Shadowguard

Everna awoke four days later.

In the week since, many truths came to light. For the second time in three months, Pendel received the most shocking revelation yet, as news of Mayor Ashburn's survival spread like a prairie fire. It made headlines far beyond the town's borders, reaching every corner of the kingdom from Pendel in the south to the northernmost city of Everna. The featured story covered only as much as the Courts allowed, but it spoke of a foiled political takeover spearheaded by Shroud. They intended to sway the elections in favor of Windmore's unwilling son — whom had fled back to the capital when he learned of his father's intentions — in order to create an ideal puppet for Shroud's shadow government. While Arden's foresight that prevented the tragedy, they hailed Everna a hero for her part in killing Godwin.

Between her actions, Landen's forced confession courtesy of Leah's truth spells, and Arden's testimony, presenting her case to the Courts was no longer a concern. In a public announcement issued the day after her confrontation with Shroud, the Courts declared all charges against her dropped. They couldn't try her for a murder that never occurred. The implications of treason, however, would remain on record, regardless of the Courts' verdict.

It was a convoluted matter. The Courts would have to go through her records and alter them in ways beyond their allotted power. As they considered treason a direct offense against the Crown, only the Crown had the authority to approve the removal of the charges. No matter how many notes the Courts attached to her public record, it wouldn't matter. For most people in Inverness, merely being suspected of treason was as damning as a guilty verdict. Until they could remove those accusations, she likely wouldn't be able to go anywhere but Pendel without facing some repercussions.

The Courts leveled Landen with every charge possible, from treason to attempted murder. While Arden wanted the pleasure of executing him, the Courts refused the request and ordered Landen transferred to the capital. He would have the honor of being the example they initially wanted to make of her.

Lyra, whom she hadn't seen since the hour before the festival, faced a more precarious situation. Though unwilling and her role minor in hindsight, she was still involved. Arden insisted upon mercy; Shroud coerced her into participation through threats of violence against her family. The Courts stayed the noose, but they hadn't yet decided on a suitable punishment. Everna hoped they were lenient.

As much as it hurt to know her closest friend knew of what was happening and kept silent, she firmly believed Lyra had suffered enough. It wasn't as if she wanted to be involved, and if her parents, who otherwise wouldn't hesitate to brandish weapons and promise death towards anyone who dared do her wrong, could begrudgingly forgive her, then so could she. It was her fault she was in the guest rooms to begin with.

Regardless of what happened next, Everna was relieved. It was finally over and that's all that mattered — even if it took nearly dying to clear her name.

Leah had barely reached her in time, she'd been told. The damage was almost too much for her to heal; it took two healing potions, a hefty healing spell, and much pleading with the Golden Lady to repair the internal damage. Godwin's sword had ripped through more than just her stomach, and those wounds were difficult to mend, even for a high priestess as favored as Leah. With the other wounds she sustained — a shredded eye, a suspected punctured lung, and several broken bones — it was a miracle she'd recovered as well as she had.

All that remained now was a thin scar that wrapped around her right side, and one that began at her lip and trailed up through her left eye, stopping just short of her hairline. Leah had sealed the wounds and restored her vision, but from time to time, she still felt the stinging burn of the blade carving into her flesh. Her eye had hurt when she woke that morning, and the phantom pains hadn't subsided until early afternoon.

She'd likely never stop feeling it, Leah had said. She could heal the physical wounds, but she could do nothing for the trauma. It was psychological, and no spell or potion could combat it; at least, not that she knew of.

It was a small price to pay for surviving; Everna was lucky it didn't cost more.

"I see the local hero has woken up."

Everna glanced up from the book in her lap — a horribly dull romantic drama Lisette snatched from Vina that morning — and found Cian leaning against her door frame.

While she'd fully recovered from her wounds, and Leah cleared her for everything short of another suicidal fight with Shroud, her parents insisted she remain in bed for the rest of the week. It was rather annoying; she hadn't had a breath of fresh air, save what drifted through her window, since she woke a week prior. They wouldn't even let her stand on the curb for a few minutes.

"And I see his Royal Highness has finally returned from the capital," she teased, a smile touching her lips when he rolled his eyes. "Leah said you'd be gone for some time, if you came back at all."

He pushed away from the door, an envelope clutched between his fingers. "I'm just the errand boy this time. No one's trying to stick your head in a noose. Quite the opposite, in fact."

She took the envelope, turning it over in her hands. It carried the seal of the Crown, the impression of a crown of roses pressed into the hardened wax. There was nothing on the front. Frowning, she popped the seal and peaked at the letter inside.

It took two full reads before she understood words scrawled across the page.

"A full pardon?"

"Took a bit of hassling," Cian said, shrugging. "A bit of threatening and several pointed reminders that you nearly died because of their meddling before they agreed to overlook a couple laws and allow me to grant it. And, if you were to decide you wanted to go back to the academy, money wouldn't be an issue."

Everna pursed her lips and glanced back at the letter. Then she motioned for him to close her door. Confused, he obliged.

As soon as the latch clicked into place, she said, "Actually, I was considering joining Shadowguard — officially — instead."

Cian cocked his head, his brows drawn. "After what just happened, you want to throw yourself back into that mess?"

Carefully, she folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope, which she placed on her bedside table. She tossed aside her covers, stumbled from her bed, legs aching with disuse, and padded over to her vanity. From the top drawer on the right side, she withdrew the Shadowguard badge.

"I found this in the stronghold," she said, holding it up for him to see. "Osain said it belonged to one of his agents that went missing several months before Arden's staged murder. He told me to keep it, just in case I needed it."

She turned it over in her hands, allowing the warmth of the magic to spread over her. It was the first time in days she'd felt its touch, her sword and dagger stashed inside her bedside table. The rod was useless now. She'd used up the last of its magic when she'd taken out the Anwellian agent in the stronghold. It now occupied the rack she once hung her sword from, a keepsake of her own. In the future, perhaps she could enchant it with a different spell.

"I think, instead, I should earn the right to have it," she continued. "With the letter you just delivered, my ordeal with the Courts is over, but I don't think my trouble with Shroud is."

Cian glanced between her and the badge. "You think they'll come for you again?"

"If everything I've heard about them so far holds true, it's not a matter of whether they will, but when they will," she said. "Next time, I may not be so lucky."

If Shroud indeed believed she was a threat to the entire organization, they wouldn't turn a blind eye to her — not after she killed one of their Taskmasters. Their next attempt might not be as covert. Pendel may end up like Windhollow, and she couldn't bear the thought of that.

"You know what you're getting yourself into?" he asked, pulling the badge from her hand. "It won't be like it was at the safe house."

"What is it like, then?"

He leaned against her vanity, his arms crossed, and flipped the badge between his fingers, much in the way she'd seen rogues flip coins. "They'll send you to Alund, where the bulk of our new recruits go. You'll be there for a year, and there's no leaving until you've completed your training. No visitors or contact with the outside world. The only way out early is death."

"As horribly gruesome as that sounds, thank the gods," she sighed. "I love my parents to death, but I don't think I could handle them showing up uninvited like they did at the academy."

Cian snorted. "I'm surprised they're alright with this. I figured..." He paused, his gaze darting to the closed door. "You haven't told them."

"I'm not going to," she admitted. "I know they mean well, and I know they're worried, but they'll try to stop me. Mom's not fond of Shadowguard."

"She'll assume Osain put you up to it."

"And that's exactly why I've told no one but you. I want my parents to realize this was my decision, not something someone talked me into, and that won't happen unless I leave without them knowing."