a day or two before I return. Please do your work on the boat and tell them I’ve become ill.”

  Lori sighed. “Will there be more death?”

  Sanya knew Lori was really asking if she would kill anyone else. It had been the sorest subject since Sanya had brought her mother back to the world of the living. Every time it came up, Sanya felt more of her heart tearing apart. Lori was supposed to be the one person who understood that Sanya had done what she had to do for them to reunite, but Lori seemed more judgmental about Sanya’s actions than anyone.

  “No,” Sanya lied. “There will be no more death.” She took out a scroll she’d been nervous to give to her mother. “I’d hoped there would be more time to explain this, but take it.”

  Lori did so without interest. “Is this what you’ve been trying to keep from me?”

  Sanya smiled at seeing a flash of her real mother, who’d always been more observant than she let on.

  “Yes. It’s a list of memories I have of us when I was a child. Happy memories,” she made a point to add, for there had been many sad ones as her father began experimenting on her. “I want you to read them and try to remember them.”

  Lori let out a long breath of disappointment. “I already told you. The only memories I can recall belong to this woman.” She gestured at her body like it didn’t belong to her. No matter how many times Sanya had tried to convince Lori that this beautiful young body was hers now, she couldn’t seem to accept it. Her mother pointed at the scroll. “These memories won’t do anything because I’m not that woman anymore.”

  “You are.” Sanya barely held back her anger. Why wouldn’t Lori just try? “You feel like a different person because you haven’t gotten used to your body yet and your mind is flooded with memories that aren’t yours. But I’ve figured out the solution. Our memories are what give our life meaning. Without them, we feel like we’re nothing. So you just need to remember who you were to rediscover who you are.”

  Lori tossed the scroll on the bed they shared as if it didn’t matter. “I’m already Bliss—this young woman whose body you stole from her.”

  Sanya inhaled deeply, struggling to overcome her frustration, then wrapped her mother in a hug. She bent Lori’s bastial energy with psyche to give her an open mind.

  If Sanya had learned anything over all the years of looking into people’s minds, it was that the more stubborn they were, the less likely they were to let themselves be happy. And Lori’s despair had become infectious during the time they’d spent together. If Sanya didn’t do something to change Lori’s mood soon, they’d both be miserable.

  “You are not Bliss. You are Lori, my mother. You love me as much as I love you, and you’ll see that soon.” Sanya held her mother for a moment longer. “I’ll come back for you.”

  Relief came over her as Lori squeezed her back. “All right, Sanya. Just be careful.”

  She wiped away a tear of joy as she rushed out of the inn.

  *****

  Cleve couldn’t help but notice that Vithos seemed to have made many friends during his time at the Elven village. Dozens, including some Krepps, surrounded Vithos and wouldn’t let him leave until they said goodbye.

  But Vithos, like Cleve, was eager to get back to Kyrro. Reela would be overjoyed to see her brother again. The whole Academy will be overjoyed to see him, Cleve realized. Vithos was the strongest living psychic. Having him join their side would give everyone hope.

  But then Cleve remembered Sanya and cringed. He hadn’t seen her sinc
e she’d stabbed Basen and escaped from the Academy. He hoped that whatever she’d been doing, it wasn’t aiding his enemies.

  The Krepps had agreed earlier that day to join Cleve’s side in this war. There were about three hundred of them, but their size and strength made it feel like a whole lot more.

  Cleve smiled as a group of Elves wheeled over heaps of armor for the Krepps. He wasn’t sure he liked what they agreed upon for all this finely crafted steel—that Basen would return in a week to help Fatholl with some secret task—but it seemed worth it.

  Cleve caught Basen’s mouth agape as his eyes swept across their small army.

  “What’s wrong?” Cleve asked.

  “I’m not sure if I can hold a portal open long enough for all of them to pass through.”

  “You seemed more confident last night.”

  “Three hundred Krepps sounded like less.”

  Cleve didn’t know what to tell Basen to relieve the pressure. It was extremely important for their entire army to make it through the portal before Basen let it shut. Whoever was left behind would have to wait days for the akorell stone to charge again. Cleve couldn’t sit around in Tenred’s castle waiting for them. The Academy needed allies weeks ago.

  Hopefully the Krepps and the men who Cleve will recruit from Tenred will make their trip worth the time it took.

  Alabell walked over and took responsibility for easing Basen’s mind. “You’re continuing to surprise me with what you’re capable of,” she said. “No one expects you to hold the portal open long enough for everyone. Just do what you can.”

  Cleve did expect Basen to hold the portal open long enough but decided not to say anything.

  “Vithos,” Basen said, “explain to the Krepps what the portal will look like, and tell them it’s safe to enter.”

  This meant Basen was ready. They’d gone over their plan and described the portal to Vithos before meeting with the Krepps in the center of the village, where they were surrounded by more spectators than Cleve would’ve liked. It was complicated enough to usher a few hundred Krepps through a portal without a swarm of Elves in the way.

  Vithos cleared his throat and bellowed, “Unless you’re coming with us, move out of the way.”

  The few who understood common tongue spread the message. Soon it was just Cleve, Basen, Vithos, Annah, Alabell, Rickik and his Krepps, and a stern-looking Fatholl, who sauntered over to Basen.

  “I know,” Basen said before the Elf leader could speak. “I’ll be back. Now let me concentrate.”

  “Very well.” Fatholl made room like the rest of them.

  “Ready, everyone?” Basen asked.

  Cleve would be the first one in, with Annah and Vithos right behind him. It was up to the three of them to manage Rickik and his Krepps in the busy kitchen of Tenred’s castle.

  It would be mayhem.

  “We ready,” Rickik answered.

  Basen took one last long breath and then let out a grunt as he pointed his wand forward. Nothing happened as he held his arm steady. The bright akorell bracelet on his wrist was painful to look at directly, but Cleve dared not blink. As soon as the portal was open, he would run inside without a moment to waste.

  It happened all at once: Basen screaming, the light of the akorell stone disappearing, and a shimmering sphere ripping open. It was just big enough for Cleve to fit as he ran and jumped to get his feet up into it.

  Dizziness overtook him. He ended up on the floor as he heard shouting. He figured out which way was up, then fought against the vertigo to stand. But just as he was turning around to locate the portal, someone tumbled into his legs and took him down.

  Rickik hissed in his ear as their limbs became tangled. The Krepp seemed to have the same dizziness and confusion Cleve had just suffered, not knowing which end was up and grabbing onto Cleve’s legs for balance.

  “Let go,” Cleve said as he fought against Rickik’s hold to face the portal. Krepps were pouring out of it, tumbling across the floor while hissing and spitting as they piled on top of each other. They desperately needed guidance. Cleve got his legs out of Rickik’s grasp and started pushing Krepps away from the portal to make room for more. Their rough, scaly skin felt like tree bark, while the thin black hair atop their heads was as soft as a feather.

  They didn’t seem to like him touching them, many clawing at him like angry cats. Unable to stop, he could do nothing but ignore the pain as they ripped his clothes with their claws.

  As the last of the kitchen staff ran out of the room and relative quiet came upon Cleve’s ears, he realized the fleeing humans had been screaming the whole time. No doubt guards would arrive soon.

  To Cleve’s horror, Rickik hurried out of the kitchen and shouted something in Kreppen that made the other Krepps follow him.

  “Stop!” Cleve yelled after him, only to be ignored.

  Annah and Vithos, the two very necessary psychics of their group, had come in right after Cleve, but they’d taken longer to recover from the dizziness. They’d just begun helping him clear the Krepps from the portal and would have to take full responsibility now as Cleve chased after Rickik.

  “I’ll bring him back,” Cleve told them.

  He shoved his way through the Krepps following Rickik, trying to get to the front.

  “Stop!” Cleve tried again. “Where are you going?”

  “To find son to me,” Rickik yelled back.

  Nebre—of course. The young Krepp was supposed to be in this castle.

  Cleve gritted his teeth in anger. If Rickik had informed them earlier he was going to search for his son, they could’ve prepared for this better. Instead, Cleve found himself pushing through countless Krepps—all his size or bigger, except for the few females who were closer to the size of an average human man—and these Krepps did not like to be pushed. They shoved him back, some practically throwing him against the hallway wall while others knocked down decorative paintings and tables with vases of flowers.

  Ahead of them, Cleve could hear what sounded like more of the castle staff, all screaming for guards because Krepps had invaded the castle.

  “Rickik!” Cleve shouted. “They think we’re enemies. You have to let me get to the front so I can explain.”

  “Only if you tell me where is son to me.”

  “I don’t know. He might not even be in the castle any longer. The best way to find out is to let me ask them.”

  “Cleve?” Annah yelled from somewhere behind him.

  “Up here.” He turned around and tried to spot her among the sea of Krepps. “Is everything all right?”

  “Krepps are helping clear room around the portal now,” she answered. “They don’t need us anymore. Vithos is with me.”

  “Try to get to the front.”

  Cleve made some progress, getting by several Krepps as their small army followed Rickik. The lead Krepp seemed to take random turns down castle halls and refused to listen to Cleve’s orders to stop.

  Rickik yelled in Kreppen, and Cleve picked up Nebre’s name among the words, many sounding rather harsh. It was a good chance that was just because of their rough language.

  Soon the Krepps ahead of him came to a halt and drew their weapons.

  Tenred’s guards!

  Cleve cursed under his breath and fought to get through, though so did all the Krepps. They desperately wanted to be at the front, using their superior strength and size to shove Cleve. He struggled just to stay on his feet, knowing if he fell he would be trampled.

  “Wait!” Cleve yelled to the unseen guards ahead. “They’re with me, Cleve Polken. We’re allies of Kyrro. No one attack!”

  All the Krepps seemed to hold after Rickik commanded them to in his language. But the aggression in their yellow eyes clearly showed a fight was what most of them wanted.

  Damn Krepps. Cleve already regretted recruiting them.

  “Cleve?” a familiar voice asked ahead of him. “Where are you?”

  “Here.” He lowered his voice to mutter to the Krepp
s around him. “Let me through, dammit.”

  They seemed to understand enough to make some room, though he could barely squeeze by the massive bodies of the lizard-men.

  Annah had caught up to him by the time he got to the front, most likely by using her small size to slip through the crowd. An army of Tenred guards, mostly swordsmen, stood clustered in the hall. They held their weapons ready, clearly expecting combat. Behind them was the man Cleve had hoped to encounter here in the castle, Javy Rayvender.

  Javy looked to have aged much since Cleve had seen him about a year ago, his skin blanched and his eyes tired. Javy still had a threatening look about him, though, not that any of his features stood out as aggressive. He had a way of blending in, appearing like a commoner with a stolen royal cloak of red and blue hanging heavily from his shoulders. His voice, especially the quiet way he spoke, reminded Cleve of a building storm.

  “What the bastial hell is going on?” Javy asked, obviously angry and not daring to come out from behind his guards.

  “We—”

  “Where is Nebre?” Rickik interrupted.

  “Who are you?” Javy demanded.

  Rickik puffed out his large chest as he took in a sharp breath. “I am Rickik, son of Kiplar, the great hunter and warrior. I lead Krepps. Who are you, human?”

  For whatever reason, Rickik clearly had been insulted by Javy’s question, his face contorting with rage. Perhaps it was even ruder among Krepps to answer a question with another question than it was with humans.

  No, rude doesn’t exist, Cleve realized. It must be a matter of disrespect.

  Javy cowered slightly, getting behind another row of guards. “I’m the acting king of Tenred!”

  “Acting? No time for false king.” Rickik spat, sending a couple men stumbling back to avoid it. “Get real king that know Nebre where is.”

  Rickik obviously had misunderstood the usage of the word “acting,” so Cleve told him, “Javy is the king, and he’s an ally.” He made sure to eye Javy sternly, reminding him of this and his obligation to Kyrro. “He will help us with whatever Kyrro needs.”