Wardens of Archos

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Wardens of Archos Page 11

by Sarina Langer


  The remaining hours on the ship had been torture, but they couldn’t have done anything to speed up the journey. Now that they were back in the White City, Rachael wasn’t wasting any time. This was her fault. Cale was dying because she had asked him to stay behind and investigate.

  “Can I help you?”

  Kiana paid no attention to the man at the front desk of the infirmary, and walked straight past him.

  He shot up. “Excuse me, you can't—” He saw Rachael, and sat back down. “I'm sorry, your Highness. Please, go ahead.”

  By the time he finished speaking, Rachael was already past him.

  Kiana pushed open the door to the emergency wing. Rachael followed her. Healer Thea, dressed in a healer’s white coat, stood aside to make room.

  “What happened?” Rachael had seen Cale injured before, but no visible wound marked his skin. Healer Thea had removed his shirt—Rachael assumed to allow Cale to breathe—but a thick sheen of sweat covered his chest and forehead regardless. His breathing came in short, laboured bursts.

  “He’s wheezing.” Kiana put her ear next to his lips.

  “We’re not sure, your highness,” said healer Thea. “Lon brought him to me, but he had already passed out when Lon found him.”

  “And he hasn’t woken up since?” asked Kiana.

  “No. We’ve searched his body but haven’t found any wounds. He was poisoned, but we’re missing details.”

  “Who did this?” Kiana's voice was calm, but the definite thunder of threat loomed behind it.

  “We don’t know.”

  “Maker be—How could this happen? He’s the best one of us!”

  “This is my fault.” Rachael placed one hand on his forehead. He was boiling up. She took Cale's hand in hers, shocked how cold and clammy they were in comparison. “I knew there were assassins here. I asked him to stay to investigate. If he’d come with us, he—”

  The last few weeks seemed like a colossal waste to Rachael now. Why had they even fought?

  “You couldn’t know,” said Kiana. “Whoever is responsible is still here, in your palace. In the Sparrows’ home. I will find who did this, I swear it.” Her knuckles were white around her knife’s hilt.

  “We need a plan,” said Rachael. “Don’t you think they’ll be expecting retaliation? They’ve poisoned Cale! Leader of the Sparrows! They know we’re coming for them.”

  Kiana frowned, but let go of her knife. “Fine. You’re right. We need a plan, before more of us suffer.” Kiana turned to healer Thea. “Do we have any clues at all?”

  “I’ve been able to extract a small dose of the poison, but there was an antidote mixed in as well. He expected trouble.”

  Rachael swallowed. “And it’s still affecting him this much?”

  “The antidote is the only reason he’s alive,” said healer Thea.

  Rachael looked at Cale. His hair had grown longer over the last few weeks and was plastered to his forehead, wet with sweat. His breathing hadn't improved since they’d entered. Maybe he couldn’t even hear them. “But he will live?”

  “He’s strong, my queen. I’ve done what I can. It’s up to him now.”

  Rachael squeezed his hand. “You can’t die. Don't you dare.” Her eyes burnt.

  Kiana put a hand on her shoulder. “Come on. We need to get the others together, discuss our next steps. We won’t let this stand, Rachael. You have my word.”

  Rachael nodded. “Send for Sparrows, and some of Commander Dryden’s men. I don’t want him left alone.”

  There was so much left unsaid between them. So much regret. If he died now, he’d never know how much she cared.

  The first time Rachael met the Sparrows, they had been lively and chatting away; a small but close family looking out for one another. Now their faces were dark, the atmosphere in their new headquarters sombre. The Sparrows were one family. Their leader had been poisoned, and the effects rippled through the entire group. They took it personally. Even the newest recruits looked like they’d been punched in the gut. So little time had passed, but already Cale had made them feel welcome.

  Rachael swallowed. He’d made her feel welcome, too, months ago; it had just taken her longer to embrace it.

  “You all know why we’re here.” Rachael's legs and hands were trembling. Addressing a large crowd didn’t come naturally to her. Neither did leading. It made her head spin that she needed to do both right now. Somehow, this was worse than her coronation speech. “There are assassins in this palace, and Cale was poisoned. I won’t let this stand. Whoever is responsible won’t get away with this. You have my promise.”

  The Sparrows hung their heads, and some nodded. Their numbers had taken huge cuts during the attack on their hideout and the battle for the city. Cale had recruited anyone willing to fight for her and their family afterward, so Rachael didn’t recognise most of the faces.

  She regretted not having spent more time with them before the late King Aeric had made his move. At the time, it had seemed like the right thing to do. Cale hadn’t wanted her to be a target, and there had always been something more important that had needed her attention. Ailis had tried to teach her how to control her magic, and Cale had tried to teach her how to use a sword. Most of those Sparrows were dead now, a curse had caused Ailis to commit suicide, and Cale was dying.

  What did that leave her with? The Sparrows were her private army. She hated that she didn’t recognise the few eyes meeting hers. She didn’t want to feel nervous or awkward talking to them. She wanted them to be her family, too.

  So many things had gone wrong since Rachael had agreed to take the crown. She needed to make sure something finally went right. Talking to them like a Sparrow rather than their queen would be a good start once she’d learned how to blend in.

  “I will stay for a moment. If you've seen or heard anything, please tell me.”

  The crowd dispersed and the Sparrows went their own ways, leaving a joyless silence in their wake. Rachael wondered if they would ever reach that same sense of familiarity around each other that had given the old hideout its energy.

  What would happen if she couldn't save Cale? He’d founded the Sparrows. He was the one who held them together, who led them into battles, and who trained with them every day. Would they fall apart without him?

  The last of the Sparrows, dead with him.

  Her eyes burnt and she shivered. Rachael hugged herself tighter when the image refused to leave her mind. Every poison had an antidote. They just needed to find it.

  “How are you holding up?” Lon asked and sat next to her. He looked exhausted; a bit of mud was caked to his neck and his face.

  All the Sparrows looked dirty and tired. A small sliver of a smile forced itself on to her lips. They had all come straight here after Lon had found Cale. None of them had gone home to wash off the day’s filth. All of them had awaited news. They were a new family, but they cared all the same.

  It was the bit of hope she needed.

  “I want to find out who did this.”

  “I know. I have a lead for you.”

  Rachael shot up. “You know who poisoned him?”

  “Not exactly. But I know where he went before I found him. He left our training session early to find the healer. He wanted to keep it quiet, but he told me he needed a potent antidote. So, I asked him why. He thought he knew who was behind the assassination attempts, but he needed proof.” Lon leaned in so only she could hear him whisper. “He believes Arnost Lis to be responsible. He expected to be poisoned. If we can identify the poison and find the same kind in the ambassador’s chambers, it’d be all the proof we need to arrest him.”

  Rachael gulped, dizzy. “I’ve met him briefly. I was uncomfortable talking to him.”

  “Everyone is. Cale suspected him, but we couldn’t arrest him without proof. He’s a guest in your palace, here to celebrate your coronation. If we arrest someone innocent suspecting them of sending assassins after you, it would forever taint your ascension to royalty. It
’s not the beginning to your reign you want.”

  Rachael nodded, but thought of Cale lying on the bed wheezing and covered in sweat. People were mistrusting of her already. She would have preferred to save Cale’s life.

  “But we can arrest him now. Cale went to see him, and was poisoned. Isn’t that enough proof?”

  Lon frowned. “All we know is Cale expected to be poisoned, paid a visit to the ambassador, and collapsed shortly after. Cale went alone. We have no way of knowing if something happened before or after he met with Arnost Lis. For all we know it's unrelated.”

  Rachael’s head was spinning. It was clear enough to her, but she didn’t want to become the queen who made false arrests on impulse. The previous commander had arrested people on a whim, and had tortured them at his leisure. She didn’t want to make her people think she was like him.

  Still, she had to do something. People expected her to be strong and decisive. She had promised herself to be both.

  “Search his rooms.”

  “Rachael?”

  “We can’t arrest him without proof, but we can search his chambers. You said it yourself, Cale collapsed after seeing the ambassador. Is that enough reason to search his belongings?”

  Lon broke into a grin. “Yes, my queen!”

  “Take two of your best people. You know them better than I do.”

  “When this is over and Cale gets mad at both of us for being rash, we’ll have a party. You can get to know all of them then.”

  Rachael smiled. “I’d like that. I’ll be in my chambers. Report to me as soon as you find something.”

  “Yes, my queen!” Lon jumped up and dashed through the room in search of two Sparrows. His energy returned some of the old spirit to the room, and it spread like an infection. For a brief second it felt like the old Sparrows were back. Rachael allowed herself a moment to enjoy it before returning to her own rooms.

  One day she'd try to be one of them, not just in title but in spirit, too. Until then, she had work to do.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The oppressive silence in her room amplified Rachael’s doubts. Nearly two hours had passed since Rachael sent Lon to deal with the Tramuran ambassador, Oren and Reeve behind him. She’d hoped for news by now. The sooner they found the poison, the sooner they’d be able to create an antidote from it and heal Cale.

  The faster they found evidence, the sooner they’d be able to arrest Arnost Lis.

  Rachael knew she’d need to give him a fair trial, but if everything he stood accused of was true she was tempted to hang him. If he were guilty of sending assassins after her as well as poisoning Cale with the intention of killing him, he’d have a lot of angry Sparrows against him. Rachael wanted to open their cages and let them fly.

  She didn't know much about Tramura, but she was sure attempted regicide was a grave crime anywhere.

  Kiana had made herself comfortable on an armchair, where she was sharpening and admiring her daggers.

  “You should be with them,” said Rachael.

  Kiana held up one of her daggers, moved it between her fingers, and gave it a little twirl. The blade came close to her flesh several times, but Kiana was in no danger of cutting herself. She had a mastery over her weapons Rachael doubted anyone else possessed.

  “And who would protect you if Arnost Lis came here to question your actions, hm? I’m staying here.”

  Rachael shivered. The thought the ambassador might come here to demand answers had occurred to her. The possibility he might send an overwhelming number of assassins had occurred to her as well. If he did, no one would be able to protect her better than Kiana. Her knives would find their targets long before any assassin could set one foot into Rachael’s chambers, but how many could they stand against? Kiana could only fight off so many before someone slipped through, or got the better of her.

  Someone knocked on her door, and Rachael jumped. Kiana was on her feet within seconds, her daggers ready.

  “Come in,” said Rachael, and braced herself.

  One of her guards entered.

  “Your highness.” He clutched his arm to his chest and bowed. “You have a visitor. Would you like me to turn her away?”

  In his heavy armour the guard blocked her only exit, but Rachael could make out enough behind him to know who was there. Deep-brown hair. Dark eyes. She averted her gaze, her movements nervous.

  Erimentha Lis.

  There were so many warnings screaming in her mind. Erimentha could be an assassin. Her husband could have sent her to poison Rachael, too. She could be more than she seemed, and leap on her before even Kiana could move.

  Or she could have defied her husband, and was bringing information.

  “No, that’s all right.” Rachael hoped it was the right choice. “Send her in.”

  Erimentha reminded Rachael of a dog who had been kicked too often to still beg for treats. But even the most loyal dog bit the people who kicked it. Did this visit mean Erimentha was fighting back, standing up to a husband who would keep her leashed and muzzled? Rachael had seen her around the palace several times, but never without the ambassador. She suspected Erimentha wasn’t allowed out of his sight, yet here she was, alone. Had she escaped, or had she been sent?

  Next to her, Kiana tensed. She appeared calm, but Rachael had trained with her often enough to know Kiana's hand wasn't far from her knife.

  Erimentha stepped into the room, and bowed. Her movements were so fluid Rachael wondered if she was flying and her long dress concealed the movement. “I thank you for receiving me, your highness. I know my husband has lost your trust, but I hope to earn it.”

  “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

  Erimentha wouldn't meet her eyes. “I don’t mean for his sake, your highness. I’m pleading for mine.”

  How could Rachael respond to that? She needed time to think.

  “What brings you here, away from your husband? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you far from his side.”

  A small, defiant smile lit up her features. Erimentha was fighting back. “He doesn’t know I’m gone, your highness. Your Sparrows have asked us to vacate our rooms, and he’s sought an inn. I slipped out once the drink took its effect.”

  Kiana chuckled. “He’s out getting drunk?”

  Rachael didn't know how to respond. She’d expected him to cause a scene, to get angry and demand answers, not to seek the latter inside a bottle.

  Erimentha nodded. “He’s angry you have the audacity to search our chambers. When my husband gets mad, he drinks.” She frowned. “I can’t remember the last time he was this enraged.”

  “We have good reason to think he poisoned one of my Sparrows. It's hardly audacity.”

  “I agree.”

  Erimentha still avoided meeting her eyes. Rachael had hoped she'd become more daring as their conversation continued, but nothing had changed.

  “Look at me.” Rachael kept her voice soft and low, but Erimentha flinched regardless. “And please, call me Rachael. There’s no need for formality in the privacy of my chambers.” Erimentha hesitated. “You have nothing to be afraid of from me. Take your time.”

  Slowly, Erimentha raised her head until her eyes met Rachael’s. Rachael waited while Erimentha took in every feature of her face, and smiled. Erimentha reached out and cupped Rachael’s hands in hers. She was shaking. “Rachael.” Erimentha’s voice broke, and she pulled away like something had bitten her. “Forgive me, your high—Rachael. It’s not my place to sit so close to you.”

  “It’s all right, Erimentha. There’s no need to apologise.”

  “But I—” Erimentha paused. Her smile was tired and sad, but almost reached her eyes. Rachael dreaded to think how long it had been since she’d last heard a friendly word instead of an order. Rachael wanted to protect this woman who had defied her husband’s wishes just to speak with her. Erimentha looked so scared and fragile Rachael worried she might break if their fingers touched again.

  Erimentha looked away. Rach
ael didn't want to push her. “Your mother must be proud of you. You’ve come far, considering your beginnings.”

  Something in Erimentha's voice made it difficult to breathe, and Rachael choked. It was such a strange comment coming from a stranger. Would her parents have been proud of her? Rachael imagined not, since they had abandoned her and left her to die.

  “I never knew my parents, but I doubt they’d have felt pride. They left me to die in the streets.”

  Erimentha looked far away in that moment. Her eyes were averted, her shoulders slumped, but Rachael knew she’d hurt her.

  She wished she could take her words back. She hadn't meant to sound so harsh. “I apologise. What my parents did wasn’t your fault. I didn’t mean to sound cold.”

  Erimentha nodded, but didn't say anything. Rachael hoped she hadn't undone their progress.

  “You didn’t come here to discuss my childhood. What brings you here?”

  Erimentha’s eyes brimmed red, but a coy smile played on her lips. “You are kind. I only wanted to—I came to warn you. Your Sparrows are correct. My husband has sent assassins after you, and he poisoned Cale Spurling as well. Another assassin is meant to attack tonight, while you sleep. Be careful, Rachael.”

  “Why would you tell me this?” She hadn't expected a straight confession. If Erimentha was willing to testify, they could arrest Arnost Lis without needing to search for more evidence.

  “Because not all of us share my husband’s hatred for the gifted.”

  Rachael gasped when a beautiful blue flame appeared in Erimentha’s hand and danced across her open palm before disappearing again. “Some of us support you wholeheartedly.” Erimentha stood and walked toward the door. Rachael was too stunned to object. “Be on your guard, Rachael. My husband isn’t a man who shows mercy to those who best him.”

  Kiana waited until the door had shut behind Erimentha. “Do you believe her?”

  Rachael didn't know what to think. Erimentha was clearly scared of her husband. Was she brave enough to walk away from him, seek her out, and warn her about the assassin? Erimentha had tried to speak up against his wishes before, but saying something and acting on her beliefs were two different things. Rachael didn't doubt the defiance she’d seen in Erimentha was real, but was it enough for her to go against her husband’s orders to this extent?

 

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