The Sparks: Book I of the Feud Trilogy Read online

  “There was a crossbow bolt fired into the Taurlum seal over the door to this very room,” the guard said nervously. “A Vapros weapon, from the looks of it. We are on high alert. Either one of you could be the target.”

  Neil shoved a hand through his hair and cursed his own arrogance. He slid the curved knife back into its sheath and planned his next move. Fighting had seemed like a good idea when it was only two boys in a bath, but now he had lost the element of surprise.

  On the other side of the room, Michael scoffed, “I fear no assassin. I am going to go get my hammer and then I am going to find him and use his insides to decorate the floor.”

  Darius stepped out of the bath and put a restraining hand on the Nose’s shoulder. “Settle down, Michael. The guards will take care of this. Any assassin stupid enough to fire a bolt into our crest is not stealthy enough to stay hidden for long.”

  Darius and Michael left the bathhouse together, leaving puddles in their wakes. Now, only the lone guard remained. Neil waited as patiently as he could but the man didn’t seem to have any intention of leaving. Neil took a breath and tried to still his hammering heart. He had never actually killed a man before. Carefully, Neil raised his crossbow and fired a bolt into the back of the guard’s head. The guard let out a surprised gasp as he began to fall. Neil materialized behind him and grabbed the back of his neck before he hit the ground. As he held onto the lifeless body he began to gather all his energy and then with a strong exhale, he released it. The guard’s body instantly dissolved into ash—clothes, weapons, and all. Every fiber of his being was cremated in less than a second. The ability to dissolve his enemies into ash was a useful one, but for Neil, it only worked on bodies that were already dead, and it would be ineffective as a tool in the coming assassination.

  Neil doubted anyone would notice the ash on the ground until he had already completed his mission, but he kicked through what was left of the guard for good measure. A pang of guilt began to arise in his chest and he clutched his stomach. He felt his face grow warm and for a moment, he was sure he would faint. He very quickly found himself vomiting onto the marble floor. He took a deep breath and approached the pool. With cupped hands, he brought some water to his mouth. He swirled it around and then spat it out. Don’t feel guilty, he told himself. Any guard who decided to work for a prominent family like the Taurlum understood the risks. He started toward the door, but fatigue and shortness of breath made him pause and double over. Materializing took an inordinate amount of energy. He had been stupid to use his powers so often in such a short amount of time. He stumbled to one of the pillars and leaned against it as he tried to stay conscious. A full minute passed before he felt well enough to stand, and as he made his way to the exit, he promised himself not to materialize again unless it was absolutely necessary.

  The exit took him to the bottom of a giant spiral staircase. He climbed the steps with as much vigor as he could muster in his weakened state, panting a little from the effort. By the time he reached the top stair, he was gasping for breath. Before him stood a giant door which stretched up to over three times his height. Why was everything in this house so tall? It was as if the Taurlum mansion was built for a community of elephants, instead of men who just happened to have tough skin.

  The door didn’t have a handle. Neil threw himself against the wood with all his force, but it held fast, and with a sinking heart, he realized someone with the strength of a Taurlum warrior designed the door. No one without such strength would be able to push it open. Not for the first time in his life, he wished it were possible to materialize through walls.

  As Neil backtracked a few steps to try throwing himself against the door again, it was pulled open with a staggering amount of force from the opposite side. The Vapros assassin found himself face to face with a familiar pair of Taurlum brothers, now armor-clad and holding weapons. “Got him,” the Nose said to Darius, brandishing a hammer high above his head. Neil forgot every bit of his training and made a run for it.

  In spite of promising himself not to, Neil materialized behind the two brothers and bolted into a circular room filled with armor and weapons. He gasped as he entered and realized this was a dead end. He didn’t have the energy to materialize again. The two Taurlum turned to face him, amusement spreading across their faces. Michael stood back and watched as Darius began to walk forward to confront Neil. “Remove your hood, Vapros,” he commanded.

  Neil pulled away his hood and mask to reveal his face for the two young men. Michael seemed slightly surprised by his age, but Darius held his icy composure. Neil was finally able to see Darius up close. He had wavy golden hair and something in his blue eyes that was almost intelligent. Neil quickly decided that Darius’s eyes didn’t show wisdom but more of an ironclad determination. Unlike Michael, he didn’t wear any jewelry. It was as if his entire outfit had been designed to be practical and battle efficient. This didn’t stop Neil from noticing the blood smeared on his armored chest. Neil was ready to bet that it wasn’t his. “Who are you here to kill?” Darius asked, advancing slowly. Neil backed away until he was pressed up against a giant floor-to-ceiling stained glass window. He glanced over his shoulder. The window would be easy to shatter, but a fall from this height was risky.

  “The oldest Taurlum,” Neil answered finally. “Your grandfather probably. I haven’t exactly looked at your family tree recently.”

  Darius narrowed his eyes. Neil braced himself for a deathblow. “You’re kind of an idiot, aren’t you?” the Taurlum boy said, a hint of laughter in his eyes.

  This question caught Neil off guard. “Not exactly. I’m just unlucky. Why?”

  “Look at you!” he laughed. “You’ve run right into a dead end. You aren’t even remotely in the right part of the house, if you’re looking for my grandfather. Was that your intention?”

  Neil tried to stand up straight as he responded sarcastically, “Well, if you could point me to the right part of the house I'd be on my way.”

  Michael exhaled heavily through his oversized nose and rubbed his bearded face leisurely. “On with it, Darius. I want to continue my swim.”

  As Darius took a step closer to his target, Neil realized he might have stalled long enough to gain back sufficient energy for one last escape. He concentrated his energy and prepared to materialize somewhere near the door. Darius realized what Neil was doing too soon, and before Neil could disappear, the Taurlum had planted his right foot against Neil’s chest and kicked him straight through the window.

  As Neil fell, he used the last of his energy to rematerialize slightly closer to the ground. He hit it chest first with a thud. Neil groaned as he tried to get up. His breastplate was horribly dented and his mouth tasted of blood. He slowly made it to his hands and knees and realized he was facing the markets. The massive city wall loomed in the distance, shrouded by a thin fog.

  He rolled around and tilted his head back to glare up at the window. He made eye contact with Darius, who now held a mammoth war hammer. A small smile played around the Taurlum’s lips as he raised the weapon above his head. Neil realized what was going to happen just in time. The hammer hit the ground with such force that it tore apart the bricks where Neil had been lying a moment before.

  “Is that the best you can do?” Neil shouted. Darius scowled and stepped straight out of the broken window. He plummeted to the ground (as did Neil’s jaw) and landed so hard that the cobblestone street beneath him shattered and sent up a cloud of dust. He rose from the rubble, dusted himself off, and swaggered over to Neil. “If you value your life,” he said, pulling the massive hammer from the ground, “you should run.”

  A group of villagers had come running when they saw the boy thrown from the third story window of the Taurlum mansion, but as Darius advanced on Neil they turned to flee. The citizens of Altryon knew what happened when members of opposing houses came across one another. Better to get as far away from the coming brawl as possible.

  Neil met Darius’s icy gaze and tore away his d
ented breastplate. For an instant, he considered fighting. Darius raised a challenging eyebrow and stretched out his arms threateningly. Neil took a step forward, threw his breastplate to the ground, and turned tail to run for his life. Darius smiled and waited a few seconds to give Neil a decent head start. Then, hoisting the hammer above his head, he let out a roar and chased after the terrified Vapros would-be assassin.

  CHAPTER TWO

  CELERIUS ESTATE

  LILLY CELERIUS

  Lilly Celerius frowned at herself in the mirror and decided that being seventeen years old looked exactly the same as being sixteen. She lifted a comb and pushed it through her lengthy auburn hair, then gently guided the stray strands into place with her fingertips. She passed her palm down the front of her military coat, checking to make sure each button was still fastened, and then reached up to dab away a bit of smudged lipstick from the corner of her thin lips. She had wide mahogany eyes and well-defined cheekbones. These were common Celerius traits that she wore with pride. She nearly always looked presentable, but this was a special occasion. Nothing could be out of place—not today.

  The door to her bedroom opened quietly, and Jonathan came inside. Lilly didn’t bother to turn around. She looked his reflection up and down in the mirror. “Yes?”

  The servant bowed, then stood at attention like a loyal guard dog. “Are you ready, Miss?”

  More ready than you are, she thought, sighing. Jonathan’s black hair hung down over his forehead, unkempt and far longer than a servant’s hair was supposed to be. His royal blue coat, which had clearly been made for a much taller man, dangled past his ankles. The coat, Lilly knew, had been a gift to Jonathan from her father, and the former wore it proudly almost every day, in spite of the fact that he appeared to be drowning in it. “Let’s go,” she said, giving her hair a final pat. She hesitated for a quick second to readjust Jonathan’s collar for him.

  Jonathan bowed again, gestured to the door and answered, “After you.”

  She exited briskly and he trotted after her, stumbling slightly as he hurried to keep up. The poor man had never made it past five feet tall and he had to maintain a steady jog to stay next to his mistress. “When was the last time you saw General Anthony?” he asked, trying to sound serious in spite of his hurried pace.

  Lilly rolled her eyes and sighed audibly, but slowed her steps. “It’s been weeks, understandably. He’s the busiest man in the entire realm.” Anthony was the General of the Imperial Army.

  “At least he made time to see you on your birthday,” Jonathon said.

  “Yes.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Jonathan give a little sigh of contentment, which angered her, until she realized his relief was probably in response to her slowing down rather than her brother’s absence.

  The Celerius estate was vast and their manor lavishly decorated. Each wall was adorned with their blue and gold colors, and decades worth of medals and weapons hung side by side. These were their trophies. Lilly paused for a moment to admire the crest positioned on the wall at the top of the staircase on the second floor. A downward facing sword above a golden banner was all the Celerius family needed to prove their worth to passers-by. The embroidered letters read, “Highest Honor.” Lilly stared at it and straightened her coat with a quick pull. Jonathan fixed his posture and tried to do the same.

  They proceeded toward the grand staircase that led to the front entryway of the Celerius estate. As they descended the long flight of steps, Jonathan comically reached around to hold the back of his jacket to keep it from dragging on the ground like a wedding train. Lilly would have laughed if things weren’t so important today.

  “Have you heard the rumors?” Jonathan asked.

  Lilly stopped walking. She turned her head slowly and looked down at him, “About Anthony?” Jonathan gulped and nodded as he tried desperately not to meet her icy stare. “Yes, Jonathan,” she said, “I’ve heard the rumors. They are nothing more than Vapros lies and deceit.”

  Jonathan smiled weakly but Lilly didn’t lift her glare. Although one would normally associate such large brown eyes with warmth and kindness, Lilly’s eyes could practically freeze time with their intensity. He tried not to squirm in discomfort. Finally, she started walking again, and he closed his eyes and let out a breath he didn’t remember holding before tripping after her.

  As they exited the house and stepped onto the gravel road, Lilly gazed across the distant fields that comprised her family’s estate. Jonathan offered a hand to help her into the carriage, but she ignored it and climbed aboard herself. “Miss,” the driver said, turning in his seat to face her, “we can’t get to the military outpost without crossing through the marketplace or the nightlife district.” Jonathan grunted a little as he struggled to climb into the carriage. “So it’s either Taurlum territory or Vapros territory.”

  Jonathan opened his mouth. “I think we should—”

  “Marketplace,” Lilly decided firmly. “It’s closer, and if we are attacked, we will have an easier time fighting off one bull rather than ten ravens.” The Vapros usually travelled in teams and the Taurlum tended to operate alone. Lilly wasn’t particularly worried though; it had been a few months since the last physical brawl between families. Even if a Taurlum saw her carriage in the markets it was doubtful that he would attack, unless of course, it was that idiot Michael Taurlum.

  “That’s what I was going to say,” Jonathan muttered, settling himself into the seat opposite his mistress. The driver clucked to the prized Celerius horses and they sprang forward, seamlessly pulling the carriage down the road with a smooth, steady haste. Despite how quickly they reached the city district, Lilly knew that this journey would take her all day. The city of Altryon was twenty-five square miles across and they were travelling across half of it. There were roughly two million people living outside the slums and a population that large didn’t exactly make it easy to navigate. Lilly stared absently out the window at the glorious stone walls of the bank where her family stored their endless funds. Selling weapons had proven to be a lucrative business. She could see the great wall of Altryon in the distance and her subtle smile turned into a frown. Everyone in the city was assured daily that it was to protect them from the savages outside the wall, but as a member of the Celerius family she was frequently treated to smaller bits and pieces of information about the alleged “wasteland” beyond the walls. Sometimes when she stared upon its vastness it didn’t make her feel safe. It made her feel suffocated.

  “I think we’re almost to the markets,” said Jonathan quietly. “Hopefully everything goes all right.”

  Lilly didn’t appear to hear him. The carriage began to bounce up and down furiously. Jonathan was nearly thrown from his seat. Lilly closed her hands into fists at her sides. “Why are there so many potholes?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  Jonathan chuckled a little, but stopped when Lilly turned her glare toward him. “This is Taurlum territory," he said. "There are bound to be a few holes in the road.” Suddenly the carriage came to a halt. Lilly’s annoyed expression turned to one of fear. She shared a knowing look with Jonathan and they both reached for the door simultaneously.

  As Lilly stepped out onto the street, she realized how very out of place she looked here. Her military coat and dress were both a bright royal blue, a color nobody else seemed to be wearing. The crowds of villagers were clad in darker colors, the fabrics stained with sweat and hard work.

  It was never difficult to determine someone’s social class; all that was needed was a quick look at their clothes. A large mob had gathered in the streets, blocking the carriage. Lilly looked at Jonathan expectantly, waiting for her servant to order the crowd to move, but he seemed too terrified to speak. She scowled and approached the nearest merchant, checking first to make sure he wasn’t blonde. “You,” she said flatly.

  The villager jumped and stared up at her as he wiped his hands on his stained apron. “Me?”

  “Why is the road blocked?” She phrased her se
ntence the way her father always did; it was an order, not a question. That was the best way to command respect.

  The commoner looked at her coat instead of her face as he answered. “Darius Taurlum caught some Vapros kid in his house. He’s about to kill him.”

  Lilly suppressed a smile; it was always satisfying to see her two worst enemies fighting it out. “An execution?” she inquired.

  “Not yet. Darius is still chasing him, but he doesn’t play around. The kid will be dead before lunch.”

  Lilly smiled and said, “Thank you, sir.”

  She glanced back at the carriage and realized that it would take some time to turn around. This made her nervous; the Celerius weren’t exactly beloved in the working parts of Altryon. The Celerius estate was on the eastern edge of the city, past the Imperial Palace and the nightlife district. Most people from the working class wouldn’t have any reason to venture so far east. Lilly hardly ever journeyed out past the protective gates of the family estate, unless she was accompanying her father on business or to visit other nobles in the area. However, her desperate need to see Anthony had led her to pass through the working class area and the markets on her way to the military base on the northwest edge of the city.

  She stood, her face hard, as her driver and Jonathan struggled to redirect the carriage. She could hear a few men in the crowd whispering as they noticed her, but she forced herself not to betray any emotion. “Hello, lovely,” called a large, sweaty man, as he broke away from the crowd. “I like that coat of yours.”

  “Then you should understand what it represents,” she said calmly, wrapping her fingers around the handle of her sheathed sword.

  The man growled and wiped his forehead with a massive hand, leaving a trail of soot behind. He looked strong. Lilly guessed he was a blacksmith. “You’ve got quite a mouth,” he said, advancing toward her, “and I’m not sure I like your tone.”