The Runaway King (The Ascendance Series, Book 2)

Carthya was a landlocked country, one of the crueler fates of my life. It was true that we had a favorable climate and some of the best land for natural resources of any of our neighboring countries.

But no sea of our own.

The pirates’ beach was full of rocks that became hot to bare feet if the sun got warm enough. But even an overheated beach was better than no beach. I could sit here all day gazing across the gentle waves at the line where the sea meets the sky. Somewhere on the other side were foreign countries I knew little about. Maybe one day I’d take a voyage, explore their lands and learn their ways. In fact, I had tentatively planned on doing something like that after Mrs. Turbeldy kicked me out of the orphanage for the last time. I had known my parents would hate the idea if they ever found out, which had somehow made it more appealing.

For a long time I watched a flock of seagulls circling just over the water, engaged in a mesmerizing dance in flight. I had some bread left from earlier that day and plucked off pieces to throw on the sand, then waited. A few of them landed and fought for the food. I gave them more, drawing them closer to me each time. Then I pinched a piece between my fingers and held it out to one bird who seemed a little braver than most. His head bobbed back and forth between my face and the bread as he debated whether it was worth the risk to take the crumb.

“C’mon,” I whispered. “You want it. Take your chance.”

He darted forward to grab the bread, but suddenly flew off as a rock landed in the sand near him. The rest of the flock scattered as well.

Behind me, Devlin snarled, “Miserable pests. They’re nothing but scavengers.”

As if pirates were any higher order of life. But I clenched my jaw and said nothing as I returned to staring at the sea. It was inevitable we’d have to talk.

He walked up beside me and said, “You seem deep in thought.”

I shifted on the ground. “I was.”

Devlin carried my sword in his hands, which he stuck into the sand in front of me. He dropped the scabbard at my side, then plunked down on the beach, leaning backward and propping himself with his arms.

I stared at the sword a moment, then asked, “Where’s my knife?”

“I’m keeping it,” he said. “It’s mine now.”

“Take care of it. It’d better be in good condition when I steal it back.”

He chuckled, then said, “Yes, Agor believes you must be a good thief, because your skills as a swordsman are dismal.”

I shrugged that off. “Dismal is such a judgmental word. I prefer to say that it was a close match and I barely lost.”

“No, I don’t think it was that at all.”

I smiled over at him, expecting another joke about my lack of skills, but his expression was far too serious.

“The reason I accepted you so easily as a pirate is because of the stories Erick told us about you,” Devlin continued. “How you stood up to King Vargan, or tricked him anyway. That you attacked a group of his thieves in Carthya, defending an innocent woman and child. You got a cut but several of them came home seriously injured. How did that happen, Sage?”

“Maybe I took them by surprise.”

“Yes, maybe. But in that noble’s house, there was a man who said it was better to give you whatever you want because you’d end up getting it anyway. Erick said you later killed that man.” He waited for me to answer, but this time I only stared at him. “I’m willing to bet you’re a very good swordsman. I think you threw the match with Agor so that you would look even less impressive. My only question is why you did it.”

I raised my sleeve so that he could see the assembly of bruises from that match. “You think I’d let him do this if I had the power to stop him?”

“Yes, I do.” Devlin’s lip curled as he evaluated me. “I think you’re more than just a thief. And although there is a cave full of Carthyan treasure somewhere, I think you intend to keep it for yourself. Above all else, I think that you are a compulsive liar.”

My laughter was tense, but sincere. “Hardly. In fact, I consider myself a compulsive truth teller. It’s only that everyone else seems compelled to misunderstand me.”

“And so that sword fight with Agor was a misunderstanding?” Devlin pointed at the sword. “Pick it up. I want to see it in your hand.”

After a loud huff, I stood and picked up the sword. I made no effort to pretend that I couldn’t hold it properly or that it was too heavy for me. He’d have seen right through something like that.

Devlin also stood, then widened his arms to show that he had no weapon. “I’ve been thinking about that priest. How did you say you knew him?”

“He took me in once,” I said.

“Ah. His name was Fontelaine. Did you know that?”

I shook my head.

“Fontelaine was well known, not only in Dichell but in all of northern Avenia. He took in a great many street boys over the years, more than could be counted, and never asked for or expected any reward.”

I wondered, briefly, whether my father had given Fontelaine any payment for taking me in. Probably not. He’d have worried that a payment might have justified the priest’s suspicions that I was someone more than a street boy.

“I gave him the finest reward he could have hoped for,” Devlin said. “Martyrdom. He got to die for a cause. Do you know why I killed him?”

The grip on my sword tightened. I had any number of reasons to justify using it against this evil man.

Devlin answered his own question. “He thought he had the young prince of Carthya at his church, a boy who somehow escaped from a ship we attacked.”

“You must have felt so stupid when he escaped,” I said. “How long did it take to realize you’d been tricked by a ten-year-old boy?”

His right eye twitched before he continued. “We thought he went down with the ship, until Fontelaine sent a messenger out to find the prince’s brother, who was searching Avenia for any news of the lost prince. Word of this eventually got back to us. By the time I got there the boy was gone. The priest assured me it hadn’t been the prince, but the damage was done. He should have told the pirates as soon as that boy arrived, and let us determine his identity.”

“If it wasn’t the prince, you killed the priest for nothing,” I said.

“Fontelaine died as an example of what happens to Avenians who fail to respect the pirates!” Devlin said. “If you knew him, then you can guess how he died. No pleas for his life, no tears, no bargains. Unfortunately, I had to make an example of him, so his death had to be slow and painful.”

“And what about the prince, now that he’s come back?”

His eyes darkened, and I saw in them a thirst for blood. My blood. “Don’t worry about Jaron. We’ll get him too, very soon.”

Anger filled me and I wasn’t taking it well. If I was going to act, this was my moment. And yet something held me back. The sweat on my palms made it difficult to hold the sword, and I switched it to my right hand.

Devlin smiled. “Perhaps you can use that weapon. Then why not strike me? Earlier, you said you might, to avenge what I did to that priest.”

Heat bristled across my body as I glared at Devlin. He was baiting me for a fight he clearly wanted. So why couldn’t I do it? Wasn’t this why I’d come to the pirates, for this exact purpose? Whatever I might do, he deserved it. And yet I felt weaker than ever, as though I was incapable of doing the one thing that might save my country.

Devlin crouched down and picked up a handful of rocks on the beach. He flung one at me, hitting me in the shoulder. “Maybe Agor was right,” he said, tossing another rock at my chest. “You’re no swordsman. You’re a thief only because you’ve got no ability to be anything better. Untying knots is a nice trick, but it won’t put bread in either your mouth or mine.”

Then he flung another rock at me, this one much harder, and it stung the cut on my stomach. “Do you think you’re better than the rest of us? Better than me? Now fight!” And he threw the rest of the rocks at me. I ducked to miss the one headed for my face, but it got my cheek anyway.

I raised my sword, finally ready to strike. In response, he planted his feet forward, his face tense with rage. I looked into his black eyes and suddenly realized there was nothing beyond that. No humanity, no love, and no soul. Except for his anger, he was completely empty. It was much of the same anger that I had felt for far too long, and it horrified me.

Since the night I was attacked, I had been so angry, so determined that there was no other choice but to destroy the pirates. But if that choice meant I’d become anything like Devlin, I had to find another way to win. It wasn’t that I couldn’t strike him. It’s that I wouldn’t. I refused to become him.

Wordlessly, I lowered my sword and started to leave. But Devlin grabbed my arm, twisted me around, and yanked me close to him. I stumbled in the sand and bumped roughly against him. Then he said, “That cave had better be full of treasure, because if it’s not, making you a pirate was the worst mistake of my life. You are utterly worthless. I just gave you every opportunity to use that sword, and you didn’t have the courage to try. Not even against an unarmed man.”

With that, he threw me down on the beach and started to walk away. “You weren’t unarmed,” I muttered, standing again.

“Huh?” He turned and saw in my hand a small knife that had been tucked inside his pants at his waist. I’d pulled it out when I bumped against him. Devlin’s face reddened.

“You hoped I’d try something with my sword so you could use this knife against me,” I said, tossing it on the sand near him. “Nice try, but I’m a pirate now. I’m one of you.”

“If you were really a pirate, you’d never have given that back,” Devlin said.

“I want the knife that belongs to me,” I said. “Not this inferior toy you’re using.” And with that I began walking away.

“Sage!” Devlin cried.

I turned in time to see him hurl the knife at me. Instinctively I raised my sword, using the flat side of the blade to deflect the knife away. It shot to the right and landed in a patch of tall grass.

Devlin locked eyes with me and his smile darkened. “So you can use a sword after all. But you won’t yet. What are you saving it for?”

I hesitated for just a moment before I said, “I am better than you, Devlin. And I’m saving this sword until it’s time for everyone else to understand that too.”

He let me leave, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before I’d have to pay for those words.