No — he was fighting for the Vallentis family.
Because there was Ashlyn, battling mere feet from him, her pale armor covered in mud and blood as she swung a sword in one hand and threw magic with the other, sending Gray Guards and anomalies flying, her loyal soldiers equally unflinching against their supernatural opponents.
“We need to get in there,” Jaren said urgently, his knuckles white on the iron. “We need to help them.”
It took everything in Kiva to say, “We can’t — we need to get inside the palace. Our priorities haven’t changed: the rings, Navok, Zuleeka.”
“If we take Navok down, his anomalies will have no reason to fight,” Naari said, watching the battle, her features grave. “Kiva’s right — we can’t lose time helping them. We need to head straight for the palace.”
Cresta waved to the mess of bodies and magic. “How do you plan to get through that?”
Jaren’s tension was palpable, but he tore his eyes from the fight. “We don’t go through it.” His gaze dropped to the ground. “We go under it.”
Understanding hit Kiva, and she breathed, “The tunnels.”
Only Cresta seemed confused, but she didn’t ask questions as they remounted and raced to the hidden entrance at the rear of the palace. They had to leave their horses there, with Kiva giving Zephyr a quick, grateful pat before lowering herself into the iron grate. The secret passage was pitch-black, just like the last time she’d traveled down it, but she swiftly called her magic to light their way.
None of them spoke as they ran along the narrow path and reached the fork Kiva had once taken to spy on the Royal Council. They didn’t venture that way, instead continuing upward, ascending the steep, rocky steps until they finally exited through the creaky door leading into the larger underground thoroughfare that passed beneath the river, connecting the two sides of the palace.
There they paused, breathing hard and looking at each other in question.
“Where to now?” Cresta demanded, peering left and right along the luminium-lit, pillared space.
“We need to find Mirryn,” Kiva panted. Jaren could fight well with his blades, but he could do so much more with his magic. Navok’s anomalies were acting out of desperation — they’d lived in peaceful villages for most of their lives, and regardless of whatever training they’d undergone after being conscripted, they weren’t equipped for battle, given what Kiva had seen aboveground. If they’d known how to use their powers effectively, they would have been slaughtering Ashlyn’s soldiers and Tor’s rebels with a wave of their hands. Instead, they’d been floundering, the damage real but trivial in comparison to what it could have been. Jaren, however, had spent his entire life training his magic in battle scenarios. Kiva had seen him down in these very tunnels, practicing against his family. If she could return his powers, then he could —
“But where is she?” Cresta asked through gritted teeth. “And don’t forget Navok. I need to —”
“This way,” Jaren interrupted, running forward again, heading west.
Kiva doubted he had a plan other than to get them aboveground, but she said nothing and just bounded after him, aware that Cresta’s patience was wearing thin. She wasn’t sure why the ex-quarrier was so on edge and could only assume it had something to do with their Zalindov days and the redhead’s overzealous thirst for violence. Cresta needed to be part of the battle, not watching from the sidelines. But Kiva knew they wouldn’t be remaining that way for long. Because as soon as Navok realized they were there . . . as soon as Zuleeka realized they were there . . . and specifically, that Kiva was there . . .
Cresta would have her chance to fight; Kiva was sure of it.
Sprinting to the end of the tunnel, the four of them ran up yet more stairs until they were finally aboveground again, in the shining white and gold entrance hall of the western palace. But before they could make it any further, the ornate front doors burst open, and Eidran and Captain Veris stumbled backwards through them, fighting off six gray-clad opponents, none of whom, thankfully, appeared to have any magic.
Jaren, Naari, and Cresta lunged forward, unsheathing their swords and jumping straight into the fray. Kiva barely had time to blink, let alone consider how she might help, before all six Gray Guards were on the ground. She didn’t look at them as she moved stiffly to join her friends, her healer’s compassion at war with her logic, even if she knew there was nothing she could do for them now.
Veris was panting fiercely, but he still managed to bob his chin in a short bow toward Jaren. “Your Highness, General Ashlyn said you were on your way.”
Eidran’s chest was heaving as he looked at Jaren and reported, “The anomalies’ training is limited, but their numbers are overwhelming. And they came with an entire legion of Gray Guards. We won’t be able to hold them off for much long —”
That was all he managed before more gray-leathered warriors flooded through the doors, weapons raised, the battle outside now feeding into the palace.
Jaren shoved Kiva back just as two men roared and charged toward him. He dispatched them with ease, before taking on two more, all while Naari and Cresta fought fearlessly beside Veris and Eidran. But no matter how many Gray Guards they brought down, still more appeared through the doors.
“Where’s Navok?” Cresta shouted to the captain, barely audible over the sounds of crashing steel and pained groans.
Veris didn’t question who she was, only yelled back, “Last I heard he was locking Serafine in the library, but that was a while ago — he could be anywhere now!”
Cresta grunted as she kicked a man in the chest, sending him flying. Before anyone could stop her, she bolted out of the entrance hall — not through the doors to the battle on the grounds, but deeper into the palace.
“Cresta!” Kiva screamed after her, incredulous. Did she really expect to find Navok in the multi-floored labyrinth of the palace? There were two sides, for everworld’s sake. As Veris had said, the Mirraven king could be anywhere. And even if Cresta did find him, what did she intend to do? He would almost certainly be surrounded by anomalies — she wouldn’t even get close to attacking him.
But as much as Kiva feared for her foolish, headstrong friend, she was now also concerned for the rest of them, since still more warriors were pouring through the doors, and this time there were magic wielders among them. Unable to just stand there and watch, she rushed forward, scanning the ground for a fallen weapon. But before she could make it two steps, the marble tiles cracked open under her feet and she had to scurry backwards again.
“Where’s my sister?” Jaren yelled to Eidran, hacking at the vines trying to creep up his legs.
“Queen’s chambers,” Eidran called back, flinging a dagger toward a fire elemental, his aim lethal. “She’s unguarded, but —”
He didn’t finish before he was thrown across the room by an air anomaly, who Naari immediately turned her attention to, cutting the woman down before she had another chance to use her magic.
Eidran shook himself off and leapt back into the fray, just as Jaren ran out of it, dashing over to Kiva and tugging her behind a pillar, momentarily hiding them from sight.
“We need to go,” he said, panting.