Chapter 7: Maverick

Palace of the Equinox Throne: Kingdom of Delos

Maverick stood in front of the ornate, golden mirror in his bedchamber, looking over the velvety green suit his mother had procured for him to wear tonight. She would be matching him in dazzling emeralds and shining gold. He ran a finger along the smooth material and frowned. Only the best for his brother's betrothal feast.

"This might be a good thing, you know," Aditya spoke from directly behind him, her slender fingers smoothing his lapel as she reached around his shoulders. "You've been trying to get King Helios to warm up to the idea of magic for ages, trying to make this place a refuge for conjurers of all nations, a safe haven for my people."

"A haven, yes. Not a barracks," Maverick told her with a sigh, letting her spin him around so that they were face to face. She tossed his tie around his neck and began to tie it for him. Maverick met her eyes with a serious gaze. "He doesn't mean to see you live."

She paused but only for a moment before she blinked and resumed tying his tie. He kept his eyes on her expression. Aditya was strong, well guarded, but there were moments, brief though they were, in which he could see her true thoughts as plainly as if they were written upon her face. This was not one of those times.

"Your mother has arranged for you to meet another noblewoman," she said after a moment. Maverick took the change in conversation in stride.

"What does she look like?"

Before his very eyes and with what appeared to be a minimal amount of effort, Aditya shifted her appearance so that she was no longer the fiery-haired, bright-eyed, lithe woman he knew well. Now she was petite, much shorter, with soft brown hair and doe eyes. Maverick shrugged and turned back to the mirror.

"Pretty, at least," he commented as Aditya shifted back to herself.

The door opened then and another Sahir, which King Helios so lovingly referred to as Maverick's Rescues, entered his bedchamber. Zephyr was his name and he was a stout, brutally built warrior who had fled from Karil in the early days of the inquisition. He averted his eyes from Aditya, as he always did in her presence, and turned to the prince.

"They are expecting you," Zephyr spoke simply and Maverick nodded, reaching for a glass of amber liquor he had set nearby and downing the whole thing in one sip. He sputtered and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, earning a low chuckle from Zephyr and a roll of the eyes from Aditya.

"God help me," Maverick cursed, slamming the glass down and storming toward the door. "These zealous Idorians are going to be the death of me."

"Do not speak such a fate aloud," Aditya hissed, joining him on his jaunt toward the grand dining hall. She flanked him on the right while Zephyr remained on his left.

"If it isn't the foolish princess and her scheming father, it will be that powerful conjurer out there calling himself the Chaos," Maverick muttered. "They say he's the most powerful Sahir in centuries, maybe ever."

"Varje människa har sin lika," Zephyr said as the three of them reached the enormous double doors which marked the royal family's entrance to the grand dining hall. Music and conversation and bawdy laughter echoed from within. "It's an old Karilish saying. It means 'every man has his equal'. Let us pray he meets his."

Maverick gave a nod of agreement and Aditya and Zephyr shuffled off toward their own entertainment for the evening. Then the prince faced the doors and took a deep breath before pushing through them with a fake smile and a gallant wave.

He spent the betrothal feast in much the same way that he spent every royal obligation. With a smile on his face and a drink in his hand. Aditya was right about the young woman that his mother had chosen for him. She introduced him herself. Maverick was kind enough for a time but became bored with her when she failed to hold up her end of the conversation, preferring to bat her eyelashes and stare at him wistfully instead. A fine thing for a woman to do if she wasn't one which his mother hoped to secure him in marriage. If a moony eyed distraction was what he wanted, he could find them anywhere. And he did. They flocked to the prince at the feast just as they did at every other party in the palace. And Orion noticed.

Maverick was used to his brother's jealous stares by now. He had endured them his whole life. Others had made jokes about it. Why should a firstborn heir envy a second son? Because Maverick was well liked and Orion had the personality of a used washcloth. Because Maverick had the beauty of his mother and Orion had the homeliness of his. Because Maverick laughed and drank and danced and Orion sulked and pouted and groaned. He could go on but that list seemed sufficient. Still, he felt his brother's eyes on him even now, even at his own feast, discontent to watch Maverick sit among the nobility, men and women alike, laughing loudly and telling grand, exaggerated stories.

All in all, it was a feast like any other. That is, until the doors to the hall burst open so viciously that women standing near them screamed and ran away. The king stood from his seat as half a dozen men dressed in the dark grey and black uniforms of the Karilish military marched through the dining hall. The nobility tripped over themselves to get out of their way as their commander strode straight up to the dais and fixed our king with the most hateful glare Maverick had ever seen.

"Commander Jaromer, what is the meaning of this?" King Helios' voice boomed through the open hall.

"To halt these treacherous festivities," Commander Jaromer snapped as a corded muscle at his throat bobbed with barely contained rage. The king, himself, was having trouble reigning in his own fury, upper lip twitching at the intrusion. "Any union between the great families of Delos and those of Idoria will be considered an act of aggression against Karil. Seeing as the Idorians have assassinated our King."

A note of whispered surprise echoed through the chamber as aristocrats looked at each other and toward their king and the gathered Karilish soldiers with alarm.

"Where is your proof that it was the Idorians whom assassinated your King, Jaromer?" King Helios spat. "I was under the impression that it was a rogue rebel, a girl in a dress."

"With magic in her veins," Commander Jaromer hissed. "Magic has been extinguished from Karil."

"Is that so? Then why is my son still receiving refugees from across your borders every day?"

Commander Jaromer's eyes narrowed and he took a step forward but, at his movement, half a dozen of King Helios' own guards drew their swords. The scrape of sword exiting scabbard echoed throughout the otherwise deadly silent hall and Maverick glanced, wide eyed, between the king and the commander. Someone had to do something before this got out of hand.

"Are you here to threaten me, Commander?" the King asked, his voice low, his gaze narrowed.

"Barbarians," the Princess spat. She had stood as well and was leaning over the table now, spewing venom at the Karilish. "Murdering, genocidal brutes."

"Enough," the King bellowed, turning to his guards. "Escort the Karilish out of the hall. They have caused enough of a disturbance for the evening."

Before he could think better of it, Maverick was on his feet.

"You're throwing them out?" he cried even as Danica moved to obey his father's orders.

"Maverick," Valencia spoke softly at her son's side, quietly pleading with him to sit back down as the king turned his narrowed gaze upon his youngest son.

"Are they not welcome in our halls?"

"Mav."

"Are we to be at war with the Karilish, then?"

"Danica," King Aphelion spat as the last of the Karilish soldiers exited the hall, "take my son with you as well. Perhaps a night or two in the dungeons will teach him to hold his tongue since being sent to his bedroom like a petulant child did not."

Danica hesitated but only for a moment before stepping forward and respectfully requesting that Maverick accompany her to the dungeons. He did so without a word, holding his head high and glaring at his father all the way out of the dining hall.

As it turns out, the King was quite serious about Maverick's stay in the dungeons. He missed nearly all of the betrothal festivities the court had planned for the visiting nobles over the next few days. Small mercies, then. Danica felt terrible about housing him among criminals and cutthroats so she took it upon herself to personally bring him any comforts that she could manage and he could request. He spent the entirety of his stay catching up on correspondences and reading. In truth, it was almost a vacation. Or it would have been if he weren't so worried that his father and brother were somewhere up above, making decisions that would eventually tear his country apart if they remained unchecked, unquestioned.

"Are you ever going to learn, my son?"

Maverick looked up on his third day in isolation to find that his mother had come to visit. She stood away from the bars of his cell in a pale pink gown, her blonde hair flowing freely around her shoulders and down her back. She glanced at her surroundings, grimaced in disgust, and then remained still, refusing to move in a way that risked touching any of her surroundings.

"We cannot go to war with Karil," Maverick told her with a sigh.

"I know."

"And we cannot take the side of Idoria's lunacy."

"I know. The King does too."

Maverick looked up as she waved a hand and a guard stepped forward with the key to his cell. A moment later, he was a free man. Valencia stepped forward and straightened his jacket.

"Bathe," she said simply and then turned away, heading out of the dungeon. "You smell like the rats."

Maverick hastened his steps to catch up with her, joining her on the walk up the stairs back to the palace above.

"What have I missed?" he asked.

"King Jareth has arrived,"she said. Maverick tensed. The King of Idoria was here. "He arrived late last night. We are to dine with him for breakfast this morning. You, of course, are not welcome after your performance at the betrothal feast. Helios believes it prudent to keep you away from Idorian royalty for the moment. You caused quite a scandal, you know."

"I'm sure Jareth is thrilled that father kicked the Karilish regiment out of the feast," Maverick spoke through gritted teeth.

"Perhaps. But Helios made it clear that he has no intention of thrusting Delos into a war with Karil, alliance with Idoria or not."

Maverick said nothing, less impressed with the King's attempt at smoothing things over than his mother intended. It wasn't until they had reached the upper levels, the residences of the royal family, that Valencia spoke again.

"Jareth claims he left the Chaos in charge while he was away," she said, her voice low.

Maverick paused, turning to face his mother.

"Not the prince?" he asked, curiously.

Bijan Eretria, first son and heir to King Jareth Eretria, had always been a bit foolish, perhaps. Slow to think, quick to act. But for his father to appoint a veritable stranger guardianship over the country while he was away rather than his own son, his own heir, it spoke volumes. But whether it spoke more about Bijan's ineptitude or the Chaos' hold over Idoria, Maverick was not yet sure. It was interesting, nonetheless, and worth investigating. Valencia knew it. That was why she had told him. She was curious herself and knew her son had the resources to learn more for the both of them.

"I will see you for dinner," his mother said, a meaningful look in her eyes which seemed to say that she would ensure he was forgiven by then. With that, she left, heading off in the direction of her own rooms and leaving him to go to his.

Craving nothing more than a warm bath, a decent meal, and a well deserved nap, Maverick did stride away in the direction of his bedchamber. But when he saw who awaited him outside of his door, eyes darting around anxiously as she wrung her hands nervously together, he knew no rest would be had.

"Delphi," he greeted with a tired smile as he approached. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You said to come to you straight away if I ever saw anything I deemed important," she spoke in a rush.

"And you have?"

He raised a brow. She hesitated, glancing at the door to his bedchamber. He understood the action and stepped forward.

"Please," he said, pushing open his door, "come in."

She did, her skirts flowing behind her as she pushed past him into the enormous bedroom beyond. She began pacing immediately, still wringing her hands together and biting her lip.

"I've been seeing the same thing for a while now," she told him, still speaking quickly even though they were alone. "It wears on a person, you know, seeing the same thing over and over again. I haven't– it's never been like this before. Usually, I'll have a vision once a month, maybe a few times a week around the equinox, but nothing more. Unless they change, of course. But this, Maverick, I've seen it every night for two weeks."

He frowned. The terror in her eyes when she finally looked up at him told him everything he needed to know about just how much he was going to like what she had to say.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's different every time," she said. "That's the thing. The images, they're constantly shifting, changing order and shape. Blood and fire and iron."

"Iron? You're sure it's iron? Sometimes other metals can be made to look like-"

"I think I know what iron is, Maverick," she snapped. He fell silent.

She was right. If anyone knew what iron looked like, it would be Delphi Orelik. Captured on the borders of Karil and kept in an iron cage, starved of both food and magic for months, she had shriveled away to practically nothing by the time Maverick's Sahir had rescued her. Neva had claimed if they'd been even a day later, she would have died. Delphi had cringed at the very thought of iron ever since.

"Okay," Maverick said slowly. "So war. You're seeing war."

"Never clearly," she replied. "Almost as if the future of the bloodshed is uncertain. I cannot see who is involved or what politics are at play. But I see the blood. I see the fighting, the battles, men dying. The only certainty is that war is coming. I just don't know how. Or when."

"And this is what has been troubling you?"

"No. What troubles me is the end. At the end of every vision, every single one, there is one clear thing, one constant that stays the same no matter what."

"What is it?"

"A girl."

Maverick cocked his head to the side.

"A girl?" he asked, brows raised, beginning to wonder if this was some elaborate prank his chosen Sahir were playing on him. But Delphi nodded emphatically. She was being serious.

"Yes. I see her every time. She's in Delos but I don't know where. Her surroundings are always blurry but she herself... she's crystal clear. The visions, they always start the same. Fire and blood. Swords crossing and arrows flying. War. Always war. Every time. War. And I can tell it's the future because it shifts when I see it. One way one day, slightly different the next. But still war. Always war. But lately, at the end... just before the vision is over, I see her. And it's not the future, Maverick. It's the present. Sometimes I see her laughing with a friend whose face I cannot see. Sometimes I see her training. Sometimes eating. Sometimes she's sleeping and I swear I can almost feel her dreams."

"What does this mean?"

"She's important, Maverick. I don't know how and I don't know why but it's like I'm being pulled to her, pointed to her from every direction. I think we should at least find her."

With that, Delphi collapsed onto an armchair in the corner of the room, staring at the carpet as if amazed by what she was seeing, what she was feeling. It unsettled Maverick to see her so flustered. Delphi was usually the picture of grace. Now, she was uneasy, uncertain. It wasn't a comforting sight.

"It's like my inner eye is traveling across the land to sit in front of her, to give me a view of her. I can't explain how I know it's happening right now but I know it is. I've never experienced anything like–"

The door opened suddenly, interrupting her and Delphi fell silent the moment she heard the click of the lock. Maverick spun around to see Zephyr frozen in the threshold.

"My apologies, Mav," he said. "I didn't realize you weren't alone."

Maverick looked from Zephyr to Delphi and sighed before issuing the order.

"Bring me Neva."