Heart's Revenge [On Hold]

Ch. 15: What an Ace Is

Naqam stood on top of the wall, the tips of his fingers raw and aching from the miniscule cracks he'd shoved them into making his way up. He took a moment to appreciate the view, balanced on the foot-wide top of the wall.

He hadn't realized until about halfway up that the wall was cleverly tapered. Wide at the bottom to support its height, but thinner toward the top, making it difficult not to slide and hard to ascend even if he'd had a ladder to help his climb.

The trees swayed in that ever-present sea breeze, looking like an emerald ocean itself.

Looking down and to his left, he found the crystal wine glass and knelt to pick it up, twirling the delicate stem between his fingers. At least the slight curve of the wall would assist him on his way back down. He peered over the edge and nodded his head.

He could make that.

Adira, Hatter and the King were all looking up at him, appearing no bigger than dolls. He held the glass cradled gently to his chest and sat on top of the wall, his boots dangling over empty space. 

He might have thought twice about a fifty-foot drop if the wall hadn't been curved like it was. The friction would slow him down just enough that he would be able to control his descent. He thought he heard a small gasp from Adira when he scooted forward, but then he was falling.

The wall was slick under the cloth of his pants and he put out one hand to slow himself, skin dragging against the smooth stone. It burned his hand, but then he was vaulting out into open space with nothing to stop him.

He loosened his grip on the glass slightly so it wouldn't break, then hit the ground.

Practically before his feet touched the sand below, he was already tilting forward. There was a jarring, uncomfortable impact, and then he was rolling across the ground. The world flipped around him three times before he came to a stop in a kneeling position. Even letting himself roll like he had, the final landing was hard. It sent his knee into his chest, making his heart stutter.

He let out a slow breath, then looked up to find he had come to a halt at the feet of the King.

Both Hatter and Adira looked a little pale, but the King's expression remained flinty and unimpressed. Naqam frowned lightly and presented the goblet to Killian, who just glanced at it with disdain.

Moving gingerly, he stood up, then handed the glass to Adira instead.

"Not even a scratch," she said. Then she glanced at him. "Don't mistake that for any kind of praise, Ace."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Lady."

"I'm General out here," she corrected, waiting until he nodded his understanding before she pointed to the next challenge. "Let's see how you run."

Naqam walked with her over to a table with a map on it. She traced his route on the paper, then said, "It's a little less than five miles. Try to be back in twenty minutes. Oh, and don't hurt anyone."

His eyes widened, but he didn't balk. He just turned and ran, letting his body take over, dulling his mind as he sprinted from the castle. Years of his life had been spent like this: hard conditioning and harder training. The palms of his hands stung a little from where the stone of the wall had skinned them.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he would catch sight of a black guard. Obviously Adira--or perhaps the King--hadn't trusted that he would be able to stay on his chosen path. Naqam ignored them and the small protests his body was starting to stage.

But then, one became impossible to ignore when he exploded from the brush at the side of the trail, swinging an ax at Naqam's head. Adira's final instructions rang in his head, and he mitigated his response accordingly.