Free Bastial Steel by B. T. Narro Page A

they can do to contain me. Micah has learned to trust me, but he says the King probably never will, probably won’t ever want to be in the same room as me.”
    Rek let out a bitter laugh. “I didn’t think I would meet someone who was more scared of psychics than you.”
    “I tried to tell him there’s nothing to worry about, but he doesn’t want to listen to me.”
    “It’s fine. It might even be better if he’s afraid of me.” Rek adjusted a nearby painting of a female Elf with blonde hair. “I like this one the best. Her eyes don’t stare at me with the same judgment I feel from the other paintings.”
    Cleve didn’t feel nearly as safe knowing Rek was leaving the palace, but he wasn’t lying earlier—he did understand the need.
    “What do you hope to happen when you visit the Elves?” he asked.
    Rek turned to Cleve, tilting his head. “I want to learn everything I can about what happened between the Krepps and the Elves. I’m hoping I can convince them to come back and fight with us, but I know nothing of Elven culture. I’m nervous about what they’ll think of me…given I can’t even speak their language.”
    “Do you know if many of them are psychics?”
    “I don’t know that, and neither does anyone in Goldram, apparently.”
    A guard knocked. “Cleve Polken? We have a letter for you.”
    Cleve opened the door, and the guard handed him a sealed note. “It’s from Kasko Lage,” the guard said.
    Cleve opened it to find a folded piece of paper with some sort of red substance dripping from it. No words were written on it. “What is this?” Cleve wondered.
    Rek peered around Cleve. “It looks like blood.”
    Blood? Cleve maneuvered the letter to avoid the blood touching his skin.
    “That’s strange,” the guard commented, leaning in for a closer look.
    “What does it mean?” Rek asked.
    The guard shrugged. “I’ve never seen that before.”
    “I think it means I have a new friend,” Cleve muttered.

 
    Chapter 6
     
    The sun was nearly gone from the sky. The only reason Cleve noticed was because he was having trouble seeing the target that he’d been staring at for the last few hours.
    Guards had set him up in the training grounds with a bow. They stayed with Cleve to shoot some arrows, only to succumb to frustration and leave when they soon found themselves far less skilled than he was.
    One made Cleve promise him a duel the next day, to which Cleve gladly agreed. He’d been aching to use both a sword and bow, craving them like a fatigued body begs for sleep.
    “Did you hit the target?” Jessend surprised him by asking just after he shot. She had a hand cupped over her eyes. “I can’t even see it.”
    “Come closer and you can.” He waved her toward him.
    She closed the door to the palace, folding her arms with a slight shiver and walking to him. She leaned against him and squinted.
    “You did hit it. Is this how far you usually shoot from?”
    Cleve judged the distance to be around fifty yards. “Something like this, usually.”
    Jessend pushed him playfully. “You’re sweaty. You need to shower before you get in my bed.”
    Cleve had no reply. He must’ve made a face, for she showed him a disappointed look.
    “You don’t want to stay with me like you did last night?”
    “I’m very tired,” Cleve admitted. “But I want to hear what happened with Kasko. As long as we don’t stay up too late…”
    Jessend nodded. “So I assume you got his letter?”
    “Yes. Whose blood was that?”
    “His own. He made me watch him cut his hand. He thought it would scare me, but it didn’t. Kasko can cut himself to pieces in front of me and I would only smile. I pretend to show fear, only because I don’t know what he’ll do if I don’t.” She shivered.
    “How does your father not see that Kasko wears his sanity like a hat?”
    “Because he’s never taken it off in front of my father. And I’d say a wig would be closer to the truth—it’s more deceiving than a