The Ranger of Marzanna (The Goddess War #1) - Jon Skovron Page 0,2

he said. “But I would prefer to practice at the lake, where I could really let loose.”

“Your father said you must not be so ostentatious right now.”

“But why, Mother?”

She sighed. “Why don’t you come down and ask him yourself. Dinner is ready.”

“Fine…”

Sebastian followed his mother downstairs to the small dining room in their farmhouse. His father, Giovanni Portinari, was already seated at the head of the table. He was a solidly built, clean-shaven man with the olive-tinged complexion of an Aureumian, close-cropped gray hair, and thick bushy eyebrows.

“Sebastian,” he said by way of greeting.

Sebastian nodded. “Father.” He noticed that a fourth place had been set at the table. “Is Sonya coming home?”

“She usually makes an appearance after the first snowfall,” said his father. “If not today, then perhaps tomorrow.”

Sebastian wasn’t entirely sure what his older sister did for months at a time out in the wilderness. Hunting, camping, becoming one with nature, he supposed. Or as best as she could without the gift of elemental magic. Whatever it was, she’d been doing it for a couple years now, only stopping in now and then, and more often than not getting into an argument with their father when she did. She always upset the normal routine of the house whenever she appeared, and these days Sebastian found that he somewhat dreaded her visits because of that.

He sat down at the table as his mother brought in a platter of sour bread and boiled potatoes.

“Really, Mother?” he asked. “Potatoes again?”

“Now that it’s winter, we need to be conservative with our stores,” she said.

“No, we don’t,” he said. “I could go out there right now, thaw that field, and have a whole new crop growing in weeks.”

“No, you can’t,” said his father. “It draws too much attention.”

“From whom?” asked Sebastian. “I’m tired of keeping my magic a secret.”

“Tough.” His father sliced a potato as he spoke with the calm authority of a retired general. “You are only sixteen and as long as you live under my roof, you will do as I command.”

Sebastian glared at his father as he gnawed on a chunk of bread, but his father seemed not to notice. It really wasn’t fair. Ever since Sebastian had discovered he could perform elemental magic, his parents had constantly pushed him to hone his abilities. But what was the point if he was never allowed to show anyone what he could do? His sister was only two years older than him, yet she could go off and do whatever she wanted, while he was stuck here, practically a prisoner in his own home.

Then Sebastian heard an odd noise outside the house. Something he couldn’t place. The clank of steel, perhaps? His parents paused in their eating.

“Is that Sonya?” asked Sebastian.

His father’s thick eyebrows curled down into a scowl. “No.”

Suddenly the sound of breaking glass and splintering wood filled the house. Imperial soldiers charged into the dining room, their sabers drawn.

Sebastian froze, partly in terror and partly in awe of the absolute precision that these men displayed. But his father was a hardened veteran of the war. Without hesitation, he flipped the table, sending bread and steaming potatoes into the air, then grabbed Sebastian and his mother and hauled them in the only direction available: the staircase that led to the bedrooms.

Sebastian stumbled up the steps as his father yanked him roughly by the arm. Once they were inside his parents’ bedroom, Sebastian’s father slammed the door shut and shoved the wardrobe in front of it.

“Why are soldiers here?” Sebastian asked in a shaking voice. “What do they want?”

“Sebastian, you must listen to me!” Giovanni pulled his own imperial-issued saber down from the wall, his face set. “I will hold them at bay for as long as I can. You jump out the window and run to Olga Slanikova’s farm down the road. Hide in her cellar until…” He paused. “Until the soldiers are gone.”

Sebastian gaped at his father. Even in the fog of his panic he could see that those instructions made little sense. How would Sebastian know when the soldiers were gone if he was hiding in a cellar? And even more importantly, what would he do after?

“Father, do you want me to try…” He looked meaningfully down at the sword in his father’s hand. Steel would work even better as a conduit for his magic than iron bolts. It would destroy the sword, of course, but he was certain he could finish off the whole group of soldiers with one