Liberate

  Table of Contents

  Liberate | Tranquility Reading Order | Tales of Tranquility

  Gods of Tranquility

  Historian’s Note for New Readers

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  History, Culture, and Society

  Also By Krista D. Ball

  Liberate

  Tranquility Reading Order

  Tales of Tranquility

  Blaze

  Grief

  Interlude (Interlude is a short collection of stories)

  Fury

  Schemes

  Gods of Tranquility

  The Gods of Tranquility story arc is written in such a way that readers can immediately jump to this book to pick up the story. However, reading the first arc, Tales of Tranquility, will allow readers to see the historical events all unfold.

  Liberate

  Ambush (forthcoming)

  Surrender (forthcoming – series finale)

  Historian’s Note for New Readers

  LADY BETHANY, DAUGHTER of Apexia, had clawed her way to the top ranks of the Elven Service’s top military elite. Bethany lived as an Elorian – a half-elf, half-human – and her true identity as the daughter of the Goddess Apexia was a closely guarded secret.

  She had worked hard, fought in battles, and expected a long, rewarding life protecting those under her care. But that was before her twin sister, Sarissa, returned from exile. Bethany soon discovered Sarissa was addicted to brutal Magic and human sacrifice, twisted inside, and abusing ancient prophecies to overthrow their mother and destroy everything Bethany held sacred.

  Bethany sacrificed everything to stop Sarissa. And it still wasn’t enough: Sarissa escaped.

  Bethany raised an army and marched north, to the nation of Taftlin. There, she reunited with her former lover, Arrago, who was leading the rebellion against King Daniel and his Magi army. They took Taftlin from both Daniel and the Magi, but Bethany became trapped behind enemy lines. It was there that Bethany discovered the true source of Magic, and Bethany was forced to make the biggest sacrifice imaginable in the name of peace: the death of the Gentle Goddess, her own mother.

  After the end of the Magic War, Bethany returned to her homeland to clean up the political disaster that was brewing there. However, she didn’t stay long, and returned to Taftlin. There, she worked to uncover an assassination plot and protect King Arrago and Prince Henry. She decided Taftlin was now her home and married Arrago in a small, private ceremony.

  FOR CHARACTER DOSSIERS, race information, and cultural clash history, check the Index at the end of this book.

  Prologue

  SOMEWHERE IN ORCHARD Park

  Erem contorted his torso until he successfully pushed his face into the bowl of slop the guards had provided him. It was undercooked horse feed, but at least it would stop the feeling that his stomach was collapsing. The chains chafed against the raw skin of his wrists, chains that held his arms spread apart and his feces-stained legs permanently bowed under him. He pushed past that pain and stench. The food was more important.

  He’d long lost track of his time in misery. He always asked the guards. Before, they’d sometimes tell him. The new guards wouldn’t speak to him, however. They’d moved out the last of the prisoners that would sometimes be placed in the adjacent cells. With no other prisoners near him, the endless solitude and torture wore at his sanity. He’d long given up hope he’d be rescued. Bethany and the others probably didn’t even know he was still alive. That’s what Jud said; they were told he was dead. No one was coming for him now.

  “How are you today?” came the familiar voice from the darkness.

  Jud stepped into a patch of light in front of Erem’s iron cage. He was always fastidious about his appearance, and his visitations to the prison had not altered this habit. He wore shimmering armour that had never seen so much as a bar fight, let alone combat. The old Holy Father of the temple used to call him Juddlebug, to get under his skin. But Torius was dead for years now, and Jud remained.

  “I’m cold today,” Erem said. He didn’t push any sarcasm into his voice. Just the plain fact that he was cold. Jud would figure it out and it was easier if Erem just went along. The interrogations and experiments were always easier if he went along with Jud’s plan.

  “Your wounds haven’t healed. Is it because of the cold?”

  Erem shrugged, causing his chains to jingle. “I don’t know.”

  Jud put his hands behind his back and paced in front of the cell. “You say that you don’t know, and yet your wounds keep healing. You say you don’t do Magic, and yet I see Magic before me. Unless you are saying that you are secretly a half-Rygent and you have been withholding that information.”

  “No, Lord Jud,” Erem said as meekly as possible. It wasn’t hard. The gestures and tones had been well beaten into him. “I didn’t know I had this ability until you locked me up.”

  Again, nothing but the truth. He did assume this healing was the after effects of Apexia’s grace upon his. Erem didn’t remember ever telling Jud about Apexia’s death, but somehow, he’d figured it out. Or, barring that, had tricked Erem into confessing when barely conscious. Either way, it was done.

  Erem couldn’t even wait for the Wind now, as it seemed death wasn’t interested in him. Even the infection in his lungs eventually cleared up, as did the gash in his bicep. The broken bones healed, as did the constant prison sicknesses that he’d developed. Any one of those should have killed him without a healer’s attention; yet still he lingered in a waking nightmare.

  Jud made a thoughtful sound. “I wonder if it is the starvation or the cold that is causing your ability to flounder. I shall order full meals for the next week to be delivered, and then we shall see how your wounds progress. You will remain cold, however, to keep the experiment pure.”

  Jud had done this test before, and others like it. Food, sleep, and warmth all helped rejuvenate Erem’s healing capabilities. He seemed to only be able to heal himself but not others – though Jud had tried various techniques to entice Erem into healing others. He would have helped if he could, but he didn’t even understand how he was healing himself, let alone how to heal others.

  “Whatever you think is best, Lord Jud,” Erem replied.

  “Good,” Jud said, nodding in a pleased fashion. “Very good. I will order the guards to bring more food. As much as you want. Just remember. No hoarding like last time.”

  “Yes, Lord Jud.” Erem had taken the brunt of Jud’s lashes for hiding crusts of bread. This time, he’d have to dig several smaller holes so that it won’t be as noticeable.

  “I sincerely wish I could let you go, Erem, but you witnessed the death of our Gentle Goddess. I must be cautious. You understand, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Lord Jud,” Erem said automatically. Jud always said this at the end of their meetings. At least this time, it meant there would be no beatings or starvation. He’d have to gorge as much food as possible, as the starvation would return once the healing ability began anew.

  Jud left without another word to Erem, though he did clearly hear Jud ordering hearty portions of foo
d for Erem throughout the night. He was exhausted – from cold, hunger, and lack of sleep – so he slackened back to the straw-covered stone. If he were lucky, he would get some sleep before the guards returned. The last time, they stopped feeding him because he’d slept when Jud said he was to stay awake.

  He closed his eyes and dreamt of yellow silk dresses and blond, bouncy curls. He should have done more when he’d had the chance. He would have liked the memory of soft skin against...cold...and...

  Chapter 1

  “BETHANY, SLOW DOWN!” Arrago shouted at her down the corridor. “Just...dammit, woman! Wait!”

  Bethany wasn’t prepared to stop, which Arrago bloody well knew. She had been waiting months for news about Erem’s disappearance and finally, finally, he’d been located. She didn’t have a moment to waste for her husband to put on his damned lounging robe and slippers because his delicate toes were chilly. Besides, the carpeted corridor kept her bare feet free of splinters and decently warm enough, despite the cold midnight temperatures of the palace. If she could handle it, so could he. Wasn’t he born in this frozen country anyway?

  “For the love of Apexia! Bethany, stop! Wait!” Arrago said through panting breaths.

  She didn’t slow her pace. If he’d been so careless sitting on his throne to end up breathless walking down a hallway, she wasn’t going to humor him. “Jovan’s found Erem. He needs my help. I’m leaving.”

  “It’s the middle of the night!” Arrago shouted at her, not even bothering to hide his exasperation for the benefit of the servants that lined the long corridor. “You couldn’t go anywhere even if you wanted to!”

  She could bloody well go anywhere she bloody well wanted, if she just put her mind to it. Erem was one of them. He was her friend, and she would be damned if she let Goddess only knew what happen to him. No. She was going to get him. She owed it to him.

  “Bethany, please!”

  She stopped marching to whirl around and face him. His braid was undone, and his long, dark brown hair was in his face. He was hopping along, shoving his feet into fur-lined slippers. They’d both been preparing for bed when the letter from Jovan had come.

  “Erem is one of ours. He needs my help. I’m not going to leave him there to die.”

  “Stop talking nonsense!” Arrago shouted at her. “I’m not asking you to leave him there! I’m asking you to calm down long enough to tell me what’s in the stupid letter so that I can help you.”

  “My friend is being tortured and you want me to be calm. Has that crown on your head caused brain damage?”

  Arrago jabbed a finger at her. “Don’t play dirty.”

  Her temper was too hot for her to care if she was or not. She needed to find Erem. Jovan’s letter said he himself was in danger and he couldn’t get Erem out of the hole he was being chained up in without help. And lots of it.

  Well, Bethany could provide help, and lots of it.

  She was about to lash back out at Arrago for slowing her down when the sound of hinges creaking interrupted them. Behind them, a door opened and a rumpled man stuck his head out. His long, dark hair wasn’t tied in its customary braid. The slight rat’s nest of having been sleeping on damp hair wasn’t customary, either.

  Edmund Greyfeather let out a face-splitting yawn. He didn’t have his eye patch on, and she caught herself staring; she hadn’t seen him without the patch, she’d realized. She adverted her eyes to the petite woman in a white sleeping gown poking her head out of the cracked door, too. Her normally smooth, dark brown skin was blotchy and her kind eyes were swollen from a lack of sleep.

  “This isn’t what it looks like,” Edmund stammered out.

  The woman behind him was, of course, Amber. This being her room and everything. “What’s all the noise? Oh, Bethany. Um, this isn’t what it looks like.”

  Arrago snickered behind her. Bethany glanced over her shoulder just enough to give him a hard look, one she hoped would make him choke for a few seconds. Sadly, she lacked that particular ability.

  She turned back to the nightwear-clad couple and said, “It looks full well that Opal is probably teething again or throwing up or something, since Edmund seems to be the only person alive that can make that little girl sleep.” She rolled her eyes at the pair, though their interruption had quelled some of her initial fury. “Letter from Jovan just arrived. He’s found Erem.”

  “Blessings,” Amber said. She pushed the door open to step fully into the hallway. “He’s alive? Has Jovan seen him?”

  “I have all the details here, but...Jovan needs our help.”

  “Of course,” Amber said. She turned to Edmund and gave him a serious look. “We’ll help, right?”

  “I’ll do what I can,” Edmund said. He gave Amber a tight smile, which faded when he met Bethany’s eyes.

  Bethany managed to keep her gaze on Edmund’s good eye, and not to the scarred mess where his other eye used to be. Nor did she look downward at the stump on his right forearm. She would not want him to look at her with judging pity if their roles had been reversed. “I don’t know what the plan is yet, but I’m going to need everyone’s help. In their own way.”

  “I can help,” Edmund said. There was an edge to his words when he said, “In my own way.”

  Arrago stepped between them. He let out a dramatic sigh. He motioned down the corridor. “Bethany, that’s all you needed to say.”

  Farther along the corridor stood the large, carved wooden doors, stained nearly black from both oils and age, that separated the royal suite from the rest of the palace bedchambers. At the foot of the door stood three sleepy servants, and a dog who was still asleep. One of the servants bowed and approached them.

  “Majesty?” the footman said while bowing.

  “Please wake Lord Stanley. Get Miss Lendra. You know what? Wake everyone. Go.”

  “Yes, Majesty,” came the automatic, if weary, reply from the male servant. He roused the dog, who let out a bark, followed by a massive yawn.

  “I could’ve done that,” Bethany muttered darkly.

  As the servants pushed open the doors to rush in different directions around the palace gathering the monarchy’s inner circle of advisors, Bethany asked no one in particular, “Why are there people sleeping in the hallway? Don’t they have rooms? Are they always there? Why is there a dog?”

  Arrago chuckled. “Love, you’ve been back a couple of weeks now and this is the first you’ve noticed them? Didn’t you notice the servants in Castle Gree?”

  She eyed the floor where the men had been sleeping, all of their blankets whisked away. “I thought that was just because of the war. This is normal?”

  “They’re there for security,” Arrago said. He sighed, noticing his housecoat was on inside out, and pulled it off.

  “We live in a palace. Apexia’s mercy, Arrago. Can you hurry up with that coat already? Do you need me to dress you?”

  “Your legs are longer than mine,” Arrago whined at her as she roughly shoved the housecoat back on him.

  “Stop whining.”

  “I’m not whining,” he whined again, only more purposefully this time. He glanced at his rumpled best friend. “What’s wrong with Opal?”

  Edmund accepted the slippers offered to him by Amber’s maid and dropped them to the floor. The maid hurried back into the room at the sound of the wail. Edmund let out a long, weary sigh. “Opal and Henry both caught a horrible cold. Opal’s nurse hasn’t slept in two days, and Amber’s tired. So I came to help. I’m Dada, after all.”

  “You’re not her father,” Bethany said, though she didn’t mean it unkindly. Or, more accurately, she tried not to mean is unkindly.

  Edmund shrugged. “You try explaining that to her.”

  She frowned as Arrago and Edmund chatted about Amber’s little girl, Opal. She didn’t like how Edmund was replacing Allric. She knew in her head that Edmund wasn’t doing that, and she knew that Allric was dead and not coming back. She knew Allric would say his little girl deserved a father. He’d s
ay for all of his faults, Edmund was a good man in his heart. Plus, politically, he was the king’s best friend and advisor. It would mean a good place in society for the little girl, which she’d need as an Elorian: a half-elven child. And if Edmund didn’t mind that she might not grow up until he was an old, old man, who was she to criticize letting a little girl have a father? Then Allric would tell her he was happy for Amber and relieved his little girl was loved and safe. And that she needed to stop.

  And, yet, she criticized in her heart. It stung her every time little Opal called Edmund dada for it should be Allric. Her old friend and mentor, who’d fallen in love with a young, Rygent woman, and had a baby. Who’d given his life defending his principles. Who would have been able to help Erem, if he hasn’t died.

  Damn the war. Damn the elves. Damn them all into darkness and nothingness.

  “They found Erem?” shrieked a high pitched, young voice. Footsteps thudded against the wooden floorboards.

  Blond hair tied tightly with fabric knots bounced into view. Lendra wore more satin and lace to bed than Bethany wore in a lifetime, and she was well over a century old. Her slippers were nicer than any pair of shoes Bethany had ever owned. She was pretty sure her sister had been digging in the storage closets of the previous queens again.

  Bethany sighed. “Lendra.”

  “Is it true?” Lendra demanded. “You’ve found Erem?”

  ARRAGO LOVED HIS WIFE. He truly, truly did. He did not regret asking for her hand in unity. He did not regret their rash decision to just marry without any planning. It was just that he often felt the urge to whack her with a very large stick. He’d once hit her with a shovel. It was on purpose, but admittedly she was trying to kill him and his friends. It was moments like this that made him long for that shovel. Maybe he could knock the sense back into her thick skull. The thought made him chuckle. He’d really been spending too much time with her; even his thoughts were starting to sound like Bethany.