by J. M. Ivie
“You’d do well not to speak to a man, especially a Count, such as you are speaking,” Gustav said.
“The fact that you are a man means nothing, even less your status.”
Gustav cackled, leaning back in his seat. “I have amassed a fortune, Ms. Turnér. A fortune that could swallow yours a hundred times over.”
“I don’t see how claiming the labor and time of those you deem lesser than yourself makes you any more of a person than me, a woman, who works every day without the aid of anyone, to become something. You, sir, are not suited to be a Baron, or Noble, and definitely not a Count.” Nora stepped down from the chair. “So, you would do well not to speak to a woman the way you have just spoken.”
Barak stood from his seat and clapped. He wasn’t the only one either, for a few others clapped as well.
Before long, everyone at the table cheered Nora. It was a strangely satisfying sight, seeing Gustav curl in defeat and buckle under the pressure of his peers. I almost saw him shriveling right before my eyes. At the same time, it was hollow. They only cheered because Barak had the audacity to stand and cheer. To be bested by a Fiermontian at chivalry, or gallantry, wasn’t exactly something that tasted right on their tongues.
“Well, enough of this bickering. A toast!” Nora exclaimed, not shying away from being the center of attention. “To spring, for it approaches!”
The entire table yelled in unison, “To spring!” and clinked their glasses together. Everyone seemed back to normal. All except me. The gaping hole in my unsettled stomach only seemed to grow as I stared at the table. The food set before me wasn’t appetizing. The sight appalled me. My eyes settled on Zahra who smiled from across the table. It was brief, and her smile vanished when her eyes met mine. A strange look flitted across her face… something that looked akin to guilt.
T W E L V E
THE COOL, SPRING WIND rushed through the garden bringing with it nature’s magic. As the wind peeled about the bushes and trees, the leaves of the barren plants burst forth. Life surrounded us all. All the magic and beauty that blossomed around me brought back memories.
The three moons triangulated. Pure white rays washed over the land. Wherever the light touched is where spring burst into life and winter faded. Green replaced the barren gray and brown. The spring was always the most beautiful on Bouldarcaven.
Barak’s shoulder brushed against mine as he scanned the crowd. “What would six Talismen want here at the Hall?” He had to bend down to whisper.
It was at that moment, when I turned to face him, I realized how formidable his height was. He stood nearly a head taller than the other people in the garden, towering above everyone. I always envied my fellow Rangers since I stood an inch below six feet and the others all stood high above that. I heard the Villain stood the tallest at six three, though, I guessed Niall had to be that height as well.
I shook my head, realizing I allowed my thoughts to wander, and Barak had left. Now it was Nora who stood beside me, slipping her arm around mine.
“Baron Heti-Giconi is interesting, wouldn’t you agree?” She looked toward him, watching his tall figure weave through the crowd.
“Very interesting,” I laughed. “Why? Do you fancy him?”
“And why would I?” Her raised brow and not-so hidden smirk made me think she felt otherwise. “I guess it is just uncommon for a man of rank and power to side with women. I want to know why he did it.”
“It’s because he usually sides with women. No matter the subject.”
Her eyes snapped to mine, making me rethink what I said. But, instead of inquiring further about my relationship with him, Nora slowly nodded. “Do you find it strange that I am inquiring after a Fiermontian?”
“A little,” I admitted. “Fiermontians and Luxterrians have a history of not getting along.”
Nora snorted a laugh. “Not getting along is a nice way to put it. I supposed the Luxterrians never forgave the Fiermontians… The sins of our ancestors. I wish we could all get along.”
I leaned against the railing, looking at her. Nora’s eyes darted away from me toward the crowd of people in the garden. “I made the Emperor and Empress of Cathoon’s outfits. Aren’t they splendid?”
I nodded, looking over to the two royals who talked with the King of the Woodlands. It was anything but casual. Their bodies board straight and their eyes, like two crystals, looked unfeeling and inhuman. “Does everyone always wear white to balls?”
Nora grinned, “No… only to this gala. It’s to signify the changing of winter.”
“Then, why did you wear yellow, and why did Zahra wear red?”
“Zahra wears red because her father was Fiermontian. She does this every other year,” Nora said. “And I wear yellow because I’m a ray of sunshine.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Ray of sunshine indeed.”
“Are you saying I’m not?”
I raised my hands, “I surrender.”
“Coward.” Nora smirked, shaking her head with a laugh.
“What happened to Zahra’s father?” I asked, finding my attention drawn back to Nora.
She paused, looking away for a second. “He died long ago.” After a long moment of silence, Nora smiled and turned away from me. “I suppose I will go try to find someone to talk to and leave you to your brooding.”
“I’m not brooding.”
She bent her head in a mock bow. “I’m going to find Baron Heti-Giconi and ask him some questions.” Nora waved at me, still somewhat under the affects of the wine she consumed I supposed, and soon found her entertainment in Barak’s presence.
The nagging thought came into my mind. Zahra had remained quiet, not even coming to Nora’s aid when Gustav insulted her. I wasn’t sure what to think…
I sighed, and after another failed attempt at shoving my hands into my non-existent pockets, I worked my way through the archways. The entire building curved, veiled by the waterfalls. I didn’t need to know why Zahra had been silent.
When I rounded the final corner, hoping I would find solitude from the mass of Hierarchy swarming the Hall, I froze. Zahra stood but twenty feet away. She was speaking with Rai Masters and looking very happy doing so. My spirit stuttered inside; my heart tugged back.
I turned my heel. It would be pointless to talk with her. I edged out of the area and into another waterfall-veiled garden. To the left the water roared, and to the right was the barren mountain. Moonslight swept over where I now stood, stroking the earth with their delicate rays. Flowers burst forth, and daisies popped their heads up from the now lush green grass. It reminded me of a memory… Mother.
She had taken me out to the mountain when I was six, and we looked at the dell. Winter had sapped the life away from the realm. I had stared at the naked earth, awed by how dead everything appeared.
“Watch, Andras…” The valley looked so much like the mountain I stared at now. Heat rose behind my eyes and a swelling burned my throat. “Winter is like death. It comes if we want it to or not. But, the life of spring is like the love shown by our King.”
Her touch seemed to reach past the bounds of time and memory, soothing me in that moment. Then, something gripped my heart. A numb, stinging pain. Just as when I was a child, the entire valley erupted in green, glowing under the light of the three moons. Trees, stripped of their vigor, now burst with fresh juniper colored leaves. Like the spring, my anger toward the Talismen returned—alive and passionate. Despite Barak’s orders to stand back, I couldn’t…
“Apollo?”
I spun around, my heart beating wildly. Not now. Not now. I need to go find Barak. “Countess Zahra,” I said, bowing to her with such coldness it surprised me winter hadn’t returned.
Her face fell when I spoke that word. It wasn’t play or in jest I spoke. Formal. “I suppose I owe you an apology.”
I didn’t want to feel anything toward her… but, the way she spoke made my stomach clench. With a deep breath in, I steeled my nerves. “For what?” Things were already becoming… comp
licated. I wanted to remain unattached, like Barak. But, with every tease, every word, every look, I became more and more attached to Zahra. “I’m only an Archivist. You owe me nothing.”
Her mouth opened, then snapped shut again. I didn’t know what she was thinking, and I couldn’t tell. She was still a Countess, and I was still a nobody. I realized that was how it should be, and should remain.
“Do you believe this is easy, Apollo?”
“No, I think it’s comfortable,” I said at her, perhaps harsher than I should have. “Your life, it’s all anyone needs—you even have the Emperor of Crēov competing for your affections.” I breathed in, doing my best to keep my burning emotions at bay.
She scowled, “The way you spoke sounds more like frustration, Mr. Faithe.”
Despite how much I didn’t want to admit it, she was right. I couldn’t say another word. It frustrated me. Everything frustrated me… “I’m sorry, my lady. I believe I’ve wasted your time.” I bowed to her, and began to walk away, but stopped when her hand grabbed my arm.
“You have not.” Her emerald eyes settled into mine. A layer peeled away from my eyes and I saw a glimpse of something. Something so far out of my grasp, yet, it dangled right in front of me. “What has happened to you, Mr. Faithe? What cruel things have made you as you are?” Her words lacked any jab or bite. They were genuine. Searching. An emotion—an emotion I couldn’t decipher—bled through.
“You don’t want to know.”
She drew nearer, her lips inches away from mine. “And, if I did?”
I clenched my jaw, biting back whatever simmered to the surface of my heart, threatening to boil over. “Then I’d ask… beg you—” I wished to inch away… but something kept me rooted to the spot in which I stood. Something in me… I wanted to kiss her. I winced. “Keep me at a distance.”
She took a step back, yet, still held tight to my arm. “My father wasn’t a Noble, Count, or even a Baron. It was quite a scandal… Mother, they tried to remove her as Countess and expel her from society because of the marriage. I cannot say for certain, but they assume, that since there were no other suitable replacements for the house of Winsdale, she had to remain,” she whispered.
When I looked at her, I saw tears surface in her eyes.
“She said that, a season after their marriage, someone sent for him and—” she bit her cheek, sorting through whatever threatened to surface. “They killed him.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t—” I stopped. “I didn’t know…”
Zahra smiled, shaking her head. “It’s all right. I never even met him.” She released her grip on my arm as if realizing how long she lingered there. “My mother always told me that if I looked into the mirror, I would see my father’s eyes staring back at me. She said it was marvelous really, the fact our eyes were the same.”
She looked at me. The stirring in my chest built again, the guilt mixed with something… unfamiliar. Pleasant, yet, absolutely horrid.
“I wanted you to know, despite all you think, I want to be more than a Countess to you—” she paused, looking at me with a soft grin. “As you’re more than a just another Archivist to me.”
T H I R T E E N
I STARED INTO ZAHRA’S EYES for a long moment, not sure what to say or how to respond. The words froze in my mouth.
“We are all more than we let on.” She managed a smile. It was a shy smile, and a tinge of red surfaced on her cheeks. “I apologize. I suppose I was too open…”
“Don’t apologize.” I took her hand in mine and pressed a kiss on the back. I laughed at myself, shaking my head. “I am the one who should apologize. I said I wouldn’t assume again, but, it appears I broke that promise.”
Her eyes lit with amusement. “I truly cannot make sense of you, Apollo. One moment you seem such a hard man, and the next? You’re as tender as a dove.”
“If you wish me to be one or the other, say the word.”
Again, amusement danced in her features. She seemed to consider what I said, sorting through the responses she should toss at me. “If you can somehow strike the balance between them, bringing one out when it’s suited… I’d like that. I don’t want you rid of one when I do so enjoy both.”
“I heard sarcasm.”
“Honesty is not sarcasm, Mr. Faithe.” Zahra lifted her chin in mock indignation. “I’m quite offended you think so low of me.”
“There are many things I think of you, Countess.” I returned her formality, though, this time in jest. “And none of them consider you low. Well, aside from—”
I heard a man cough behind us, jerking our attention from each other to the noise.
“Countess, what are you doing?” Rai Masters walked up to us, scowling at me with a burning stare.
“I am talking with Mr. Faithe. Can I help you with anything, Emperor?” Zahra turned to him and slipped her arm around mine. The touch, as always, seemed electric.
“Countess, I have allowed you to bring this…” he looked at me, as if trying to avoid the bitter taste of the word Archivist on his tongue. “He must leave.”
“Emperor Masters, please. This is my Archivist. He has done nothing to warrant you wishing him gone,” Zahra snapped. Her body stiffened as she stood between Masters and myself.
There was something in his eyes as they roamed over Zahra, barely flashing me a glance. Something I didn’t like. “Have you forgotten the event at the table, Countess?” The way he drew out the word Countess, enunciating every letter to its fullest, crawled below my skin.
My spine straightened, and I squared my shoulders. My muscles twitched under the strain of keeping so still and suppressing the need to slaughter the man. “Sorry to have offended you by my mere presence.”
Masters shot me a snake-like smirk. “I only wish to help you, Countess.” He took in my appearance one last time before he left. It ate at me. It was like I was dirt, or an insect, that would come to bother him. He wanted to brush me off or swat me away.
“Well, that was invigorating,” Zahra sighed the words out. “Apollo, what in Welkinia were you thinking talking to Emperor Masters like that?”
I went to snap back, frustrated enough to rekindle my deep-seated animosity I harbored toward the Hierarchy. I stopped. Something caught my attention. In the waning moonslight, the waterfalls glistened. Not with the pure, crystal water it gushed a moment ago, but red. I wasn’t the only one to notice this either. Shrieks and yells echoed throughout the area as the Hierarchy recoiled from the water.
Barak’s words resurfaced in my mind, biting at my memory with teeth of cold reality. “You will soon see, my brother, the reason I am here. I will write it in blood, and the waterfalls will flow red before the night has ended.”
The screams grew louder, and I turned and covered Zahra’s eyes. Beads of blood fell and to the ground like rubies in the darkness. One dripped on my cheek, my stomach cording within me.
Then it happened.
Seven men dropped from the fall. Like puppets hung from strings, they all snapped to a stop halfway down the waterfall—dangling from the ropes tied around their necks.
“What is going on?” Zahra’s muffled voice vibrated against my chest as she tried to push away.
I pressed her closer, turning to look at the men. Their mouths and eyes gaped open, retaining whatever horror they had witnessed before death. “Don’t look, Zahra.” I scanned each of the faces. Six I barely recognized… the seventh… the seventh made my stomach twist. Count Gustav. His face was completely drained of color. His bloodshot eyes were open, staring into mine as if holding on to the last bit of life within.
It took everything in me not to retch. This… display. It was a brutal and bloody exhibit of power—a power to be feared. It dared challenge. A few minutes passed before each one decayed; a golden light erupting from their chests.
Horrific. A perfect crime. A requiem provided, erasing the evidence. Several Lords and Ladies of the court yelled and screamed, demanding to go home before the same fate b
efell them. A frantic mob swarmed, and everyone darted for the front of the palace, eager to escape the doom they thought hung in the air.
Men and women pushed against me, and I barely managed to press Zahra up against the stone wall to keep her from being trampled.
“Zahra,” I pulled away, looking into her face. “You will be all right… stay here. Find Emperor Masters—”
“Apollo, don’t leave.” Zahra grabbed my arms. Her voice shook, and her eyes were wide.
“Trust me, please? I’ll find Nora, and we can hurry back to Winsdale.” I bit my cheek trying to suppress the words that wanted to burst forth. I knew who killed those men. I wanted to tell her the danger was all passed, but, it would be useless.
“A-all right,” Zahra stammered, rubbing her arms as if a sudden chill had overtaken the atmosphere.
“I promise, you will be fine. I will be back as soon as I find Nora, and we will all leave.” I turned my heel and darted through the garden, edging into the court. I ran through the hall, skidding to a stop. Blood dripped from the walls.
The Talismen will fall.
“It’s all done, Apollo.” I spun to face Barak. “Get the women out of here,” he muttered, smoothing out his hair. There was a single cut on his hand, one he covered with his leather gloves. “And clean that blood from your cheek.”
I recoiled inside, pulling a handkerchief and wiping the gore from my face. “Why Gustav?”
“Some people do not deserve to live.” Barak frowned, raising his brow.
My heart surged and my stomach turned inside out.
“You have done the same before, Apollo. Why do you look unsettled?” Barak asked, cocking his head to the side as if he could analyze my disheveled nerves.
I didn’t know why I was affected by this. I had killed people out of spite before… revenge… and a few for amusement. “Where’s Nora?”
“In the room farthest to the wall on the left. She would not leave me be, so I might have aided her in dropping into sleep,” he muttered. A grin threatened to appear on his face for a second, vanishing with the furrowing of his brows. “Remember—” Barak leaned forward, his eyes tracing my features, “to fall in love? It is not exactly encouraged back at the base. Fraternizing with your mission?” He sucked in an unsteady breath, “It is punishable. Keep your head down, Apollo, lest Jensen finds out.”
