Platinum Prisons: Book 4 of The Rose Tree Chronicles

Chapter Six: Battle in the Mycius Woods

"All freed Slaves can be sold back into slavery."

That night, Rein's search of Rallian's safehouse had come up empty, so she decided to try again another day. She opted to join Captain Vincent and his men, who escorted the Rogue Assassins to Mycius Port, their shadows stretching long beneath the flicker of lantern light through the cover of the Mycius Woods. The path wound through the dense hush of trees whose branches arched like ribs overhead, and the scent of damp soil in the melting snow clung to the air.

Ezra had requested the use of a couple of torches, but she was outnumbered by those who believed the amount of light would attract too much attention. Regardless of her four years of training to improve her pyroead abilities, she had yet to feel confident in a serious event. She eyed the swaying lanterns, each flame a fragile promise. If trouble came, she would have to draw fire from them, shape it, and command it competently. She hoped this would be a quiet journey to port. If not, she prayed the flames in the lanterns would be enough for her to manipulate efficiently. The thought curled tight in her chest.

The trek through the woods was too quiet for Jedidiah's liking, and as much as he desired to strike up conversation with someone—anyone—it was wiser to remain silent. Instead, he tried to focus on his enthusiasm over Ivanna's recent gifts to him and his fellow Rogue Assassins. They had each been presented a beautiful Roshirian warhorse, a rare and valuable breed conditioned for battle. His was black with a dark green mane and tail, and an emerald on its forehead; he had named it Aramis.

Rein spotted the faint flicker of lanterns first, their soft glows pulsing between the trees like distant fireflies. As she drew closer, the shapes of the caravan emerged from the shadows, outlined in quiet motion beneath the canopy of the woods. Near the front, she caught sight of the four assassins: cloaked in black, their hoods drawn low, the gold Iah-Ra emblems glinting faintly over their hearts. Relief settled in her chest. Judging by their progress, they were well past the halfway point to Mycius Port. It appeared as though they would safely arrive without incident.

Then her heart jumped when she caught a tiny flash of light from a bush mere feet away from the caravan. She narrowed her eyes at this oddity and shot toward Vincent to bring it to his attention.

Something zipped past Ezra's ear.

Ezra jerked the reins, bringing her new ruby-encrusted Roshirian horse to a sharp halt. Hooves kicked up frozen soil as she twisted in the saddle, her eyes locking on the arrow quivering in the tree trunk just feet behind her. Her friends and the other mercenaries stopped as well, following her gaze to see the same grim signal.

Silence. A breath.

Then another arrow sliced the air, finding its mark in one of the mercenaries. Ezra spurred her horse forward. Snow and mud flew beneath pounding hooves as the entire company surged ahead.

Rein kept her distance and struggled to ascertain where the enemy was located. The Rogue Assassins continued to make haste to Mycius Port under the guard of Vincent's men. Some mercenaries took cover behind the shrubs and trees to take down any enemy who attempted to chase after the assassins. They didn't get far before Vincent was shot off his horse.

Captain Vincent ducked into the underbrush, branches snapping against his armor. He tore the arrow from his shoulder plate with a hiss. The metal had lodged deep, but hadn't pieced his flesh—thank the saints. He crouched low, breath steady, eyes sweeping the treeline. There—a flicker. The faint gleam of an arrowhead caught the light between the leaves of a nearby bush. Vincent strung his bow in one practiced motion and loosed an arrow straight into the foliage. A sharp grunt followed, and the sound of a body hitting the forest floor brought a brief satisfaction.

Vincent kept low as he slipped from the thicket and approached, another arrow at the ready. The man behind the bush writhed on the ground—an Imperial Guard by his insignia—still alive, but clutching his chest in pain. Vincent let him be. He turned just as a sword arced toward his neck. He dodged the blade, the steel whispering past his ear, and came up hard with his own sword to catch the next swing. Steel rang out among the trees, resonating like a warning.

§

Rein watched as a sword fight ensued between Vincent and the soldier, her gut tight. She wished there was something she could do to help, but she had to be there for the Rogue Assassins since they were the key piece in this mission, so she pressed on. She caught up to the assassins as they continued to gallop through the woods, rapidly making their way to exit the forest and proceed to port. Her hopes rose with their acceleration when suddenly, a large dire wolf pounced from the darkness and knocked Jedidiah off Aramis.

"Jedidiah!" Ezra cried.

"Continue onward, Ezra!" Gideon demanded. "Jed can take care of himself."

Ezra struggled to follow, so Elion grabbed the reins of her horse and forced her forward. Still she refused to leave Jedidiah without doing at least one small act to help him. She summoned the fire from one of their lanterns, quickly shaped it larger, and tossed it at the wolf. His fur took well to the flame. Satisfied, she found it easier to move on without her brother in Iah-Ra.

Rein stayed behind to assess if there might be anything she could do to assist Jedidiah. While the wolf rolled around on the ground in a mad attempt to put out the flames, six more soldiers of the Imperial Guard emerged to surround and attack the assassin. Though Rein was confident in Jedidiah's skills, she didn't feel comfortable betting his life against these super soldiers. She drew her tiny dagger, flew to the man closest to her, and sliced open his jugular vein. Then she took cover in a tree so no one could spot who attacked the man who held his throat tight and choked on his blood.

"Jackson!" one of his comrades exclaimed. "What happened?"

Rein attacked the questioning guard next in the same way and returned to the refuge of her tree.

§

Farther back, Captain Vincent was tiring against the super strength and speed of the soldier he fought. Though by some miracle, the man faltered in his step and Vincent took advantage. He ran his opponent through with his sword, and hopped back onto his horse to catch up to the Rogue Assassins.

Vincent soon came upon Jedidiah and his sorry predicament. The air buzzed with steel and shouts. He spurred his horse forward and leapt from the saddle mid-stride, landing hard and rolling to his feet right as a blade came down toward Jedidiah's back.

He parried the blow just in time.

The two fought side by side, blades flashing, boots scraping against dirt and frost. Wounds formed fast and uncounted. Blood gathered on the hilts of their weapons, significantly compromising their grips. There was no space to breathe, only the rhythmic clash of swords and the copper sting of blood in the air. Vincent's lungs burned. His vision wavered at the edges, breath hitching with every swing. He wiped sweat and blood from his eyes.

Then more of the Imperial Guard joined the fray.

Rein aided as much as she could with her same method. It wasn't long before she was discovered, and whenever a soldier found the chance, she was swatted at. Just when she was about to conclude all hope was lost, more of Vincent's mercenaries arrived to assist.

"Thank Adara," Vincent breathed. He sliced his opponent's abdomen and took the first opportunity he found to behead Jedidiah's opponent. "This is your chance! Rejoin the others!"

"You're outnumbered!" Jedidiah replied.

"You're priority! Go!"

Jedidiah reviewed the mercenaries against the Imperial Guard, and he was not optimistic.

"Go!" Vincent insisted. "We'll cover you!"

Jedidiah reluctantly snatched Aramis by the reigns. "I owe you my life, Captain!" He mounted his horse and rode off to catch up with his fellow Rogue Assassins.

A guard spotted Jedidiah riding away, and with a flash of steel, Vincent cut the soldier down before he could give chase. But another guard noticed Jedidiah as well, and this one managed to escape Vincent's blade. The captain drove his weapon through the fray, carving a bloody path with clenched teeth and raw fury. He swung onto his saddle and yanked his horse after the guard.

The guard pressed his steed hard, hooves pounding through the shadow-soaked woods. But Vincent pressed harder with muscles burning and breath ragged, chasing through the near-blackness of the woods where only thin ribbons of orange moonlight dared to fall. Branches whipped past, snagging his cloak as he closed the gap. With a sudden slash, Vincent's blade found flesh. The guard jerked, faltered, then tumbled from his horse in a spray of icy dirt.

Vincent glanced over his shoulder where dark shapes moved fast, gaining on him. He sheathed his sword and strung two arrows onto his bow. They sang through the night, finding their marks with soft thuds as two figures crumpled into the grass. A grim smile tugged at his lips, but the respite was brief. Steel flashed again. Pain exploded beneath Vincent's ribs as a brutal strike sent him crashing to the ground, the world tilting beneath him. He clutched his wounded side, his breath shallow, and glanced up. A number of blades encircled him, their cold steel glinting inches from his throat and face. The forest fell deadly silent.

"Where's the firefly?" one of the soldiers demanded.

"The firefly answers to no one," Vincent breathed.

The soldier glared down at the captain, perhaps contemplating whether Rein was worth the trouble. "Seize him," he finally barked.

Vincent was restrained, and taken into custody.

§

Gideon's breath came sharp and ragged, Ezra's grip tight on the reins, and Elion scanned the dark behind them. The Imperial Guard pressed close, like a relentless shadow in pursuit. The edge of the wood loomed ahead, a jagged line between shelter and exposure.

"There must be something we can do to shake them!" hollered one of the mercenaries.

"Remain calm!" Ezra shouted. "I have an idea."

"Do share," coaxed Elion.

"I will set the forest line aflame once we exit to keep the Guard at bay."

"And if one of their soldiers can counter your assault?" Elion asked.

"Then we pray. Unless you have something in mind."

"I do," Elion replied. "I will meet you at the forest line, continue with your plan."

Elion rode off before his brother and sister in Iah-Ra could reply. Ezra and Gideon despised the idea of separating from another one of their own, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and this wasn't the most desperate ploy they had ever executed.

As the mercenaries neared the forest's edge, and Ezra prepared for her attack with the flames from their lanterns, Elion snatched up a rock the size of his fist and took a narrow shortcut to exit the woods. He sliced through the open path, and arrived at the rendezvous point ahead of the others. He crouched in the underbrush where he quickly etched Elvish into the rock, his fingers steady despite the pounding hooves growing louder behind him. He smeared the rock with his saliva, then whispered a quick prayer, voice low and urgent. When the thundering of numerous hooves drew closer, he rose and waited. Then the mercenaries burst through the treeline like a storm.

Ezra's fire flared, igniting the forest border in roaring flames that licked the night sky. The heat warmed Elion's face, and he hurled the rock at the wall of fire. It exploded into a bright green flash meant to contain the blaze and keep anyone from being rid of it. Still, a handful of the Guard slipped through the fiery gauntlet, hot on the assassins' trail before Elion's tactic took full effect. Elion swung into the saddle of his sapphire-speckled horse and gave chase. He surged forward, his sword flashing in the firelight, and cut them down one by one as he rode through the scorched night.

At long last, the three Rogue Assassins and Vincent's mercenaries reached the mist-shrouded harbor of Mycius Port where the Dark Aurora awaited them, its black hull and crimson sails looming like a shadow of salvation. Ezra and Gideon galloped up the gangplank, hooves thundering on wood worn by countless voyages. Behind them, Vincent's mercenaries formed a wall, blades at the ready, blocking the path against the charging Imperial Guard. Elion arrived in tow and attacked the Guard, his sword slicing through one soldier after the other. The mercenaries surged forward, a tide of steel and fury. Ezra and Gideon exchanged glances, their eyes filled with tension. Battle was familiar, but tonight their place was aboard the ship, not in the bloodied chaos.

Then, like a firestorm breaking through the smoke, Jedidiah burst into the battle, eyes blazing with a fierce new resolve. His energy fueled Elion and the rest of the mercenaries with renewed vigor, their strikes sharper, their movement swifter. Despite the Imperial Guard being empowered by the serum Ariana had received from Ravan, their skill paled in comparison. One by one they fell, until only the captain and a handful of officers remained, battered and defeated, forced to surrender.

Rein arrived as the soldiers' weapons were discarded, and she perched on Aramis's head, heaving heavily from an arduous flight. "They have Vincent."

Jedidiah sighed between gasps, feeling largely responsible. He addressed the second in command of the mercenaries. "Take these men into custody. Perhaps Her Ladyship can negotiate for his release."

The second in command nodded. "Will do, sir."

Elion and Jedidiah boarded the Dark Aurora, and the crew released the gangplank. The four Rogue Assassins had successfully completed their first mission of many, and set sail for Vira.

§

The following day, Miseria 23, was the New Tide Festival for the Obsidian Kingdom, capital of the Empire of the Five Oceans. The celebration painted Coral City in motion and color. Radiant schools of fish glided through the current above, weaving trails of glimmering kelp and silk-like seaweed of every hue. Laughter echoed against the coral-speckled cliffs, harmonizing with the pulse of drums and the distant lilt of shell-horns. A parade shimmered down the city's spine, a procession of beasts from the deep and dancing naiads, all glowing with bioluminescence.

After the parade, Ivanna tried her best to enjoy the feast hosted for the nobility at the palace. The obsidian ballroom flickered with warm light from glowfish sconces, and chandeliers spinning from precious gems. Elegant tables jutted from the walls in tiers, heavy with platters of glittering oysters, spiced urchins, and nectars of coralberry and lotus. In the center, naiads and merfolk danced together, scales flashing like sequins under the light, their joy a tidal wave of movement and sound.

Ivanna barely moved. Seated in a sculpted alcove of polished black stone, half-shrouded in sheer sleeves and shadows, she watched it all as though behind glass. Her fingers toyed with the stem of her goblet, her shrimp untouched on a pearl-plated dish. Every note of music bounced off her like a cresting wave.

The cabinet meeting from earlier still held her mind captive. Every word, every sidelong glance replayed in relentless detail. She had directed Prim to forward all messages from Bloodrose Villa straight to the palace as she wanted to know of any news immediately. She longed to hear from land, if only to distract her anxious mind. Occasionally, she would use her fairy magic to check up on Nadia, who slept late into the morning.

Two years—she had two years to prepare Nadia for the Annual Slave Arena.

Ivanna aggressively rubbed her face, as if trying to rub the thought from her mind. She sought to find pleasure in simply observing the festivities around her—the laughter, the food, the dancing—but none of it touched her. She checked on Nadia again, but nothing had changed. Ivanna had no idea why she kept wasting her energy looking in on the enslaved princess. Frankly, she felt she was wasting precious time at this gala, too. She popped a shrimp in her mouth more out of habit than appetite. She adjusted the sleeves of her gauzy black top, and took another sip of her nectar, eyes drifting back toward the dancers.

"Chevess Ivanna?"

She turned to spot a merman courier at her side with an envelope.

"A message from Melnah Valley, madam." He held the letter out toward her with both hands.

Ivanna took the note, struggling to contain her fervor. The courier bowed and swam away. She set her goblet on the table beside her and untied the twine that held the envelope together; the message was written in Noelle script.

It contained an outline of the incident which had occurred in the Aramycius Woods, how the Rogue Assassins were on their way to Vira, and how Vincent had been taken into custody by the Imperial Guard. Fortunately, she had the Captain of the Guard and a few of his men in custody as well. Perhaps she could work out a trade with Ariana. She doubted it, but figured it could be worth a try.

Ivanna folded the letter back up and used her fairy magic to search for Vincent. She found him asleep in a cell beneath the Helvetican Palace. He didn't seem to be harmed in any way, so they hadn't started questioning him yet. She rose from her seat and glided toward one of the servants who hovered in a corner waiting for commands.

"A courier and a writing tray, please."

"Right away, madam."

The servant bowed and swam off. Ivanna remained in the refuge of the abandoned corner while she searched the rest of the Helvetican Palace to find Ariana getting dressed in her chambers, and Maurice reading over papers in his office. Everyone appeared to still be in the process of deciding how they were to use their day. Had she been on land, she would have plenty of time to plan strategies, but she was stuck beneath the ocean attending a senseless gala for a senseless solstice holiday.

Surely Vincent would be questioned today, and there was little Ivanna could do to stop it. She would have to allow Aleda to write to the empress offering her Captain of the Guard in exchange for Vincent, then she could take further action once she shored again.

The servant returned with the courier, who offered the writing tray. Ivanna scribbled out her response as quickly as she could, providing an update to Vincent's condition, instructions on how to write the message to Ariana, and directions to continue to report any more news. She folded and tied the envelope, then handed it to the courier.

"Send this to Melnah Valley right away, please."

"Yes, madam."

The courier bowed and swam away. Ivanna heaved a heavy sigh and returned to her seat where she took another sip of nectar—more like a large gulp. She checked up on Vincent again. Nothing. Then she checked on Nadia, but this time, Nadia wasn't in her room. Ivanna felt her heart race as she frantically searched Aimonbay Estate for the enslaved princess, only to find her approaching Rallian's study.

The door stood wide open with one man at guard. Nadia dared not enter right away, but merely peered in with her bruised and swollen eyes.

"Master?" she spoke softly, her voice still rough.

Rallian peered up from his paperwork. It was unusual for her to approach him of her own will. He cast a curious gaze on his prized slave.

"Yes, Lila?"

"Might I have a word with you in private?"

Marquis Rallian sat up straight in his throne-like chair. "Very well. Come in, and close the door behind you."

Nadia obeyed and stood shyly in front of her master's cluttered cedar desk.

Before she could decide how she wished to begin, Rallian spoke. "Well, have a seat."

Nadia hesitated, but very carefully sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk, likely still aching from the prior day.

Rallian observed Nadia closely. "So what's this all about, Lila?"

Again, Nadia hesitated. After a difficult swallow, she finally said, "I—I feel it's necessary to tell you everything, Master. All my secrets."

Ivanna's heart plummeted. Before she had some sort of breakdown right there in the ballroom, she slipped from the glow and glamour, her chiffon fins trailing behind her like a cloak. She passed through the coral-lined halls until the revelry was only a memory, and drifted into the quiet courtyard along the side of the Obsidian Palace. Here, the world was still. She sank onto a smooth labradorite bench, its surface cool against her palms. Amber statues stood in silent vigil before her, their faces carved into thoughtful expressions. Flowers lined the path which wove about the garden, their soft inner light pulsing in blue, pink, and violet. There she sat, gripping the edge of the bench as she witnessed the resulting conversation between Nadia and Marquis Rallian. Had she been on land, tears would have been streaming down her face as the princess took a deep, steadying breath, and proceeded to tell her master everything he ever wanted to hear.