Hexes of the Fall (The Hex King Book 1), page 1
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Map of Thaedra
Chapter One - Galan at Sunset
Chapter Two - Anything Can Fall
Chapter Three - Sol and Ith
Chapter Four - Disaster
Chapter Five - Cramming
Chapter Six - A Regal Chandelier
Chapter Seven - A Dull Blade
Chapter Eight - Humility
Chapter Nine - No Worthier Purpose
Chapter Ten - Twisted Tales
Chapter Eleven - The Chosen One
Chapter Twelve - A Rogue Wave
Chapter Thirteen - Parties Breed Scandal
Chapter Fourteen - A Perfect Distraction
Chapter Fifteen - Snooping Around
Chapter Sixteen - Excellent Match
Chapter Seventeen - Haunted
Chapter Eighteen - A Conditional Promise
Chapter Nineteen - Eavesdropper
Chapter Twenty - Exerting Discretion
Chapter Twenty-One - Restless
Chapter Twenty-Two - The Worst Time for a Power Struggle
Chapter Twenty-Three - It Will Happen
Chapter Twenty-Four - Garden of Stone
Chapter Twenty-Five - A Prophecy
Chapter Twenty-Six - It’s Quiet
Chapter Twenty-Seven - Visions
Chapter Twenty-Eight - Oath
Chapter Twenty-Nine - It's Obvious, Isn't It?
Chapter Thirty - Middle Gate
Thank You
Copyright © 2023 by L Marton
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
First edition
Cover design by James, GoOnWrite.com
Map design by K Marton
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
CHAPTER ONE
Galan at Sunset
GENRY LEANED OUT the castle window and stared down in dismay, his heart lurching with vertigo. A fall from this height would kill anyone, he thought. Far below, the city’s peaked towers and gridded streets stretched out for miles in all directions, and a crisp wind tugged at his hair. It was already beginning to smell like fall.
Below the open window, a section of the roof fell away on either side of a sharp ridge. Whereas most people would not have looked twice at the spot, Genry’s sister had seen a narrow path between one turret and the next.
“You want to walk across that?” he asked.
“Yep,” Ellex replied. “Come on, it’s not as steep as it looks.” Still wearing her fancy dress from the latest court function, she pushed him out of the way and hooked one leg over the windowsill, then the other, before dropping down onto the roof.
Peering down doubtfully, he watched as she balanced on the ridge, her arms spread wide. Behind her, the sky was a brilliant shade of fuchsia, casting everything in soft buttery light. The stone castle, often colorless and austere, seemed to drink in the sunset and glow with contentment, its dusty roof tiles now crimson and nearly purring with latent energy.
“Are you sure about this?” Genry asked as Ellex began toeing her way along the ridge. Glancing back, she had to pinwheel her arms for a moment to keep balance, sending his heart into a skittering mess.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” she teased.
“No,” Genry said quickly, swinging a leg over the windowsill and lowering himself onto the roof. He trusted his own balance; it was hers that worried him.
Though they were twins, they couldn’t have had more different upbringings. While Genry had been drilling forms, running laps around the castle, and training with the knights, Ellex had been stuck in the castle, learning the ways of the court. She was certainly a force to be reckoned with within the tea parlors and the council chambers of Galan’s elite, but he doubted whether any of her political savviness would help her much if she misplaced a foot and tumbled off the roof.
He landed and, placing one nimble foot over the other, caught up to Ellex just as she reached the next turret.
“Give me your arm,” she commanded, seizing it as she turned to lower herself onto a different section of the roof. This plane was not as steep, and so she was able to stand on it despite her traction-less sandals and begin shuffling downhill with one hand braced against a low ledge.
Genry hopped down beside her and followed quickly, making sure he was close enough to grab her should her feet slide out.
Across from them was Orran’s Wing, an older section of the castle with several rows of windows and a tower wrapped in ivy. His chambers were somewhere in that wing, but he was too anxious to bother trying to spot his windows.
“Someone could see us,” he hissed. All it would take would be one equinox guest pulling back their curtains to admire the sunset and he would be in a heap of trouble. Ellex, too, but not nearly as much. Despite it being her idea, Genry had no illusions as to which of them would face the bulk of their grandmother’s scorn if they got caught. He was already considered a person of dubious standing among the nobles, whereas Ellex was the favorite—the dutiful, conscientious one. At least, that was her reputation. It seemed, at times, that Genry was the only one who knew her devious side.
“We’re almost there,” she assured him.
They continued shuffling down the roof until they came to a flat section and could duck around the side of the shelf and hide from view of Orran’s Wing.
Despite knowing the castle inside and out, Genry was disoriented and couldn’t quite tell where they were or what room, hall, or attic he might see if he punched a hole through the roof and looked inside.
“This way,” Ellex said, taking his hand. They ran alongside a steep drop that was three or four stories high. Below, he could see the terraced gardens descending in tiers down the hill, a view he dared not indulge in for too long and risk losing his footing on the bumpy roof tiles.
Ellex led him in a zigzag around the roof, navigating the confusing planes and angles with a degree of surety that indicated a worrying level of familiarity.
“How long have you known about this place?” Genry panted.
She glanced back in amusement. “The roof? I suppose I’ve known about it for as long as I’ve known about ceilings.”
“But, how long have you known how to get up here?” he persisted.
Ellex shrugged. “Not long. A couple of weeks, probably. I spotted the window from below and figured it would be easy to jump down to the roof from there, and then I just counted out the windows so I’d be able to find it.”
Genry chuckled but refrained from asking the obvious question of, “But why?” He knew Ellex didn’t need a reason. She was prone to flights of fancy and sudden, reckless impulses that would’ve shocked the coterie of well-bred noblewomen with whom she gossiped.
The two of them, however, could be themselves around each other. Ellex could be more daring, and Genry could be the moderating voice of reason, which was a role he hardly ever played with anyone else.
They clambered up and down various ledges, shuffled beneath the windows of a turret, skittered down steep planes of varying angles, and eventually arrived at the semi-flat platform that extended halfway across the topmost layer of the terraced gardens. Wisteria vines had outgrown their lattices to festoon the wall to their left, completely covering the windows that might have allowed someone to look out and see them. The flowers were well past the full flush of summer but remained a dry, dusky purple now that the first chills of fall were beginning to whisper through the city.
Genry leaned over the edge, risking a glance into the garden below, and spotted a young couple meandering among the rose bushes and a trio of older noblewomen chatting on a stone bench. He quickly withdrew, not wanting to be seen, and backed away from the edge, rejoining Ellex at the wisteria-lined wall.
With a contented sigh, she plopped down and leaned back, closing her eyes briefly, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Her long, honey-colored curls spilled over her shoulders, and she had the same amber eyes as their father and their other siblings. People were always remarking on how they didn’t look much alike for twins, as Genry was dark-haired and gray-eyed. The most significant difference of all, though, was that Ellex had a thin, red tattoo banded across her forehead—the mark of a magical Oath that bound her to her duties.
He dropped down beside her, letting his shoulder blades rest against the cold, rough castle wall, and let out a sigh of his own. The fragrance of old flowers was tainted by the faint, musty smell of decay. It felt like summer had only just started a few weeks ago and shouldn’t be ending already, and yet it was evident that fall was quickly approaching.
Galan’s citadel was situated high atop a hill, which gave it a magnificent view of the metropolis sprawled at its base. The sun was a bright red disk, hazy from the smoke that rose from the chimneys, and the roofs, mostly red and orange terracotta, glowed like the embers of a dying fire. Galan was massive. There were more streets than could reasonably be walked in a lifetime, more mina
Genry rarely left Galan and had no particular desire to do so more often. He loved his city. He loved it in every season, in both the blazing heat of summer and the thick snow of winter, and all the variations in-between. He loved the orderly flagstone streets all lit with flickering hex lamps, the bronze spires, and the castle itself sitting high at its heart. He loved the colorful townsfolk, the noisy merchants, the pretentious nobles with their silly sensibilities and, most of all, he loved the brave knights with their horned helmets and wonderful stories. If he never traveled or went anywhere else in the world, Genry thought he could die happy knowing he had already seen the best of it.
“It’s beautiful,” Genry murmured, feeling that the word was obscenely inadequate.
“Yeah, it’s all right,” Ellex said with a shrug, cracking her eyes open. “I thought you’d like this view. Personally, I just like coming here for the peace and quiet. It’s somewhere to get away from all the eyes and ears of the court.”
Genry shot her a look, not understanding how she could be so unimpressed. Their current location, only about one story above the first tier of the garden, was indeed well shielded, but he couldn’t understand how anyone could see Galan at sunset and not be mesmerized by its majesty.
Perhaps, he thought, peace and quiet may hold greater value to someone as popular as my sister. She was constantly the object of scrutiny at court, whereas he had always found it much easier to go unnoticed. Plus, peace and quiet were quickly becoming rare commodities now that the fall equinox was approaching. It was still a few weeks away, but the influx of guests was starting early this year on account of it being the big Millennial Anniversary of the Age of Peace. The castle was bulging with ministers, nobles, council members, fabulously wealthy merchants from Piora, and the Prelacy’s most eminent priests and priestesses. More were arriving every day, filling the halls with endless clamor and bustling activity.
He focused on Riving Inlet where the waters were preceding the sky in the process of darkening to violet.
“Is that our father’s ship?” he asked, finally registering the giant galleon that was docked in the harbor. The sails were rolled, and the three masts looked skeletal without them.
Their father had arrived a couple of days ago with an entire boatload of delegates from the Tezerine Isles, and though Genry had greeted his father and all the guests whom he’d brought with him, he hadn’t yet laid eyes on the ship that had brought them to Galan.
Ellex followed his gaze. “Yep, that’s the one,” she replied then gave a dreamy sigh. “I wish I could go with him the next time he goes back there. Can you imagine it? Sand the color of brass, the shores gleaming with washed-up treasures from faraway lands. Seaside villages with statues of people we’ve never heard of, and mountains that growl and breathe smoke … it hardly sounds real.”
Genry gave her a wary look. Even when they were kids, Ellex had always had romantic ideas about traveling to faraway places. They were seventeen now, but those dreams were clearly still as potent as ever.
“Yeah … well, it’s also not all that civilized,” he pointed out. “They’ve got pirates and criminals—exiles from the continent and those looking to escape the law. It’s not safe.”
“It’s safe on the main islands,” Ellex argued, shooting him an annoyed glance. “That’s what Talenne said, anyway.”
“Talenne?”
Ellex rolled her eyes. “Yeah, plucky lass from Île-Yortaire who came with the delegates. Lady Tagan designated me to be her guide while she’s here, but she doesn’t know anything about Thaedra, so I have to explain everything.”
Genry stifled a smile as he imagined his impatient sister forced to attend to a clueless foreigner. She could run circles around just about anyone at Galan, and he suspected that someone who wasn’t even familiar with their customs would quickly exasperate her.
“She has about a thousand questions about everything,” Ellex went on in a tone of annoyance, “and meanwhile, she hardly ever answers any of my questions about the Isles. It’s maddening.”
“She sounds like you,” Genry teased. “Too curious for her own good. I’m surprised you don’t get along better.”
Ellex rolled her eyes but didn’t reply.
Genry looked back over the city. They sat in companionable silence for a while, simply listening to the distant din of Galan and watching the sun slip deeper and deeper into the hazy horizon. Genry couldn’t have said at what point it actually set, though the sky went through a spectrum of colors before finally easing into a soft blue. It was the phase of twilight when there were no shadows, but the stars had not yet emerged.
Presently, they heard a distant shout. “Hello?”
Genry stiffened, but he doubted the person was addressing them. They were well hidden up on the roof, and it was too dark for someone to spot them now. He had heard the vague noises of people moving about the gardens below, but as the sky had grown darker, those sounds had gradually faded. He’d assumed everyone had gone inside.
“Hello? Anyone?”
Apparently, there was at least one person who had failed to follow the rest back into the castle.
Genry exchanged a glance with Ellex and saw his own curiosity reflected sharply in her eyes. As twins, they often didn’t need to speak to know what the other was thinking. They just knew. Together, they rose and crept toward the edge of the roof before peering down into the garden.
It was dark, but a string of hex lamps had illuminated automatically, casting a warm, orange light over the tidy arrangement of flowers. At first glance, the garden appeared empty, but then a rustling sound drew his eye to a lone figure struggling amidst a dense tangle of roses just beneath an ornamental maple.
“Oh, sweet Solace,” Ellex whispered, caught somewhere between amusement and irritation. “I think that’s Talenne.”
They both withdrew, sitting back on their heels.
“What’s she doing out here alone?” Genry wondered aloud. “And how’d she get stuck in those bushes?”
“I don’t know,” Ellex said, giving a defensive shrug. “I may have given her the slip just before meeting up with you.”
“But you’re supposed to be her guide,” Genry reminded her. “Shouldn’t you do something?” He was tempted to say that she probably shouldn’t have abandoned Talenne in the first place but decided that probably wouldn’t be helpful.
“Yes,” Ellex admitted with a slight groan. “Solace, I had thought this might be the one place in all of Galan where my duties wouldn’t be able to find me. But apparently there’s no escaping them.”
The playfulness evaporated from her face as she turned toward the roof again, and Genry felt a wave of regret wash over him. The mischievous version of his sister was the one he loved best, and he hated to see how her duties drained her spirit.
The wisteria-veined wall caught his eye as she moved to leave.
“Wait,” he said. “I think I can climb down.”
Ellex glanced back at him, her gaze skeptical.
“I’ll rescue your wayward charge,” he said. “And then I’ll distract her so you can be free for a while. You stay here or go explore another part of the roof—whatever you like. Just don’t let anyone see you.”
Her gaze brightened with hope. “Oh! You’re sure you can do that?” she asked, turning to examine the wall that extended up and past their little platform.
“One way to find out,” Genry said with a grin.
He strode toward the wall, careful to watch his step now that it was darker, and tugged on one of the vines. It was thin and came away from the wall with little pressure, but he could see a thicker vine several feet off the platform.
