Chapter 3 : The neckles

My mother's scream cut through me like a blade.

I did not think. I kicked the chariot door open. I jumped out. I hit the ground on my knees. I got up. I ran.

A huge soldier in heavy iron armor had my mom by the arm. His other hand was reaching for her necklace. She was holding it tight against her chest with both hands, crying and shaking her head.

"Let go of her!" I yelled.

I did not have a sword. I did not have a plan. But there was a loaf of bread in my apron pocket, left over from the bakery. I pulled it out and swung it at his face with everything I had.

It was a day old. It was hard as a brick.

The loaf cracked against his nose. A loud, wet snap echoed through the square. He stumbled backward, swearing, both hands flying to his face, and blood poured between his fingers.

"That is for touching my mom," I said. My voice was shaking. "The next one is for your mom."

Behind me, somebody coughed. It sounded a lot like a laugh trying to hide. I did not turn around to check.

My dad was already limping toward my mother. He wrapped his arms around her. "Mary, Mary, it is okay, I am here."

"He tried to take it," she sobbed. "Henry, he tried to take it."

"I know. I know."

I stood in front of them like a wall, holding my stale loaf of bread. Soldiers were closing in around us. Some of them looked angry. Most of them just looked like they had no idea what the rules were anymore, and I could not blame them.

Then a warm hand landed on my shoulder.

I should have jumped. Instead, my body did the worst thing possible. It leaned toward the touch. The pain in my chest eased, and my muscles went loose, and for one second I felt safe.

I hated it. I wanted to bite his hand.

"Take your hand off me," I muttered.

Kael took it off at once. That surprised me more than anything.

He stepped past me. He moved slowly, because he was still hurt, but nobody dared to stand in his way. He stopped in front of the soldier with the broken nose.

"Who gave you the order?"

The soldier dropped to one knee. "My lord, I thought, Lord Vance said the woman was hiding an enemy relic. He said it was for your protection."

"Lord Vance said," Kael repeated slowly.

Vance walked out of the crowd. He did not look smug. He looked worried, and he went straight to the King's side with a cloth in his hand.

"Your Majesty, you are bleeding again. Please, let me help you. I only wanted to be careful." He glanced at my mother with what looked like real concern. "The woman's necklace carries a mark I have seen on rebel gear. If I was wrong, I will gladly apologize. I wanted to be sure before you took these people near you."

Kael took the cloth. He did not use it.

"A rebel mark," he said. "In a village of bakers."

"Bakers can be rebels too, my king."

It sounded reasonable. For half a second, I even wondered if I was being unfair to the man.

"Rian," Kael said, without looking at me. "Ask your mother to show me the necklace."

I turned to her. She shook her head hard. In that borrowed coat, she looked so small.

"Mom," I said softly. "He will not take it. I will not let him. But I think we have to show him. Please."

She looked at my dad. He looked at her for a long time. Then he gave one slow nod.

My mother's hands trembled as she lifted the necklace out of her collar. It was a small silver pendant on a thin chain. I had seen it every day of my life, but I had never really looked at it. It was shaped like a moon cut in half, with a tiny blue stone in the middle.

I had always thought it was just a pretty thing my dad gave her.

Kael looked at it, and all the color left his face.

He did not say a word. Slowly, very slowly, he reached out one hand. His fingers were shaking. I had not seen that even when he was coughing blood on the ground.

"May I?" he asked.

My mother blinked. A king does not ask. But she nodded.

His fingertip touched the blue stone.

The pendant began to glow.

It was a soft, pale light at first. Then it grew, and the little stone burned bright blue, and silver spread over every face in the square. The soldiers gasped. Some of them stepped back. A few dropped their swords. Far above us, the clouds opened, and the full moon looked down on the burning village.

I felt it in my own chest, a quiet tug, like someone calling my name from far away.

"That cannot be," Kael whispered. "It cannot be real. They were all killed."

"Who was killed?" I said. "What is going on?"

Nobody answered me.

Vance had stopped moving. The cloth hung loose in his hand. His face had gone pale and tight, and he stared at the pendant like it was a snake.

"Your Majesty," he said, and his voice was not steady, "this must be a trick. We should leave."

"Be quiet," Kael said. He did not even look at him.

He turned to my mother, and his voice was low and careful, the way you talk to a hurt animal.

"Where did you get this?"

My mother took a long, shaky breath. She looked at my father. She looked at the soldiers. Then she looked at me, and her eyes filled again.

"It was never mine," she said. "I have only kept it safe for twenty-two years."

My stomach dropped.

"Mom, what? Dad gave you that on your wedding day."

"I gave her the chain, son," my father said quietly. He was staring at the ground. "Not the moon."

I looked at him. He did not look surprised. He did not look surprised at all.

My mother reached out and touched my cheek with her cold fingers.

"Rian," she whispered. "It belongs to you.”