Normally, authors go at least a year before publishing the next book. I've always found it annoying (Green Rider book 4 took three years, and I'm waiting for the last Eragon book so I can decide if I like the series or not...)Urgh. It really annoys me. But if I get that publishing deal, that's what's going to happen to me.
Thankfully, this isn't published (yet). This is editing in the works. Therefore, you only have a week to wait to start reading the next part. Now, just pretend that it has been a year and this has just come out. I have to explain everything from the start again, refresh your memories and all that.
Enough with this! To the second book!
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A boat was docking in the Nacre bay in the early afternoon. Its cargo carried mostly southern spices from the newly freed Evan’s Stand, a sea port that had been under siege all winter long. Its goods were in high demand in the capital city. However, its most important cargo was not spices, nor had any monetary value. In truth, no one knew it was important. The extra passenger had just been that. An extra passenger.
The young man gazed at Nacre, feeling a strange sense of foreboding. Though, he thought to himself, I have every reason to be nervous about coming back.
The city of Nacre, the capital of Aeterna, was considered one of the world’s architectural masterpieces. The large bay leading into the ocean displayed the city to the world while the thick Morvan Woods protected the city’s eastern side.
Nacre had been designed like the inside of a spiral seashell. There was one long street that formed a spiral throughout the city; it was built with a shimmering rock that reflected different colors from different angles. Other streets sprung from the Spiral Path and were much less colorful. On the side streets the busy life of the city dwellers went on. Merchants tried to bring customers in with colorful displays and loud announcements of sales. Service workers ignored the cries of merchants as they went to work on their crafts. Mothers would stand in out in the street, hanging their laundry and gossiping with the neighbors about the latest bit of news. Their children would dodge through the drying clothes, playing their games of their imaginations. Politicians had their own places as they argued petty disputes over small details in the law. Foreigners from across the world visiting would stop to gape at the wonders of the many gardens and large buildings of the city.
And at the very center of the city, where the Spiral Path ended, was the Aeternan Tree. A large tree of nearly thirty feet. No one knew what type of tree it was; some scholars even claimed that it was the only one of its kind. But any Aeternan knew that. It was a magical tree, blooming with delicate light blue flowers and hardy silver leaves that lasted even through the harshest of winters.
But the young man’s eyes lingered on the very edge of the Spiral Path, where it began between the ocean and Morvan Woods. The palace of the Santers was a masterpiece; every artist, historian, architect, and critic would agree. The palace had been built out simmering blue colored stone. The tall spires reached into the clouds, almost blending into the sky. The arching design served not to create the illusion of man’s work, but rather to reflect the beauty of nature. The palace gardens, nearly as large as the palace itself, were simply an extension of the palace. It was said that a person could visit both palace and gardens and not know where one ended and where one started.
The city had left quite an impression on him the first time he saw it from sea. Was that really nine years ago? He had been a boy of ten at the time, a former street urchin of Loman, a seaport of no nation. The ship he was on had stopped at Evan’s Stand then made its way to the capital of Aeterna. Even now, even with the sense of foreboding that made his stomach ache slightly, he was still in awe over the sheer size and beauty of the city of the nation he pledged himself to.
The irony of the whole situation was not lost to him.
The sailors moved around him, busy getting ready for their docking. The young man didn’t watch them as they worked. He knew where they were, each movement he could sense without turning around to see them do it. He snorted softly.
My powers are becoming more refined. He wasn’t sure yet if that was a good thing. The last ten days on the ship had been boring for him. He had to do something before he went nuts. The only thing he could do, though, was practice his recently unblocked magic. Sighing, he turned to get his pack from his bunk.
“Hey! Kid! Watch out!”
The young man stopped, frowning. The sailor who cried out was carrying an empty frame with another sailor. He went to step through the frame when he noticed a flash of the city in the frame instead of the ship beyond.
“Can’t you see your own reflection?” the other sailor asked, grunting as he adjusted his hold on the mirror.
The young man blinked. No. The last time he saw his reflection it was the face of another. The face he should have had.
“My mind is on other things,” he quickly lied, walking around them. Even six months after loosing it, he was still adjusting to not having a reflection. Not that many people knew he couldn’t see his own face.
Sighing, he went to get his horse with his things already strapped to the saddle. The last time he saw his face it was when he was captured by Venter mages. It had been a sharp noble face with deep blue eyes and long blonde hair, not his current commoner one of hazel eyes and short dark brown hair. They changed me so much. The young man shivered. Trek had been clever when he kidnapped him, an event the young man didn’t actually remember. But it had changed his life in a very drastic way.
“All ashore!” the captain yelled. The young man led his horse after the other extra passengers the merchant ship. The other passengers had people come and greet them. Many were received with laughter, hugs, kisses, and even a few playful punches. He had no one greet him. No one saw as he mounted his horse and slipped quietly away into the heart of the city. No one really knew who he was. Not that he blamed them for not knowing. He didn’t really know either until just a few weeks before.
Besides, he grew up as a street urchin, a child used to shadows and fear. He just wasn’t ready for what the responsibilities that came with being who he was. To him, it was alright that no one knew he was the crown prince of Aeterna.
Martin Santer paused at the thought. He still wasn’t used to thinking of himself as the prince. If anything, he still wanted to believe that he wasn’t.
His life had been going great. He was serving Aeterna as a spy, and not just any average spy, but as the Alex, the top most spy in Aeterna. It had been his goal since the spy network took him in when he first arrived to become one of the great Aeternan spies; even on the streets of Loman the spies that came from Aeterna were considered clever and worthy of the rumors that followed them. He had the skills and the determination to achieve his goals. Eight years of hard worked finally got him the respect he had always dreamed of having.
And then it was discovered. He would have gone on living like the spy he was trained to be if he hadn’t found that Inhibitor in a Venter war camp. If his power hadn’t been unlocked. If the queen had seen the lone glove that proved that her son had in fact lived the night pirates attacked Nacre.
If onlys are not going to change my past, Martin thought bitterly. There was nothing that regretting the past could do for him, except maybe make his mood sour.
Besides, I have a duty to do. To the rest of the world, he was still orphan Martin, the Spy Alex. He was in Nacre for a reason and it wasn’t to reveal himself as their future king.
The letter from Doug Suit, the Spy Master of Aeterna, had been short and to the point, just like the efficient Spy Master himself. Abigail Santer, the Queen of Aeterna, and her councilors were considering what to do about her unknown son. Since it was him who “recovered” the glove from the Venter war camp, they wanted a full report from him. Martin rolled his eyes. What was wrong with a written report?
There was another reason, he was sure of it. Perhaps it was because he was on the list of young men who had no past and could be the prince. The councilors might want the opinion of what the possible princes thought of the situation they found themselves in.
If I didn’t already know that I was the prince, I would tell them to bug off and let me live my life. He would probably tell them that anyway. He had no intentions of telling them the truth. He had his own problems to worry about.
Martin shook his head. Yes, he had his own problems but he didn’t have the time to work them out. His current job was to report to the council about what he “found” in the Venter camp.
The letter had said to inform Queen Abigail of his arrival and she would then give him the rest of his instructions. The problem was that he did not know where to find her. He hesitated. He did have one way he could find out…
Glancing around the street, he spotted a small alcove. Guiding his horse through the crowd, he dismounted and sat down in the alcove, staring out at the busy street before him. The people worked to their own rhythm, to a beat Martin could feel within himself. He shivered; he still wasn’t used to his growing powers. Powers that he was sure were much stronger then what the queen and her daughter had. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mind to the people.
Immediately he was pounded with the emotions of everyone around him. The city itself had a sense of uneasiness. It’s the war, Martin already knew. It was two years since Terk, the Mad General of Venter, had invaded and killed their king. Martin opened his eyes, his stomach dropping even more than before.
My father is already dead.
Martin sighed deeply, his own emotions confused. Even though he was Suit’s apprentice he was never introduced as such to anyone important, including the king. Suit had his reasons though. He had had two previous apprentices, both killed before he could name them the Alex. “Best if you stay unknown, Martin,” the Spy Master had said. “You’re just an ordinary spy until I say you’re not.” At the time, he had thanked Suit for not introducing him as his apprentice but now…
If only is not going to change anything, he told himself, shaking the foolishness out of his head. He had come to terms with never knowing who he was and never being part of a family. He should be grateful he knew he had a mother and sister.
Pushing his troubled feelings aside, he let his magic seek the queen. There. Martin could not say why he knew the queen was there; he just knew. She was in the House of People, where most of the governing of Aeterna was done. It was almost at the center of the city, within sight of the Aeternan Tree.
She’s probably holding Court, he reasoned, closing himself from the city once again. It wasn’t going to be hard getting in; the Court was open to the public except for rare occasions. Knowing there was no use putting the meeting off, he shoved himself out of the alcove, mounted again, and started for the House of People.
It was nearing dinner time when he finally arrived to the House of People. He paused a moment to gaze at the Aeternan Tree. It was the center of the Square of the Tree, a large square that could have the entire city stand within it. Anything that the whole city could participate in would be found happening in the Square of the Tree. Festivals, markets, a hero’s welcome, parades, celebrations, and even public announcements from the Santers. At the moment, the Square was fairly empty, only a few merchant caravans on the other side of the House of People. Martin shook the thought out of his head that one day the Square would be filled for him.
Turning, he saw the House of People. It was a large stately building, with towering windows and strong pillars holding up a large balcony where announcements could be made for all those listening in the Square. Three large doors were guarded by men in Aeternan blue uniforms who were there more for decoration than protection. Dismounting again, he handed the reigns over to one of the many stable boys waiting for work. He tossed a coin at the boy and received a grateful grin. Martin found himself smiling. What I would have given to have that boy’s life. But that was the past; he had his future to worry about.
He walked up the dull grey stone steps to the closest of the three doors. The guard nodded at him as he approached.
“Business?”
“I’d like to hear what’s being said,” Martin shrugged. Truthful enough. “That’s assuming it’s open to the public today…”
“It’s open,” the guard said in a dull tone. Martin pitied the man; how boring it must be to stand here all day and ask the same questions over and over again. “But they only have a half hour before they call it done for the day.”
“Excellent,” Martin said cheerfully, surprising the guard a bit. “Then I don’t have to wait for my chance to talk with the queen!”
At this the guard snorted. “Good luck trying to get the chance. She’s booked with meetings. The soonest you’ll be able to see her is probably two weeks from now.”
“Two weeks?” Martin asked, feigning shock. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to admit that I’m her son to get to talk to her.”
The guard laughed out right. Martin flashed a fake grin. He wasn’t kidding. “Go on in,” the guard chuckled, opening the smaller door built in the large one. “Good luck with whatever you’re trying.”
Martin grinned again, bowed his thanks, and went inside. The inside of the House of People was as stately as it was outside. Made of the same dull grey stone, the only color that graced the halls were paintings of various heroes of Aeterna’s past. Martin ignored the scenes of the past as he walked to the large hall where the court would be held. He approached the ground door and found it blocked with people craning their necks to watch the proceedings. Rolling his eyes, he glanced around. Another set of stairs caught his eyes.
He climbed the steps to the second level of the hall. There were people here as well, but not as many as below. Martin searched the second level until he found an empty wall slit that gazed down into the hall. He stopped at it and gazed down at the Court below.
The large room was reminded him of an arena. Theater seating lined the sides of a long walkway down the center. The seats were filled with various public officials, noble and elected commoners alike. Several servants wandered through the politicians, offering refreshments or notes on the proceedings. However, the attention was at the far end of the room, where five different people sat on a raised platform. Three of the men Martin knew to be the ones who brought order to the Court. It was they who called out the next speaker, the next item of business, settled petty disputes, and made general announcements. The other two on the raised stage were the queen and her assistant.
Queen Abigail Santer was a very impressive figure. Her thin frame seemed more strict and commanding than frail. Although she was a woman in her early forties, most would age her mid thirty. Her flaxen hair was pulled tight into a bun at the base of her neck, a simple gold circlet on top of her head to remind those around her who she was.
As if anyone wouldn’t know who she was. Martin remembered the first time he had seen the queen, nearly four years before, and was still struck by how she acted to remind others of who she was. In every step, in every gesture of her hand, in her tone, she demanded respect for her station and her duty. It wasn’t hard to understand why she was able to hold the throne after her husband had died. She would rule her nation to the best of her abilities. And in the opinion of many Aeternans, she was doing a very good job at it.
At the moment, the queen sat on a throne, her grey eyes sweeping around the court, her expression serious thoughtfulness. Martin felt a pang of sadness to see the empty throne next to her. She refused to let the people to forget her husband. It was evident that she still mourned for her husband.
Martin paused, a familiar sense coming to him. A power he had even with the block. Someone was coming. Looking over his shoulder, he saw who.
“Can anyone sneak up on you?” Sona Merette asked, smiling as she joined him by the window.
Martin just shrugged, his usual answer whenever someone asked him that question. He glanced at the pretty research spy, not surprised that she was in the capital. Sona was about his age and held a similar reputation. Her skills were in books. She claimed she could find anyone or anything through records, given enough time. She lived up to her boast. That was the reason why she was in charge of finding the prince.
“Did you get a summons too?” he asked, still watching her carefully. He was one of the first names on her list of princes. No doubt she was also here to get other records to help with her search. He wondered idly if she had yet been able to get a hold of his locked records.
“Yes,” she said, gazing down at the court below. Martin shook his head slightly. She was a very pretty woman. Her features were delicate, a small nose, ready to smile lips, clever green eyes, and smooth skin. Her long brown hair was half tied behind her head, leaving the rest to cascade down her back. She currently dressed in what was known as the Standards; a simple blue skirt and red blouse that showed her nice figure.
Martin shook his head harder. Why was he getting distracted by how she dressed? He never noticed before.
“I got here when winter started,” she said casually, glancing at him with her penetrating eyes. “How was Evan’s Stand? It’s out from its siege, I’m guessing.”
“It wasn’t too boring,” he replied, shrugging again. “I just had to deal with thieves wanting to cut my throat and Seacats who wanted to play.”
Sona raised an eyebrow. “Seacats? I thought the Stand was taken over by the Venter navy.”
“They formed an alliance with the Seacats to take the Stand,” he corrected. “As far as I know, there was only one Venterian who ever stepped on the Stand.” The pretty researcher hummed softly to herself, switching her gaze back to the court. She knew there was something more to that story but was wise enough to leave it alone. He would be writing a report about it anyway. With a few certain details carefully left out. No need for anyone to know it was him the Venter mages were after.
“So,” Sona said, leaning against the window frame and looking at him again. “How have you been? It’s been a while since we last talked.”
Martin frowned. Now where is this coming from? He initially thought she was trying to pry information out of him about his unrecorded past, but that strange sense told him it was something else.
“Can’t complain too much,” he answered. “Suit sent me to the Stand to keep me out of trouble and I suddenly find myself in trouble anyway.”
Sona laughed. “The story of your life!”
Martin chuckled. “True, the story of my life. How have you been doing?” It was only polite to ask the question in return.
“Unlike your exciting life, mine is getting a bit dull.” She sighed, glancing through the window. “Not that I’m complaining. I love what I’m doing and I’m excited about my current project. It’s just… that sometimes it gets lonely. Books are great, but sometimes, people are better.” She looked at him again, a look in her eye that made Martin nervous for some reason. What did she want?
He faked a cough, stiffening a bit at her sanction of him. “Yes,” he agreed quietly, “sometimes people are better.” But not always.
“Well,” he said quickly, trying to change the subject. “Looks like court is almost done.” One of the three men on the dais was pounding a gavel to call the session done. Sona chuckled softly to herself.
“I guess it is. When did you get here?”
“About two hours ago,” he sighed. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“I can help you with that,” Sona offered. “I’m to meet up with the queen shortly. I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you here.”
“Thanks,” he muttered, frowning. “I think. Were you told what I’m to do, other than give stuffy politicians a report that I wrote out half a year ago?”
“I was told some details,” she admitted, waving the comment off carelessly. “But best let the queen tell you them. Speaking of the queen, I wasn’t lying when I said I was to meet with her shortly.”
Martin gave the pretty research spy a mocking bow. “Then we mustn’t keep the queen waiting!” He offered her his arm in a dramatic flair. Sona laughed at his antics but took his arm.
“Her waiting room is on this floor,” she told him, pointing in the opposite direction everyone else was going. “Shall we go?”
Martin chuckled and led her away, wondering why, for some reason, he was happy.
********
Ah, yes, the beginning of romance (please don't hold it against me if it sounds sappy. It's my frist time writing such stuff and it will get ugly later). But there you have it. The first of the second book. Next week, I'll introduce you to a character that actually annoys me (and Martin too). Brian Notment.
Enjoy the journey!
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