Kingdom Above the Cloud Page 3

  Now Leeto was twenty-five years old, and he knew he was ready for his own kingdom. All of Adia would be his. No, he would rename it. All of Leeto Valley would be his, and he would be King Leeto. His mind had been buzzing all morning with his plans for armories, towers, and fortresses. The land was so vast and untouched, and there were endless resources to manipulate. He couldn’t wait to begin. There would be armies and servants and beautiful, wealthy people. He would need to find a queen, but that would be no problem once he obtained all his power. Every woman would want to be his wife.

  His palace must be big enough for his entire family. That would mean room for his siblings, plus children. He and his queen would produce plenty of royal offspring. And he couldn’t forget large suites for his doting parents, grandparents, and aunts and uncles. And of course, the guest rooms, ballrooms, banquet halls, and gardens. He wouldn’t be outdone by the palace on the mountain.

  As he daydreamed of his castle’s floor plan, he sat perched in the canopy of the giant trees doing his best to stay hidden from the foolish Adians. He had a strategy, and everything was falling perfectly into place. He just had to be sure he was not seen, especially by the other weapons.

  The only hiccup so far had been his run in with Silas, the arrogant Adian with the keen senses. Leeto thought he had been silent as he stalked Silas and Tovi in the woods, but somehow Silas knew he was there.

  “Come here, Leeto,” Silas had called as soon as the girl was out of earshot.

  How did Silas know his name? Leeto was more annoyed than anything, and he slunk further into the shadows.

  “There is no sense hiding from me,” Silas continued. “I can help you.”

  Help me? Leeto laughed at the idea. He wouldn’t need someone like Silas when King Damien’s armies invaded. He wouldn’t need someone like Silas ever.

  A twig cracked somewhere below him, snapping him back to reality and out of his memories of his earlier encounter with Silas. Leeto moved his eyes without disturbing any other muscles, not wanting unnecessary movements to give away his presence. His mouth curved up and his eyes narrowed when Calix came into view. Another Master. His competition. The key to his strategy.

  Calix—tall and handsome with very pale skin and black hair—crept along a branch several feet below. He approached the side of a cottage built in the center of a large willow tree and flattened himself against the wall. Leeto watched as Calix silently inched closer to the front porch where an old woman sat in a rocking chair next to the very same girl Leeto always saw with Silas—Tovi Tivka.

  This troubled Leeto, whose sneering smile vanished. Six months ago, King Damien challenged the weapons to mark an Adian and bring the victim to the mountain. Leeto, a masterful schemer, found abundant joy in this task. He immediately came up with a plan: shadow the other weapons as they made their targets vulnerable, and then swoop in to take advantage of his competitors’ hard work and the Adians’ weaknesses. It would be efficient and painless, at least for him.

  One of the other weapons—huge and powerful Eryx—set his sights on Tovi’s brother as soon as the challenge was given. Eryx followed Tali at a distance, never revealing himself, never speaking. It was strange. Then, a few days into the challenge, Tali disappeared. No one had seen him since, but that didn’t stop Eryx from hanging around the sister. He seemed to have switched his attention to Tovi, but still he did not speak. How did he expect to win if he never spoke to his Adian target?

  With no progress between Eryx and Tovi, Leeto had turned his focus to the other weapons. Plenty of Adians were being groomed in secret, but Leeto hadn’t felt the time was right quite yet.

  Now, high in the trees, Leeto peered at Calix. Was Calix playing the same game? Had he been watching Eryx stalk Tovi? Or, was he completely unaware that this girl was already a target? Had Leeto missed something important?

  There was an itch across his back, and he concentrated on not moving a muscle, despite his longing to scratch. He wasn’t used to clothing covering his marks. On the mountain, he wore a shirt with a hole in the back. Here in Adia, it seemed best to dress like the locals. The soft fabric felt funny as it covered the seven symbols and the heart etched on his skin. These designs stood for lessons he had learned on the mountain. Power. Perfection. Adoration. Prosperity. Pleasure. Wisdom. Control.

  Each of the seven weapons was particularly trained and talented in one area, and each had earned the title of Master. Leeto became a Master of Control when he was only fifteen years old, skipping over the traditional beginners’ assignments. As with any Master, Leeto was entrusted with specialized tasks from King Damien, most of which centered around training others in the art of skillful manipulation. If only he could teach one of these Adians about the beauty of control . . .

  Tovi and the old woman rose from their seats and went inside the house. Calix, still unaware of Leeto’s watchful eyes and ears, disappeared around the other side of the tree. Alone again, Leeto finally gave in and mercifully attacked the skin of his back with his fingernails. He closed his eyes in sweet relief, but only for a moment.

  He climbed toward the other side of the village and mulled over all that he had seen. So intent on his plans and schemes, he hardly paid attention to his surroundings.

  If he had more presence of mind, he wouldn’t have been so surprised to find himself jerked from his feet and pinned to a tree trunk, one enormous hand grasping his throat and cutting off his air supply.

  “Leave her alone. She’s mine,” growled Eryx, his glowering brown eyes with one little purple star only inches away. His face and shaved head were covered in old scars, and one of them just below his eye had reopened in his fury. Something black and tar-like slowly seeped out.

  Leeto spluttered and gasped.

  “Do you hear me? Leave her alone,” Eryx demanded, releasing his grip and letting his prisoner fall to his feet, narrowly escaping a long plunge to the earth far below.

  Leeto rubbed his neck and took deep gulps of air. “Yes, yes. I hear you. No need to get violent, Eryx. You know I’m not the only one with my eyes on her, don’t you?”

  “I’m aware.”

  “Are you going to try to murder Calix, too?” Leeto asked snidely.

  Eryx grabbed the front of Leeto’s tunic and lifted him to eye level. “What makes you think I would hesitate from destroying your family? Leave Tovi alone, or they will be the ones I punish. Understand?”

  A cold chill ran through Leeto. “I understand,” he gasped, having trouble breathing with his shirt pulled tightly against his throat.

  Eryx swung him over open space and let him dangle there. Leeto clung to Eryx’s wrists, his fingers sinking into the taut flesh of the larger man’s arms, desperate to keep hold. Panic took over as he writhed and spasmed, looking for some sort of escape. He panted, struggling to take in air.

  “How do you think your mother would feel if I let go right now?” Eryx asked menacingly.

  Suddenly Leeto was free falling. Eryx had let go, and Leeto’s mind went terribly blank.

  Before he could regain himself, he tumbled onto a thatched roof just a few feet below. Leeto looked up into the hateful eyes of Eryx who still stood on the branch above. Without a word, the large man turned and stomped further into the forest.

  Of all the things he despised, a spiral out of control was what Leeto hated the most. This interaction was not in his plan. How had everything gone so wrong in so little time? If it weren’t for this roof, he’d be dead. Or had Eryx dropped him here on purpose? Was Eryx weakening?

  He had so many more questions now than he had just that morning. The biggest question of all: What did he need to do to regain the upper hand?

  CHAPTER 5

  Tovi sat on her puffy little bed next to her window, holding two soft blankets in her hands. She and Tali were wrapped in them as newborns when they were delivered to the Tivkas in the middle of the night, nameless and crying. She often returned to them when she was looking for comfort.

  She closed her eyes
and tried to remember all that Tali had been up to right before he disappeared. He had suddenly been spending a lot of time without her. She thought he was with Silas, but was she wrong? Had he discovered Adwin in those hours away?

  Tali. Even his name made her heart ache. There was so much about Tali that Tovi envied, but not so much that she despised him. She wished she could be more like him—somehow adventurous and grounded at the same time. He could be bold and tender, outlandish and careful, reckless and wise. She missed him more than she could bear.

  Ganya and Avi began taking the children out into the wilderness as soon as they could walk and fend for themselves a bit. They would explore caves and marshes and dells, often playing games invented by Avi to keep them entertained. Who could pick the largest flower? Who could spot the strangest bird? Who could climb the highest in the tree? Who could swim the furthest in one breath? As the sun sank and the moon rose, they would lie on their backs and listen to Ganya tell the stories of the stars. They would sleep in one big bundle on the ground, warmed by a colorful fire.

  As they grew older, Tovi and Tali went on these adventures without Avi and Ganya. They were often accompanied by Silas, but sometimes they wanted to go just the two of them. They were both lean and strong and had identical coloring, but there were some differences. Tali’s dark blue hair was short and thick with several cowlicks sending patches in odd directions, and Tovi’s was long and wavy. While Tovi was petite, Tali had grown very tall, and his features were far softer, possibly because he scowled so much less than his sister. Many of the girls in the village blushed or giggled when Tali was around, but he took little notice. With so much adventure on his mind, there was no room for romance.

  Tovi and Tali were convinced that there were more villages out there, that it wasn’t just little Adia and the big city on Mount Damien. They would spend several days traveling in different directions, seeking any sign of habitation, convinced that Adwin and their parents were out there somewhere. Once, when circling Mount Damien so they could explore the foothills to the north, they startled a man with green hair holding a bow and arrow. They found themselves staring past the black arrowhead that was just inches from their noses, into the eyes of the strong hunter.

  A few seconds passed, and the stranger did something unexpected. He lowered the bow, propped it against a tree, and removed one of his tattered gray gloves. He opened his palm, holding it in the air and showing Tali and Tovi the brown heart outline, just like those marking the Adians’ hands. Without a word, Tali raised his own hand, showing the matching heart. Just then another hunter crashed through the trees, and the mysterious man quickly re-gloved his hand and signaled that the twins should hide.

  They left, but Tovi always regretted not staying and learning more about this strange sequence of events. They returned to that spot several times, but they never saw the green-haired man again.

  Growing up, Tovi and Tali shared a bedroom. Once they were both in bed and the lanterns blown out, Tali always wanted to talk deep into the night. He would whisper across the room, prodding her for her feelings and thoughts. Sometimes the talks were deep and meaningful. More often, there were light-hearted arguments and Tovi’s constant commands, “Be quiet!” “Let me sleep!” “Leave me alone!”

  “But, Tovi, did you see that hill beyond the one that we’ve explored before? How do you think Adwin’s magic works? What do you think he looks like? Where should we go tomorrow?”

  She would throw a pillow at him, but it rarely stopped the barrage of questions or his attempts to get her to communicate. While she pretended to be annoyed, she adored her brother too much to really be mad.

  Tovi folded the baby blankets and put them back in the trunk at the foot of her bed, closing the lid and securing the latch. She sat on her puffy mattress, leaning on her wooden windowsill and looking out into the forest.

  Tali. She missed him so much that it physically hurt. Where had he gone? What happened to him? Was he ever coming home? Was he even alive? She felt so off-kilter without him. He had been the light that balanced her dark. What was she going to do?

  “Hey, Tovi! What are you doing?” came a voice from above her.

  Tovi looked up through the window toward Silas’ cottage and saw his downturned face.

  “Want to head down to the river? I heard a lot of noise coming from there a little bit ago.”

  Tovi hesitated. She had little interest in the fun and games of her fellow Adians, but Silas was already swinging on a vine and landing on the porch.

  “Seriously, come on,” he prodded.

  Reluctantly, Tovi left the safety of her little house and joined him. It took only five minutes for the water to come into view, and it appeared that all the young people of Adia had come out to enjoy the sunshine and warmth. There was much shrieking, laughing, and whooshing as water sprayed everywhere.

  One by one, more Adians arrived as if the joy of the morning had called them closer. Some dove in from overhanging branches or leapt from boulders. Some ran straight in toward the center of the commotion. There was dancing, splashing, and water moving in every direction. Total, complete, wonderful chaos.

  “Silas! Join us!” someone called from the center of the pandemonium. Silas swung into a nearby tree, ran along the lowest branch, and flung himself into the air, curling into a tight cannonball. He landed in the middle of the river, a huge wave engulfing his friends.

  Tovi watched. She had known them her whole life, but she never felt as if she was one of them. Silas belonged. Tali belonged. But she did not. They would never understand the fears and painful questions that lurked in her heart and that Tali had somehow escaped.

  Without a goodbye to Silas, Tovi returned home. She went back to her room and opened her trunk with the intention of holding the blankets a little longer. They were the only link she had to her family. She liked to imagine a lovely mother wrapping her babies in the blankets, gently and sweetly. Maybe their father, strong but tender, held one baby in each arm and kissed their foreheads. Maybe they sang a lullaby over them before they were taken away.

  Goosebumps rose along her arms and neck. There was only one blanket in the trunk.

  “Ganya, have you been in my room?” she yelled.

  The older woman came to the door, wiping a bowl with a colorful towel. “No, dear. What’s wrong?”

  Tovi stayed silent as she picked up the remaining blanket. She knew without a doubt that she had left the other folded inside, too.

  CHAPTER 6

  Calix watched the young Adians splash in the river below. There was something feline about his striking features, long and muscular body, and the way he moved, like a panther stalking his prey in the treetops. His jet-black hair was just long enough to ripple slightly in the breeze, and his black eyes were framed with almost-feminine, thick lashes.

  “There is no way those blankets are from this valley,” Calix said to himself, stuffing the stolen one into the satchel slung around his chest. He had been watching her stroke them repeatedly throughout the last few weeks, and finally he had the chance to snoop inside that trunk. It was clear the blankets were far too elegant for the looms and thick home-made yarns of Adia. They were velvety and rich, much more like something you would find in the wealthy areas of the mountain. How did they end up here in Adia? He would take the blanket back to the mountain and see if he could investigate its origin.

  He eyed the exuberance of the Adians playing in the water. There was very little he found as distasteful as wasting time. Didn’t they know they could be using these hours for something greater? Something worthwhile? Wealth and success and stability?

  Unlike many of the young Masters on Mount Damien, Calix had not been born into prosperity. His father was a low-ranking soldier, and his mother worked as a nanny in the palace. When his father was killed in an accident during practice drills, his mother did not know what to do. She could no longer afford to pay someone to watch young Calix and his infant sister BiBi while she worked, yet she had to
work in order for them to eat.

  At the time, King Damien’s son, Ajax, was married to Princess Thomae. Despite her horrid husband, Thomae was kind and understanding. When Calix’s mother begged Princess Thomae to allow her children to come with her to work, Thomae was delighted. The nanny’s children were nearly the same age as the royal children. She prepared an apartment for Calix’s small family, and they moved to the palace. It was more than Calix’s mother could have ever dreamed.

  Calix and his sister grew up in the palace learning to love elegant things. Their mother constantly pounded them with the belief that it all came from King Damien, and they owed everything to the monarch. They would be nothing and have nothing without him and his kind daughter-in-law who gave them work, money, a place to live, clothing, food, and much more.

  When Calix was summoned to an audience with the king at ten years old, he visibly trembled.

  “No need to be afraid, my boy,” the king said kindly, a pleased smile on his face.

  “Oh, n-no, Your Majesty,” Calix said with reverence. “I am not afraid. I . . . I . . . I just hope I can please you.”

  Clearly delighted, King Damien watched him. His eyes traveled to Calix’s hair and eyes—hair and eyes of the deepest black that matched the king’s. King Damien asked to see his hand, and he nodded in acknowledgement when he saw that there was no heart outline hidden beneath the glove.

  “What is it you would like to do with your future?” he asked.

  “Anything that would make you happy, Your Majesty. Anything to repay you.”

  Damien nodded. “That is wise of you, my boy. Tell me about yourself. What are you best at?”

  “Me, Your Majesty?”

  “Yes, you. What are your skills? Your talents?”

  Calix didn’t know how to answer.

  Damien seemed interested in Calix’s hesitance. “Young man, you need confidence. You are handsome and have the potential to be very charming. If you just learned a little more about yourself and all you have to offer, I think you will make a fine Master of Adoration someday.”