Key & Locke: The Five Moons Series Read online

  Fe Gilvarry

  Key & Locke

  Copyright © 2021 by Fe Gilvarry

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  First edition

  ISBN: 9798703476741

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

  Find out more at reedsy.com

  To my family (and Scout)

  PFBFF and friends

  And the readers

  And Hazel’s Bakery for their apple pies

  Have fun finding all the allusions.

  Contents

  Acknowledgement

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  About the Author

  Acknowledgement

  I’d like to thank Megan for editing the first version of this book. It required a LOT of work, and Megan’s gentle suggestions formed it into what it is today. Thank you.

  To Mabel, the cover is exquisite. Thank you.

  Chapter 1

  Then

  Stiff branches scratched my face and hands as I viciously tore through them, running as fast as I could with the extra forty pounds attached to my back. The blood on my cheek slowly trickled down as the night offered a cool breeze compared to the moisture coating my skin. My breath became visible before me, combining with the mist that snaked through the forest. Even the three moons’ light was not sufficient while I tried to place my steps and avoid tripping over fallen branches or small brushes. The voices behind me echoed closer with every stride, but the chasers never came into view.

  How long have I been running?

  It was likely just minutes, but my legs burned, and my breathing came up in short gasps. I tried to inhale precious air while the wind blew against me, as if it attempted to stop my run all together.

  The tall forest around me was dead quiet which starkly contrasted my own heavy steps, but this was the preferable option rather than hearing wolves howl near me. The occasional sounds of the owl were my only companion, yet my mind started to wonder about other creatures that I could potentially encounter. Wolves weren’t the worst option in these parts of the land.

  I dashed out of the thicker part of the forest, where the dim outlines of the trees grew tightly together. Their branches, thicker and longer, left marks over my exposed skin. The dark outfit I wore blended into the shadows of the forest with a thick coat that reached my wrists, soft trousers, and heavy, black boots that were useful for any terrain.

  Stop thinking, just sprint. Find the River. Cross it.

  For months, I had studied the route to lead us far away from the Kingdom of Agrestia: through the town, hide in Karley’s hay cart, once the cart passes through the gate and reaches the forest seven miles down, climb out and follow the path heading south, four miles in-find the river that runs between Agrestia and Osta, cross it, and keep running until we’ve reached the other side of the world. That would have been the plan had not everything gone array.

  Shouts from people—difficult to discern how many—crept closer and closer, yet my body started to fail me. I was physically fit, but my endurance was never tested for this duration or under strenuous circumstances.

  Everything burned and my right knee buckled slightly with each stride until suddenly, I heard it.

  Skidding to a halt, almost slipping on leaves, I paused to catch my breath for a few precious seconds with my hands on my knees. My tied back dark hair stuck to my sweaty neck as I checked my surroundings. The sweet sound of rushing water, glazing over rocks and rubbing against the strips of land around it, found my ears.

  Thank the gods.

  I changed direction to where it seemed the nearest. Chancing a look behind me, I glimpsed the quickly approaching pursuers and the silver gleam of their swords and the light of bejeweled scabbards hanging from their waist. They were closing the distance too fast.

  Good thing I dealt with the dogs and Yule beforehand. That would have been a nightmare, and I definitely wouldn’t have made it this far.

  The over-sized bundle on my back started to stir as well. Ah damn, just a little closer. The river up ahead flowed, glittering in the moonlight, a silver snake compared to the dark earth around it.

  Come on, godsdammit. You’re almost there.

  As soon as I crossed the river, I’d find myself in Osta, the neighboring territory that the soldiers stalking me would not cross. Unless they wished for death by arrows and a swing of the sword. Agrestia and Osta declared war almost a decade ago, and it’s been bloody ever since. Soldiers on the Ostan side were stationed to guard the land along the river, keeping an eye out for any approaching Agrestian army or any refugees who managed to escape the city. Osta practiced a policy of open arms to people escaping the clutches of the tyranny of King Avyken, the ruling monarch of Agrestia.

  It was a tradition across every kingdom that the ruling monarch’s name started with the same letter as their land: King Avyken of Agrestia, King Oktur of Osta, Queen Isibelli of Istern, Queen Fosa of Fyderlle and Eria of Epellid.

  At least I hoped that Neik was correct about the route and that I’d be safe in Osta. If the soldiers didn’t appear, we were done for.

  The Agrestian soldiers could simply cross the river and reach us before the Ostans completed their rounds at the territory’s edge. I wouldn’t have any strength remaining after swimming because the river was in its heaviest flow of the season.

  Rain had poured constantly the past few days too, making the ground muddy. My right ankle almost twisted when I hit a particularly slippery patch. I flinched a little as the soldiers began to taunt me, breaking me out of my worries, their shouts creating echoes in the air and their steps thundering behind me. The marching was like drums pounding faster and faster with an increasing tempo.

  Bahbum bahbum bahbum.

  There!

  The forest cleared away as I finally broke from its trees and raced across the long grass that brushed my clad calves. Scattered everywhere were flowers, hard to tell what color and type with the lack of light, brushing my ankles as I rushed by, but I had no time to stop and admire them. As I sprinted by, a subtle haze of floral scent encompassed me, like the flowers were enticing me to stay and relax. Out of nowhere, an arrow whizzed past me on my right and speared the muddy ground ahead. My legs gave one last push towards the river, spurred by the thought that the soldiers had time to stop and aim at me in the dark. The air I forced into my lungs made it feel like my chest was about to burst.

  “You stupid bastard! We have orders to capture and last resort to injure them. We’ll all be as good as dead if they die, especially by one of our own hands!” one of the men gruffly shouted to the shooter.

  Guess one of the younger soldier’s adrenaline coursed too intensely to think clearly.

  Luck was on my side that the soldier wasn’t an expert with the bow yet. But if he was skilled enough to almost hit me at that range, he could aim for my legs. Although, arrows were risky because they might accidentally pierce the bundle on my back.

  As soon as I arrived at the edge of the river, I rushed in, gasping as the cold hit
me like one of Neik’s punches and the numbing sensation continued to climb up my body in tingles as I waded in. The rocky, shallow part quickly gave way to a deeper riverbed. Soon, my feet left the rocky ground, and I swam while keeping my back as dry as possible.

  My clothes and the weight on my back threatened to drag me down to the unforgiving depths, but the moon offered the minimal amount of light necessary to see the bank on the other side. Seeing my final destination, a wave of energy hit me which helped me tread harder.

  Desperately, I cupped my hands in the icy water and kicked hard, the numbness making my movements sluggish. My teeth chattered as I allowed the current to carry us to save essential energy.

  The river was ten meters across, but it traveled rapidly and the path into Osta was in the direction the river took me anyway. I considered myself a strong swimmer, but I never underestimated the current or river, that just welcomed mistakes to happen.

  Twenty seconds later, I heard a couple of splashes behind me and glanced over my shoulder. The current forced me downriver a bit but the soldiers simply angled their run to enter the river closer to me. Three of the soldiers ran into the water while others stripped, so their armor wouldn’t weigh them down. I swallowed a sob of frustration that threatened to escape my throat. There were no other options besides making it to the other side. I refused to contemplate what may occur if we were caught.

  Wait. Where are the Ostan soldiers?

  I felt the color drain from my face as I strained my eyes to see any movement on the other side. The dark outlines of swaying trees were the only signs of life and the realization that there were no soldiers stationed on the other side almost knocked the breath out of me.

  Shit. What should I do? They better be coming down this road.

  As soon as my boots found purchase on the riverbed on the other side, I scrambled up the bank, slipping on a couple of rocks and cutting my palms. Not giving my body time to tense and freeze, I sprinted towards the main road that led into the Ostan forest.

  As soon as possible, these wet clothes need to come off. Can’t let her get sick.

  “Hulllo-o-o-o-o-o-o honey-y-y-y. You know you can’t run forever,” someone sang.

  I recognized Ruven’s deep voice that triggered shivers through me. Known in Agrestia’s city for his brutality and spontaneous bouts of violence, he avoided punishment because of his rank in the army as a General. His talent in tracking and wartime strategies at such a young age made him a borderline genius, yet he had a serious lack of empathy. Rumors that he had magic in his blood spread across Agrestia when he first arrived.

  My first time encountering Ruven, I witnessed one of his spurts of violence. Like usual, I roamed around the city, which was typical of my weekly routine, looking to make connections with folks without arousing suspicion. Walking down an alley and heading towards the main square of the city, I rounded the corner and spotted him and a group of soldiers, all gleaming in the sunlight with their polished silver armor. They didn’t carry their shields, but their broadswords were sheathed at their sides. The market square bustled with unwashed people of all ages and desperate vendors lined both sides of the street. The scents of garbage and human excrement soaked the air, many walked around with a cloth over their nose and mouth.

  Once a thriving trading center, the vendors used to sell massive amounts of fish, spices, clothing from Istern and other kingdoms, exotic foods, valuable jewelry, and other miscellaneous items. Agrestia’s City was the biggest settlement in the kingdom and sat at the bottom of the Agrestian castle, Harrow.

  The massive structure, composed of smooth, white stone, stood above the inner wall with its three main towers piercing the sky. The largest, center tower of Harrow housed the royal family and was restricted to a few trusted individuals. The right and left towers were slightly narrower and smaller than the center, but still stood proudly straight. Symmetrical windows dotted the castle, allowing natural light to penetrate through into rooms and some terraces lined different floors. From the Tenne Sea, Harrow sparkled white opal against the dark, rugged cliffs that rose behind and under the castle. Harrow was quite the view, designed to have an impressive front courtyard of shining stone with fountains that housed marble statues.

  Over the years, King Avyken built new additions onto the castle, extending its width and increasing its height.

  A few decades ago, Agrestia’s City was a center of medicine, arts, culture, and communication. Now, with King Avyken on the throne, the streets were covered in rubbish, people of all ages begged, and the vendors struggled to sell the one or two items left on their stalls. Everyone in the outer city struggled because of the recent implementation of higher taxes and the trade the King refused to take part in with the surrounding kingdoms. All of the taxpayer money went to the army to build advanced weapons and warships. An added predicament was the King’s army abused their power by scouring the streets for victims. Resentment towards the monarchy and starvation prowled through the streets.

  Ruven matched the descriptions in rumors almost perfectly. Towering over the crowd, with broad shoulders, dark greasy hair, black eyes, and skin as white as a ghost, this man wore death on him like a cloak. A townsperson carried a basket of loaves past the group of soldiers with his head bowed, not calling attention to himself. Fate dealt him an unfortunate hand when Ruven bumped into the pitiful figure as he turned to lead the soldiers, causing the man to drop the bread.

  Plop!

  The loaves landed in a puddle, splashing Ruven’s expensive uniform with dirty, street water. Uneven surfaces extensively covered the street with the lack of upkeep of the cobblestone roads through the city. Because the drainage system hadn’t been updated in decades, there were always puddles decorating the road.

  The whole marketplace froze with their eyes on the scene, and all seemed to hold one collective breath.

  With all the focus on him, the poor middle-aged man slowly sank to his knees with his trembling hands in a praying position. Ruven’s eyes, on the other hand, were alight with anticipation. His expression a little too calm, he slowly scanned his stained uniform. Compared to the clothes on the bread man, Ruven’s splashed armor was pristine. Likely, they were cleaned every night from the blood of people he brutalized on the city streets.

  The clothes the victim wore were the equivalent of rags, so worn, that no color was distinguishable in them. He dressed like everyone around him. Every face watching the scene was gaunt and clothes hung off their bodies, displaying their state of desperation. The loss of bread in the puddle probably could have fed a family for a week.

  “Well, oh well, what do we have here? Isn’t this a sight?” Ruven goaded as he looked up from his armor.

  The man’s lower lip quivered. “Please, sir. I meant no harm. I will pay for new clothes. I have a family. Two daughters.” The citizen collapsed with his forehead touching the ground perhaps trying to hide from the nightmare that had become his reality.

  Ruven’s calm expression changed for a millisecond into one of deep disgust.

  After a few moments, he snapped his fingers, eyes revealing his wicked excitement. “I have an idea! That bread was probably very needed, correct me if I’m wrong.” He paused on purpose, challenging anyone to contradict him. “We can’t let it go to waste, no no no. So, I give you permission to eat the bread in the puddle. Go ahead,” his voice was patient, as if he was speaking to a child.

  The group of ten soldiers behind Ruven snickered and shoved each other, obviously finding this situation amusing, like a game. The man had two choices: to eat or not to eat. Already humiliated, if he refused, it would be a direct insult towards Ruven, who impatiently tapped his foot with his muscled arms crossed.

  The city’s people glanced at each other suspiciously, still waiting for the explosion that was bound to occur. The man slowly cupped his hands in the puddle and gathered the soaked particles, so dissolved they couldn’t even pass as chunks anymore, and brought it up to his mouth, swallowing it with a grimac
e.

  That was the wrong reaction.

  “Not to your liking? Well, you’re not eating fast enough.” With one move, Ruven grabbed the back of the man’s head by the hair and slammed it into the ground.

  I cringed as everyone heard the bones smash from down the street.

  Ruven casually tossed the poor sod away into a pile of garbage on the street, disregarding him like he finished eating a chicken bone and threw it to the dogs. “I’m done here. Take this filth to a prison cell, no food. He wasted it himself.”

  Ruven’s soldiers raced to pick up the unconscious man, blood dripping from a gash on his forehead and nose set at an unnatural angle.

  Ruven turned to walk back towards the castle. The spectators murmured together, disgruntled, but too scared to protest against the brutal treatment. For some reason, I found myself picking up a solid gray stone on the ground near where I stood. My body automatically stepped into the center of the street and my arm, as if it had a mind of its own, threw the stone. It sailed through the air, smacking Ruven in the center of his back with precision that even surprised me.

  A loud CLANG rang out as the crowd gasped in synchronization and switched their view towards me.

  Oh, fuck.

  I turned and sprinted back down the alley as I heard Ruven curse and shout at his soldiers to follow me. They had no chance of finding me, my hood was tied tightly around my face through the whole encounter and too many people crowded the streets, making it easy to disappear. Ruven may have even believed that I was a young teenage boy due to my trousers.

  I almost smiled at the memory. It was the second time now that I found myself running away from this man with dire consequences at stake.

  The taunting of the soldiers brought me back from the past. The path appeared five meters to my left, so I continued to run, the rocks giving way to grass. Although it was in the dead of night, I decided I would bang on the door of the first cottage I encountered to receive any help if the Ostans did not emerge.