Second Guard Read online

  Copyright © 2015 by J. D. Vaughn

  Cover illustration © 2015 by Kelley McMorris

  All rights reserved. Published by Disney • Hyperion, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney • Hyperion, 125 West End Avenue, New York, New York 10023.

  ISBN 978-1-4231-9037-0

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  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Realm of Tequende

  The Legend of the Second Guard

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-seven

  Twenty-eight

  Twenty-nine

  Thirty

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  FOR FIRST-BORN KYLE DURANGO

  AND SECOND-BORN ABBIE ZIMMER,

  WITH LOVE AND GRATITUDE

  One by one, all the tribes surrounding Tequende fell to war, diseased by the twin plagues of greed and power. People who had once lived in peace now enslaved one another’s children, ravaged sacred sites, and murdered the arts and learning that had flourished for millennia. Queen Four of Tequende prayed and fasted to Mother Machué, offered gifts of crop and beast to Intiq, danced in vigil under Elia’s sacred light…all in hope of saving her realm from the same fate. Finally, the Diosa, the great spiritual leader of the realm, offered this counsel to the queen:

  Let the beloved firstborn children remain at home to learn their family trade, tend to aging parents, and inherit the land and property of their birthright. This will show our warring neighbors that you are not so desperate to steal the first fruit of a family, and it will prove to our people that you honor their traditions and their legacy. But peace demands a high price from her followers. You must require each family of the realm to surrender a second-born child upon reaching the age of reason and skill: fifteen harvests. Train them to be the mightiest soldiers in all the lands, and your borders shall stand, your people remain free. In one hundred years’ time, the renown alone of these second-born guardians shall act as a great wall to the suffering outside of it. Do this, and Tequende will not fall.

  In the Realm of Tequende, on the full moon of the new year, all second children of the land having reached the age of fifteen must report for service to the Crown; and thereafter solemnly swear to uphold the Oath of Guilds to serve and protect their Queen, at all costs, above all else. After a year of military training, the finest among them join the ranks of the Second Guard, the mighty army of Tequende, until the age of nineteen. Those not chosen, however, must become indentured servants of the realm until the age of twenty-one. This great sacrifice made by each family is seen as an honor, not an obligation, and is borne by all in equal measure: a truly noble gift I’ve witnessed nowhere else in the wide world, save this remote highland realm.

  —M. DE SAAVEDRA, The Rise of Tequende: A History

  Tali stared at the full moon through the open porthole, listening to the gentle slap of waves against the boat’s hull. The milky white light of the Goddess Elia shone across the worn planks of the small cabin. For years Tali had been waiting for this moon, waiting for her chance to serve the Queen, as her mother had before her. She ought to have been exhausted by the day’s preparations and the evening’s farewell party, but sleep would not find her.

  “You win, Goddess,” Tali whispered out the porthole, then rose from her narrow bed. She paused over the still figure of her sister in the bed opposite hers, wrapped in the warm blanket of sleep. Mouser, the six-toed cat, lay nuzzled beside her, nesting in the spoon of her body. For a brief moment, Tali’s heart tightened inside her chest. Nel was a vision of peace. Leaving her behind the next morning would cut worse than the Blade of Tequende.

  Tali took a deep breath and turned away. She quickly pulled on her father’s old pants and tunic, wrapping the leather belt around her waist twice so that it would buckle. During the day she dressed the part required of a merchant’s daughter: bold colors to attract the trade they so relied upon. But she felt more comfortable, more like herself, in her father’s worn castoffs. She braided her hair into a thick rope, then slid on soft leather boots that made no sound as she climbed the wooden ladder up to the main deck. How empty and stark it seemed, with only the river’s sloshing waves to break the silence.

  Normally crates, baskets, and barrels covered the deck, but earlier in the day all had been cleared to make way for the party…and a grand party it had been. Hired musicians had played one merry song after another for raucous, appreciative guests. Cups of mountain ale had been raised high and often, toasting Tali’s name and the numerous titles now bestowed upon it: Talimendra Sanchez Kalloryn of the Magda River Traders, Second-Born of the Sun Guild, Sworn Servant and Protector of the Realm of Tequende. Tali couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement every time those words rang out. The first full moon of the new year had finally come. Tomorrow Tali would leave the only life she had ever known to seek honor for her family, just as her second-born mother had done twenty years before.

  Tali stepped over bits of litter, remnants of the festive streamers, flower garlands, and paper lanterns that Nel had labored over for days. The best sister in the realm, she thought, pulling up a plank near the prow and withdrawing a well-worn sword. Agile as a trade cat, she leapt onto the railing of the boat, only a handspread in width, and circled her way around the deck, practicing thrusts and parries under the moon’s watchful eye.

  The wind picked up, making the boat’s movements more erratic, but Tali’s sense of balance, honed from years of practice and a life on the river, took over. Her arms shot out as the boat keeled. Knees bending slightly, Tali forced herself to circle the boat faster, then once backward. Her breathing came quickly now, matching her small, sure steps. She cartwheeled off the railing on the last turn, imagining an opponent trying to disarm her.

  With the help of an empty ale barrel, she hopped to the cabin roof to practice the movements she’d been taught by the combat maestros in Porto Sol. Whenever her father had been able to afford a lesson and an extra day at dock, Tali had learned what she could about swordsmanship and archery, eager to memorize every move from the maestros so she could later practice them on the boat. The sword sliced down, left then right, then diagonally across her body.

  Tali gave one last lunge with the wooden sword, then sat to catch her breath. The Magda River looked luminous, reflecting Elia’s light like a shimmery veil across the water. Theirs was the sole tradeboat docked in the small port town of Girado; the party guests had all taken advantage of the night winds to sail into Porto Sol, where the morning market would be brisk. Her father would lose a good day’s trade, but Tali’s new horse was stabled in town, and she would have need of it in a few short hours.

  She had to get some sleep.

  As she stood and stretched her aching arms, a flash of light from upriver made her turn. She peered through the darkness to make out the vessel: by the size of it a tradeboat, but the lights were
strange. In addition to the usual prow lantern, a more intense light blazed from the stern. Tali sprang from her perch and ran to the railing.

  Fire!

  The other tradeboat approached fast, propelled by the wind, which blew flames up the main masthead. A man appeared near the prow, a small child crying in his arms.

  “Aid me!” he yelled. “The rest of my family is trapped below!”

  Tali’s heart pounded. “Intiq, have mercy,” she muttered, kicking off her boots and shedding the heavy belt and sword. “Father! Awake!” she yelled, then dove into the icy water. The current was strong, but Tali swam with sure strokes toward the boat, which now blazed like a torch down the river.

  “Quick, the child!” Tali reached to the man, whom she now saw was not much older than she. The child in his arms began to cry, and clung to him like tribella vines.

  “Larisa, you must let go,” the young man pleaded, peeling her off and lowering her into Tali’s waiting arms.

  “I’ve got her,” Tali yelled, holding tightly to the flailing toddler.

  The young man nodded and ran to the cabin. Tali struggled to keep her head above water as Larisa thrashed. After a few seconds of wrestling, Tali finally managed to pin one of the girl’s arms beneath her own and gain some control. Slowly she fought her way back across the current, the child’s terrified screams ringing in her ear. Tali saw her father dive into the river in his nightclothes, while Nel quickly lit the lanterns on their boat.

  Tali kept her eyes on those lights, willing her free arm to keep slicing through the water.

  Not much farther now. Finally, her muscles quivering, Tali reached the rope ladder Nel had tossed over the side. Her sister gathered up the wailing child and bundled her into a blanket.

  At times it’s a grace, Tali thought, hauling herself onto the deck, that Nel cannot hear. She turned back to the railing to see her father swimming with a young boy on his back. The boy looked as terrified as his younger sister, but mercifully, he remained quiet. Not far behind them, the young man and his father were helping a woman through the current, who appeared to be far along with child.

  “Is that everyone?” Tali called.

  “Sí, m’ija,” replied her father. In times of stress, he often reverted to the Far World tongue of his parents.

  Tali leaned over the side and gave each a hand as they struggled up the rope ladder. Nel had managed to work her magic; Larisa now clung quietly to her shoulder, sniffling softly. When the girl saw her big brother, she reached out her arms, and he folded her into his chest.

  A short while later the children and their parents sat on deck wrapped in warm blankets that Nel had rummaged from the boat’s stores. Mugs of hot coffee were poured and honey rolls divided between the children. The young man’s eyes followed Nel’s every move as she circled among them, making sure each one was comfortable. “My gratitude to you and your family,” he said to Nel as she refilled his coffee. “Thank the Gods your little sister had not yet gone to bed.” Nel nodded politely and looked at Tali for help.

  “You’re welcome, of course. But I am no little sister. She and I are the same age…identical twins, actually,” Tali said, speaking for Nel.

  “Twins?” he repeated in surprise.

  And no wonder, thought Tali, suddenly conscious of her own soggy appearance. We hardly look like mirror images at the moment. I must resemble a river rat instead.

  She still wore her father’s worn clothes, now dripping, and her braid ran thick with river mud. Nel, on the other hand, looked like a prize in her peach nightdress and hand-painted fringed shawl. Her sun-bleached hair seemed golden in the lantern light, her bronzed face still adorned with charcoal lining around her hazel eyes, her lips stained roseberry red for the party. She was a vision of loveliness. But truth be told, Nel always looked lovelier, even when the girls dressed alike and wore their hair the same way. This had never made Tali jealous, as others often suspected. While Tali knew some sisters competed mercilessly, it had never been their way; perhaps because she and Nel had been both mother and sister to each other for so long.

  “What is your name?” the young man asked Nel, clearly smitten.

  Again Nel looked at Tali.

  “Her name is Nel,” Tali answered, “but she does not speak aloud. River fever took our mother—and Nel’s hearing—when we were four. She can read the words on your mouth, though.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry…” the young man began.

  Nel turned to Tali and made a sign with her fingers.

  “She asks your name,” Tali said.

  The young man stood and faced Nel, offering his left hand, palm toward the sky, in the formal greeting of Tequende. “I am Paulo, firstborn of the Lake Chibcha Traders,” he said, bowing slightly.

  Nel placed her right palm on top of his and returned the bow. When they both lifted their heads, Nel’s warm smile seemed to cast a spell on Paulo.

  Tali raised an eyebrow and grinned. Her twin frequently had this effect on young men, bedazzling them with her gentle manner and quiet beauty. If only they knew what you were truly thinking beneath that innocent face, Tali often teased. She loved to hear Nel’s twinkly laugh in return, never begrudging her sister the constant trail of would-be suitors. Perhaps the arrival of Paulo and his needy family was a blessing in its own way. At least they would provide a good distraction when Tali took her leave in a few short hours.

  The moment was broken by one last groan of the burning tradeboat as the Magda River swallowed it whole. Tali loved the river, but right now it reminded her of a bloated black snake.

  Paulo’s father stood at the railing, watching. Tali ached to see the despair in his eyes, the slump of his shoulders.

  “How did the fire start?” she asked gently.

  The tradesman hesitated and exchanged a look with Tali’s father. “It was an accident,” he replied.

  “What kind of accident?” Tali continued, wrinkling her brow. While she had been in the river, she was so intent on reaching the crying child, she’d had no time to focus on the boat itself. But now a picture of the burning vessel came to mind. “I saw things sticking out of the cabin roof, like arrows,” she said slowly. “It almost looked like you’d been attacked.”

  The tradesman looked worriedly at her father, while Paulo stared at his feet, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

  “That’s enough, Tali,” her father said. “No more questions. Our guests are tired.”

  Tali bit the inside of her cheek and nodded. She turned toward Nel to exchange a silent word, but Nel’s concerned gaze rested on Larisa, who had started to cough.

  “It looks as if you hosted a party here tonight,” said the mother, fingering a broken streamer that dangled from the rail.

  “Indeed we did,” Tali’s father answered, his voice resuming its warmth. “Tali here rides for the Alcazar at first light.”

  “To serve in the Second Guard?” Paulo asked.

  “If I am so honored, yes,” Tali answered.

  “So honored?” Paulo repeated, his eyes darkening. “To serve as one of the queen’s henchmen?”

  “Silence, Paulo!” It was the tradesman’s turn to be stern.

  “What do you mean by henchmen?” Tali asked, but her father cut her off just as Paulo’s had.

  “I said enough. You must rest before your journey, Tali,” he said, ignoring her question. “Go on now.”

  Tali gave a quick bow of departure and headed to her cabin to change. As she stood in the darkness, a chill crawled down her back like a frost spider. Her mind lingered over Paulo’s bitter words. The queen’s henchmen? Nonsense. The Second Guard was the noblest army in the Nigh Worlds; everyone knew that. But Paulo’s father did know something more about the fire, she was sure of it. For some reason, he seemed frightened of the truth. And whatever that truth was, it troubled her father as well.

  The Second Guard army is charged with defending the borders of Tequende and maintaining peace across the realm. The troops are highly tra
ined and revered throughout the Nigh World. While other kingdoms would be tempted to exploit such a fighting force for conquest and spoils, the Tequendian army provides a haven from the disease of war, despite its readiness for it. In addition to scores of sentry posts placed strategically throughout the realm, their primary fortress, the Alcazar, lies on an island in Lake Chibcha.

  —M. DE SAAVEDRA, The Rise of Tequende: A History

  Intiq finally lifted his head from the cloak of night. First along the edges of the world, then slowly in the bowl of the sky, a pale blue light chased away the last bits of darkness. It seemed like days ago that Tali had lain awake in her bed while Nel and Mouser slept curled up across the cabin. After the fire and rescue, no one had even attempted sleep, save the younger children. Tali’s father and Nel had said their good-byes at the stable in Girado while it was still quite dark.

  As she followed the dirt road league after league, a jumble of questions vied for Tali’s attention. Why wouldn’t Paulo’s father tell the truth about the fire? What was the truth? How would his family survive, now homeless and without means to provide for themselves? Where would they go? And why did Paulo speak so ill of the Second Guard? Even the silver gown of the Moon Goddess lighting her path and the soft, rhythmic sound of hooves offered no peace.

  Fortunately, the golden chestnut mare had been so well trained that she proved almost effortless to ride. Tali was grateful that her father had insisted on buying the horse in Girado, where the best horse maestros in the realm kept their stables. As Intiq took command of the sky, the horse seemed to come alive, tossing her blond mane and tilting her head toward Intiq’s rays. Tali smiled and leaned over to run a hand along the mare’s smooth neck. “Flirting, are you?”

  Although Tali had taken riding lessons over the years, life on the boat had limited her time atop a horse. After an hour in the saddle, she already felt a creeping ache across her back and legs. She would certainly need to improve her riding skills if she expected to earn a position in the Guard.