Knight's Haven (Legend of the White Sword Book 4) Read online

  Knight’s Haven

  Legend of the White Sword – Book 4

  Legend of the White Sword:

  Ivy’s Tangle

  Ivy’s Bind

  Ivy’s Blossom

  Knight’s Haven

  The Library of Anukdun (forthcoming)

  Other books by P.D. Kalnay

  The Arros Chronicles:

  The Spiders of Halros

  The High Priestess

  Jewel of the Empire (forthcoming)

  The Alien Documentaries:

  Resurrection

  Retribution (forthcoming)

  Redemption (forthcoming)

  Children’s Books:

  Burn Bright

  Knight’s Haven

  Legend of the White Sword – Book 4

  P.D. Kalnay

  Misprint Press Publishing

  Copyright © 2016 P.D. Kalnay

  ISBN: 978-0-9950515-4-6

  Cover Design by P.D. Kalnay

  Author Website: www.pdkalnay.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed by a newspaper, magazine, or journal.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead is coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1 – A Pain in the Back

  Chapter 2 – Out Shopping

  Chapter 3 – The First Cut

  Chapter 4 – Stolen Happiness

  Chapter 5 – Burning Down the House

  Chapter 6 – Old Junk

  Chapter 7 – Pumps and Plans

  Chapter 8 – Closed Circle

  Chapter 9 – Anchors Away

  Chapter 10 – New Neighbours

  Chapter 11 – Marielain’s Books

  Chapter 12 – Back to School

  Chapter 13 – Meeting the Neighbours

  Chapter 14 – Calling, Long Distance

  Chapter 15 – The Way to a Heart

  Chapter 16 – A Pound of Flesh

  Chapter 17 – The Price of Fame

  Chapter 18 – Impossible Possibilities

  Chapter 19 – Vented Frustration

  Chapter 20 – Love Letters

  Chapter 21 – Third Time’s the Charm

  Chapter 22 – A Blast from the Past

  Chapter 23 – Partial Answers

  Chapter 24 – Suitable Attire

  Chapter 25 – The Second Cut

  Chapter 26 – It Takes a Village

  Chapter 27 – Fire and Lightning

  Chapter 28 – The Final Cut

  Chapter 1 – A Pain in the Back

  In the middle of a fitful sleep, I dreamt the strangest dream. I dreamt I’d grown wings and had been caught in a giant butterfly net, only to be pinned down, still alive, and was at last locked behind glass. No one could hear my screams. Just when I’d given up, sure that I’d finally found rest in death’s embrace, an annoying voice called out. It was faint at first, but grew louder…

  “Jack, do you mean to sleep all day?”

  “Maybe,” I mumbled, still mostly asleep.

  “It’s almost midday,” Ivy said. “I’ve been waiting for hours for you to get up.”

  “Good morning, Master.”

  “Good morning, Master.”

  Two squeakier voices joined in, destroying my last attempt at slumber. I sat up. The room was dark except for the dim light coming from the hallway. It contained only the hard, narrow bed I’d slept on, was the size of a prison cell, and had been cut from the mountainside. Four people filled the doorway to my new bedroom. One tiny girl and three teenier metal people were staring at me. It was clear that Jack’s sleep was properly over.

  “Fine, I’m up,” I said. “What’s for breakfast?”

  Now that I was awake, my stomach gave a mighty rumble.

  “The fruit we picked yesterday,” Ivy said.

  There was unmistakeable grumpiness in her tone.

  “OK, let’s go eat.”

  I groggily followed the others down the hallway. There was no need to dress since I’d fallen asleep in my clothes. Ivy and I had moved into our new home the previous evening. Supposedly, I’d lived there in another life, but none of the mountainside apartment was familiar. The hallway formed the spine of the apartment with rooms on either side. One end of the hallway ended at Ivy’s new bedroom and the other at the only door in or out of the apartment. That door led to a bigger hallway which opened onto the workshop and would eventually take a person outside. The walls and ceiling were unadorned dark rock; they weren’t jagged, but the tool marks were visible, and no decoration had been added. Marielain Blackhammer had merely finished it to a liveable state before moving on, making our home one short step above a mine… or a dungeon.

  “I can’t believe you slept so long,” Ivy said.

  She was definitely annoyed. We’d been separated for almost a year; I wondered if the excitement of seeing me again had already worn off.

  “I think I only fell asleep a few hours ago,” I said. “There’s no way to tell without windows in my room.”

  “You seemed tired enough last night.”

  I’d yawned in the middle of kissing her.

  “It’s these stupid wings,” I said.

  My night had been hellish. I was a back sleeper and had been my whole life. Every time I drifted off to sleep, I’d rolled onto my back—and boom—wide awake again. Having a couple of giant wings sticking out of your back makes the odd pea under the mattress seem like a good deal.

  “Oh, Jack!”

  Ivy giggled.

  “What?”

  “Wings are the pride of all winathen. They love their wings above all else, claiming that they’re the purest of the fae because they retain the gift of flight.”

  Ivy’s tone said she wasn’t onboard with that notion. I’d only had the wings for a day, but…

  “Maybe, they’ll eventually grow on me–”

  Ivy snorted.

  “You know what I mean. If I could actually fly, that’d be awesome, but since they aren’t good for anything, they’re just a hassle.”

  Ivy got her laughter under control.

  “As I understand it, they’re more than decorative,” she said. “Your wings are tied to your magic. They are receptors, like bees’ antennae or cats’ whiskers.”

  That made me think of something else.

  “Did you know about Ms. Mopat?”

  Ivy stopped short of the kitchen and looked back at me.

  “Know what about her?”

  “That she’s really a monster who just looks like a maid?”

  “It was obvious. Everyone who met her knew what she was and knew to be afraid of her. Those aware of your grandmother’s true identity, knew to be terrified.”

  “I didn’t.”

  Ivy shook her head.

  “You were petting that thing and sleeping with it–”

  “I thought it was just a housecat. You threw her down the hall.”

  “I didn’t think about it at the time,” Ivy said. “Afterwards, I was afraid. I spoke to your grandmother, and she forbade the Mopat from visiting your room. How did you learn the truth?”

  “She killed Mr. Smith right in front of me.”

  “He must have transgressed against the rules of the house.”

  Ivy didn’t look overly shocked by my revelation.

  “He was trying to kill me right before that. I still don’t know why.”

  “He was b
ound in some fashion.” Ivy turned back to the kitchen and opened the door. “He had commitments.”

  It was exactly what Mr. Ryan had said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “There are contracts and agreements on the Seventh World?” Ivy asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “And if someone breaks one of those agreements, what is the result?”

  “It depends, I guess. You might lose money, or get sued, or have your reputation ruined. Maybe go to jail if there’s fraud involved…”

  Ivy filled two wide bowls with the little blue fruit we’d picked the day before.

  “Here there are many kinds of contracts which bind parties together. Some can’t be broken, and others have clauses which result in immediate repercussions if they are. Mr. Smith travelled down the Tree every year.”

  I hadn’t put that together, but now it seemed obvious. There was no other real reason to visit Glastonbury Manor.

  “That makes me think he had an outstanding debt or obligation,” Ivy went on, handed me a bowl, and led me to the living room across the hall. “Mr. Ryan didn’t fully trust him, but I sensed no ill intent. Did you learn of his motivations?”

  “No, he just said that he didn’t have a choice. I guess I may never find out.”

  “Would knowing his reasons make it better somehow?”

  I thought about that.

  “I guess not.”

  I looked around at the living room. Not much light came through the narrow windows. They faced north, but the island sat smack dab on the ‘equator’ of the First World, and the sun passed directly overhead. The room seemed dreary, and it was filled with furniture. Weird, alien-looking furniture. Everything was just a bit off, from proportions to the angles of the joints. I suspect most people wouldn’t have been able to say why the chairs and tables looked not-quite-right, but my eyes couldn’t miss the subtle differences. Living rooms are supposed to be comfortable sanctuaries where you want to relax. Marielain’s living room didn’t give off that kind of vibe, and the chairs had backs. I’d have to make myself a stool if I hoped to sit.

  “You wanna eat outside?” I asked.

  “Let’s eat on the balcony,” Ivy said.

  We headed back up the hallway with breakfasts in hand. The metal feet of three otherwise silent companions clicked and clacked behind us.

  “Don’t you guys have something to do?” I asked One.

  “No, Master, we are ready to serve you.”

  He sounded, and the others looked, so excited by the prospect that I didn’t feel right telling them to get lost. Ivy gave me a smirk like she knew what I was thinking. We sat on the balcony, off of her room, looking down on the city and eating our breakfasts. The vine tattooed on my wrist was itchy, and I scratched now and again. The actual vine that tattoo symbolised would keep Ivy and I imprisoned together on Knight’s Haven until we died.

  “Leave it alone and you’ll get used to it,” Ivy said, between bites.

  “I saw the vine.”

  “You can’t get far enough away on the island for it to do more than ache.”

  “I’m sorry they hurt you. If I hadn’t given you the necklace, none of this would have happened.”

  Ivy smiled, but there was pain in her eyes.

  “I’d be dead. Duzalain came to kill me when I returned to Talanth. Without my bees…”

  “Sir Andriel told us. You should see the man-crush he’s got for Mr. Ryan.”

  That seemed to cheer her, and Ivy laughed along with me.

  “I told you he was a legendary hero,” she said.

  “It’s hard to see him as anything other than Mr. Ryan. He’s impressive enough.”

  Ivy nodded. We didn’t speak again until our food was gone, and we both had bowls half-filled with the seeds. I threw mine off the balcony—or tried to. The seeds bounced back from the edge and fell across the flat stone in front of us.

  “Jack, you’re making a mess!”

  “That’s weird,” I said.

  I crawled over to the edge. In keeping with the rest of the place, the balcony was handrail-free. Tentatively, I reached out, feeling for the invisible force field that had blocked the seeds. My hand felt nothing as it passed beyond the point the seeds had stopped. There was no barrier, but there was something. I felt lines of something crisscrossing the open air at the edge. A fine, invisible lattice began at symbols carved into the rock. Each was so tiny that it was imperceptible from a few feet away.

  “There’s something here at the edge.” I pressed my face close to the floor of the balcony.

  “Yes, those are stone wards. Petrathen use them for preventing intrusion, and–”

  I excitedly cut her off.

  “You know about petrathen enchantments?”

  “Only a little. They also use them for securing their prisoners.”

  Ivy looked into her lap, and a few tears leaked out.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories,” I said.

  She’d been held captive for years under the Talantial Palace.

  “We are together now; I’ll try to leave it in the past.”

  “I wonder why they let my hand through, but not the seeds.”

  Ivy stood and walked to the edge. Before I could stop her, she leaned hard against the invisible barrier. The balcony jutted out hundreds of feet above the city. I half jumped for her before I realised she wasn’t going anywhere.

  “You can pass them because you made them,” Ivy said. “You have permission. I do not.”

  She sat again.

  “Jack?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I don’t want to live here.”

  Marielain’s home was depressing.

  “I’m sure we can fix it up and make it less dreary…”

  “It isn’t that.”

  “Then what?”

  “I can’t live in a place where I can’t even open the doors. It’s another kind of prison. I wanted to go out while you slept, but–”

  “You couldn’t open the doors?”

  Ivy nodded.

  “We can leave them open…”

  “I looked in the workshop,” Ivy said. “Those doors should be kept locked. Too many dangerous things are stored here.”

  If something happened to me, Ivy would be trapped inside forever, or at least until she died. She couldn’t even jump to her death.

  “We can find the house that’s in the best shape and fix it up,” I said. “I’ll just come back up here to work on stuff.”

  “Master?” One said quietly.

  “Truly?” Ivy asked.

  “I wouldn’t want to be locked-up, either,” I said.

  “Master?” One said again, a little louder.

  “Thank you!”

  Ivy sounded incredibly relieved, which irritated me. Why did she think I’d be OK with keeping her locked-up? I took a deep breath and let it go.

  “Master!”

  “What!”

  “Master,” One said, “you can simply give the Mistress permission to open the doors.”

  I looked down at his tarnished-silver face.

  “I can?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “You just do it, Master.” One sounded as though he was slightly less in awe of my amazingness at that moment.

  I shrugged. It was worth a try, and I didn’t want to live down in the ruined city.

  “Ivangelain Gardenborn Venantial, I formally give you permission to do all the door opening, and closing, your heart desires.” I couldn’t resist adding, “Use this power wisely.”

  Ivy hit me and then went to try the main doors. She stopped in front of them, and they silently swung open. Then they swung closed again. Open. Closed. Open. Closed. Open. Closed. All to the backdrop of Ivy’s delighted laughter. It would have gotten annoying fast except that I was watching how it worked, and that was fascinating. The heavy iron doors were tied to hinges, frames, and the surrounding rock. Symbols on the do
ors came alive. They didn’t turn-on, or light up, or do anything I saw with my eyes, but they definitely came alive. When the doors moved, symbols etched into the floor, walls, and ceiling also came alive, one after another, pulling the doors open or closed. It was… fascinating. When they were closed, new symbols, surrounding the doors, came to life. I didn’t know exactly how it worked, but I could tell that their job was to both hold the doors shut and to reinforce them somehow.

  The whole of it fit together in a way that could only be described as elegant. I said as much to Ivy. She left the doors ajar and frowned up at me.

  “They are impressive,” she said, “but a small amount of humility can go a long way. Let’s find more to eat. I’m still hungry.”

  I was too, and we headed outside. Ivy shut the doors behind us before I had a chance.

  Chapter 2 – Out Shopping

  Gritty dust swirled around us on the landing outside the main doors, but the sun was shining, and it looked to be a nice day for exploring. Ivy and I didn’t talk as we descended the five hundred, eighty-seven steps to the city below. I counted as I went. The only sounds to be heard were the cries of seabirds in the distance and the seemingly inescapable click-clack-bang of tiny metal feet behind us. The city looked as desolate and ruined as it had the last time I’d come down those steps. I counted myself lucky that Ivy could open the doors now because no structure within sight looked close to habitable. Havensport was more of a visiting-the-ruins-for-a-day-on-a-bus-trip kind of place than an I-want-to-live-here-when-I-grow-up one. Ivy had said that people would flock at the opportunity to live on Knight’s Haven. I found it hard to believe.

  “You’ve been here a long time,” I said, when we reached the stone archway at the bottom of the steps. “Where should we explore first?”

  “The warehouses,” Ivy said, without hesitation. “I couldn’t safely go to the port level.”

  The bottom part of Havensport consisted of warehouses and abandoned markets. The middle was mainly residential, and the upper level, where we were, had historically been filled with fancy estates. Only some of the warehouses and the old headquarters of the Order remained intact. Sirean’s fire had burned everywhere and in places had melted the stone. I started forward through the open archway.