The Dawn of the End

by Kristen Ashley

  The male glowered at me, and I assumed, quite rightly in my mind, that meant my point was taken.

  “And I was amongst my people on the surface,” I went on. “Or have you forsaken us as it’s clear you feel I have forsaken you?”

  He had no answer to that either.

  I decided not to pursue that line of questioning any longer, for something vastly more important took precedence.

  “Why does my husband sleep?” I demanded.

  “He was struggling. If his guards lost hold on him, he would die. Necessity urged he lose consciousness. Thus…” he trailed off on a shrug and an indication with a tip of his head to Aramus.

  “When will he wake?” I asked.

  The male shrugged. “He will be fine.”

  With some difficulty (it must be said, my husband was bulky), I pulled Aramus’s torso up and held him to me as I kept my gaze pinned on the mermale.

  “Why did you send the tidal?”

  “You were coming to us, were you not?” he asked.

  I did not request to know how he knew this.

  “I was,” I amended. “My husband was not.”

  “But I wished to speak to the king of the sea.”

  “Well, you can’t speak to him if he’s unconscious,” I pointed out.

  “Settle, maid,” he rumbled. “You are amongst your own here.”

  “I thought he was dead,” I spat, hearing my husband breathe steadily, feeling the warmth return to his skin now that he was no longer in the chill of the sea, neither of these wiping away the fear and misery of the last ten minutes.

  “Did you think to come and demand an audience, and aid in correcting the ruin you made of the surface, at your whim?” he asked.

  Belatedly, important things were dawning on me.

  Starting with the fact he knew much that I did not understand how he knew.

  But onward from that, and the priority in the moment, something else.

  Thus, I adjusted my tone when I noted, “I see you’re angry with me.”

  “You?” he returned. “No. Him?” He jerked his trident toward my husband. “Yes.”

  Oh no.

  I held Aramus closer.

  “He knows I am Mer, and he accepts this,” I shared.

  “Bully for him,” he clipped.

  Hmm.

  I decided to begin again.

  “You know I am Ha-Lah, Queen of Mar-el. But I do not know you.”

  “I am Jorie, King of the Mer.”

  Well, it was advantageous to know I’d been directed right to the top.

  Except if the one at the top wasn’t terribly thrilled to see you.

  “There is much happening on the surface,” I shared.

  “There is always much happening there.”

  “It may be the end of Triton.”

  “And this concerns us how?” he demanded.

  This was not going well.

  “We have reason to believe the Beast wakes,” I informed him. “My husband feels—”

  “Oh, he wakes. And he will make the surface,” Jorie confirmed. Finishing ominously, “Soon.”

  I had no response to that, partially because Jorie seemed so unconcerned, but I, on the other hand, was very much the opposite.

  He explained this presently.

  “We took care of this the last time for the humans of Triton, and where did it get us?”

  I knew very well where it got my people.

  At first, I had no response to this either.

  And then I asked, “If you are so angry, if you wish to remain detached, if you do not wish to come to the aid of Triton, then why do you want to speak to my husband? Why did you pull him and I under? Why are we here?”

  He scowled at me.

  He did this for quite some time.

  And then he said words that seemed dragged from him.

  But they were words that gave me hope.

  “I wish to meet my sister.”

  116

  The Dawn of the End

  King True

  One Hundred Miles over the Border

  AIREN

  “Sire, a bird,” a corporal said, handing True the ribbon of parchment.

  True nodded to him as the soldier saluted and then walked away.

  True unrolled the ribbon, and by the still-moonlit, pre-dawn sky, he read the message from one of his scouts.

  12,000. Base of Heights. Blocked in. Riders unable to get through. Ravens down. Enemy preparing to attack.

  “Bram!” True shouted, crumbling the missive in a fist and marching in the direction where he’d seen his friend disappear some minutes before. “Bram!” he repeated, men he passed looking to him, some breaking from huddles, he knew, to find Bram for True.

  Thus, in half a minute, he saw Bram jogging his way.

  “The men need to prepare to ride, now,” True ordered. “We’re going to the Heights, not the Bay, and we need to make haste. Find Wally and Luther. They escort Farah back to Notting Thicket.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Bram asked.

  “Twelve thousand of the allied gentry militia surround Cassius and Elena at the base of the Heights. We lost riders trying to get them warning. They’re shooting down ravens that would do the same. They’re blocked in and the enemy is poised to attack.”

  “Fuck,” Bram bit, turned and started to sprint way, when True stopped him.

  “Bird to Alfie. I want reinforcements from Wodell. A regiment to bolster the Bay, a regiment making haste, following us. Also, a bird to Mars. He must send his men in from the south. And get messages to Aramus and the Citadel. They need to know if they don’t already.”

  Bram nodded shortly and resumed his sprint.

  True turned on his boot and strode to his tent.

  By the time he arrived, he saw it had been struck, and Farah, dressed and cloaked, ready to ride, was standing by her mount, Regina, stroking her neck, talking to Helga.

  He went direct to her, but she noted him before his arrival, and he noted she did not miss the expression on his face.

  “Caro,” she whispered. “What more could have happened?”

  They had lost Ophelia to the veil in the night.

  Now he was too far away to make certain they would not lose Elena and Cassius in the day.

  And this knowledge that his friends were in danger and he was too far away to help was eating him from the inside.

  “We’ve had a message. If the war has not already begun, it will soon. You need to return to the Thicket,” he told her.

  She dropped her hands from her horse and turned to fully face him.

  “True,” she said softly.

  “You will make haste. Wallace and Luther will be your guard.”

  “I go with you.”

  For a moment, he was thrown.

  “You can’t ride into battle with me, Farah.”

  “I can’t leave you,” she returned.

  “You don’t know of what you speak,” he shot back. “Airen is now dangerous. We ride intent to engage and thus now are officially the enemy. We are too far away from the Bay to get you to Cassius’s stronghold safely, and regardless, that detour would take time we do not have. Thus, I need you home immediately.”

  “I cannot leave you.”

  “Farah, you cannot go,” he clipped.

  “I can be of help. My magic—”

  “You can barely control your magic,” he gritted, his legendary patience waning.

  For reason.

  He needed her on her horse.

  He needed to know she was headed to safety.

  And he needed to get to their friends.

  She looked to Helga and something passed between them he would find in Farah’s next words that he did not like.

  For she lifted her chin, straightened her spine and decreed, “I ride with my husband.”

  “I will never, not ever, order you to do something, or forbid you from doing something,” he retorted. “Except in times like this.”

&
nbsp; “I ride with my husband,” she repeated.

  “Gods dammit, Farah,” he bit.

  “I ride,” she lifted her hands and swept them to her side, and with them up came the fallen leaves all around. They formed a funnel about them with a wind that whipped her cloak, his mantle, and both their hair. This, before she finished, “With my husband!”

  For the first time in their marriage…

  Nay.

  For the first time of their acquaintance, True Axelsson, King of Wodell, and Farah Magos Axelsson, Queen of Wodell, stood staring at each other, locked in a battle of wills.

  “True!” a voice could be heard through the wind and angry rustling of leaves that swirled about he and his wife’s bodies. It was Wallace. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “This is the dawn of the end, mia vita,” she said. “And whatever shape that end takes, I will face it at your side.”

  True frowned at her.

  Then he said, “Gods dammit,” before he yelled, “We ride!”

  The leaves about them instantly stopped swirling.

  And they floated to the ground.

  King Mars

  On the Journey to the Great Wohd

  WODELL

  “Not good,” Basil grunted, handing Mars a ribbon from a raven.

  Mars unwound it and read in Firenzii,

  Ambush planned. Night Heights. 12,000. They’re clearing skies. No way in for scouts. Orders?

  Mars let the ribbon fall to the ground and looked to Basil.

  “Send a raven to the Airenzian border. They ride. Another to Lorenz, I want Firenz warriors guarding The Enchantments. Tell him to send more to the Bay. Another raven to Aramus. He must engage. Find Kyril. He will take some men and escort my queen back to the palace.”

  Basil nodded and asked, “Ride or ship?”

  “I cannot control the passage of a ship, but I can control the hooves of Hephaestus.”

  Basil appeared relieved.

  Not a surprise. Firenz were not seamen.

  Not a one of them, including Mars, had been looking forward to the journey up the Wohd to the Bay.

  “Go,” Mars commanded, turned on his boot and moved to the tent where his wife was dressing.

  When he slapped aside the flaps and entered, he saw her sitting a stool, Tril dressing her hair.

  “May I have a moment with my wife, Tril?” he requested.

  The maid took in his face, bobbed a curtsy, touched her queen’s shoulder and scuttled out.

  Silence slowly rose, her gaze riveted to him, and when she had her feet, she asked, “Oh no, my love, what new is amiss?”

  “The war begins in Airen. In earnest. I am certain Cassius knows this could happen at any time. I am not certain he knows it is going to happen imminently. My scouts have seen the traitors preparing for an ambush, but there is no way to get word to Cass to warn him, and they’re clearing birds from the sky in his direction. He’s outnumbered. Significantly.”

  “Oh no,” she said again, this time in a whisper.

  “I have but scouts in that land, no help to him and he needs reinforcements. I ride to him. You ride back to Fire City.”

  Her head twitched as if this idea confused her.

  “I must go with you,” she declared.

  Had she gone mad?

  “Silence, I ride to war. You will not be going with me.”

  “But, I must,” she returned.

  “This is not the Beast, my queen. There is naught you can do but be in danger. We are declaring our intentions, meaning our allegiance. When we set foot on Airen soil, for some there, we are the enemy.”

  “I can’t leave you.”

  He loved her very much, thus he loved she did not think she could leave his side.

  But in this instance, that was not happening.

  “I adore you, and as I do, I will have you safe,” he told her.

  “And I adore you, and as I do, I will have you safe,” she told him.

  His patience was waning.

  Quickly.

  “I will not belittle your work with your dagger, with Kyril, the strength of your will, the intelligence of your mind, but Silence, this is war.”

  “And I will ride with you.”

  “You will be naught but a blight on my mind.”

  It was not the right thing to say, but it was true.

  She did not get angry at his words.

  She remained true to her theme.

  “I cannot leave you.”

  “You will not be going with me.”

  “I will not leave you.”

  “Why?” he bit.

  “I do not know, but I cannot, Mars. I just simply cannot,” she returned.

  “This is wasting time we do not have,” he ground out. “Cass and Elena are in danger and we’re bloody weeks away.”

  “Then we should ride. Immediately.”

  “We will. Me northeast, and you south.”

  “Mars, I—”

  “This conversation is over.”

  “Mars! I—”

  He was done.

  “This conversation is over!” he roared.

  “It is not!” she thundered back, lifting both fists over her head and thrusting them forward, her hands opening, and from them fired two balls of flame that made him duck, even if they sailed well over his head and would not have hit him.

  They dissipated before they struck the wall of the tent, as if she had willed their vanishing before they caused destruction.

  Mars straightened slowly, all the while gazing at his wife in disbelief.

  But she was gazing where the flames had disappeared and doing it in wonder.

  Before he could say another word, her attention jumped to him.

  “I ride with you,” she decreed. And then she bustled to her trunk, yelling, “Tril! I need a saddlebag, my warmest cloak and a sturdy gown! And my dagger!”

  Tril hurried in.

  Mars drew a breath into his nose, turned and strode out of the tent, nearly slamming into Kyril upon exiting it.

  “Does the queen prepare to leave?” Kyril asked.

  “Yes,” Mars answered. “And she rides with me.”

  Prince Cassius

  Night Heights Mountain Range

  AIREN

  Cassius sat astride Caelus, Elena to his right side, sitting her mount, Diana.

  Caelus shifted restlessly under him.

  Diana stood solid as stone.

  He, and his princess, stared down into the trees.

  “I am sorry so soon after—” he began.

  “It is clever, attacking when they think we hunker down in mourning.”

  He turned his head and studied her beautiful profile.

  That was, he did this until she faced him.

  It was then he studied her beautiful face.

  He saw the sadness in her eyes.

  And the determination.

  And last, that something he treasured so very much.

  “What was your card this morning?” he asked quietly.

  She scrunched her nose, and by the gods, he started smiling at the sight.

  “The mermaid,” she answered.

  He stopped smiling as he was now perplexed.

  “What does that mean?” he inquired.

  “Storms, in life or from the sky. Magic afoot.” She paused then finished, “Revenge. In other words, nothing useful.”

  “Revenge? Fern’s army?” he asked.

  She shook her head but said, “Perhaps. Or perhaps its literal and somehow the Mer will alight from where they’ve hidden for centuries and swim to our aid.”

  “In a mountain range?” he asked drily.

  She shrugged.

  He grinned at her.

  She grinned back.

  Mac rode up to his left side and asked, “Are you two going to flirt until dawn? Or are we going to ride down this mountain so I can gut something?”

  Jazz rode up to Mac’s left side and concurred with, “Yes. What he said.”
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br />   Cassius turned his head when he sensed movement at Elena’s other side, and he saw her sister line up there, Hera beyond her, Rosehana beyond Hera.

  Serena did not appear in a joking mood.

  She was gazing down the mountain with sheer focus.

  It would be good to finally fight alongside that formidable warrior, instead of against her.

  He looked behind him to see Nero and Tone at his back.

  Behind them, Airenzian and Nadirii, all mounted, all ready to seek their fates on the battlefield.

  Nero jerked up his chin.

  Cassius dipped his.

  He then looked again to his princess.

  She was watching him.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  She nodded, and as if to assert this, she hunkered over Diana’s neck, her eyes straight ahead, her heels lifting, ready to dig into her steed’s sides.

  Serena, Hera and Rosehana assumed this position.

  Cass looked left and saw Mac and Jasmine the same.

  So he bent over Caelus, thrust his forearm into the bands at the back of his shield hanging at his side and lifted his heels.

  But he turned his head one more time.

  “Elena.”

  She looked to him.

  “I love you,” he said.

  He caught only the shock and warmth suffusing her exquisite features before he dug his heels into his mount and shot forward.

  And as the hundreds of Nadirii and Airenzian horses with their riders were tearing through the pines…

  None of them felt the earth shuddering violently beneath them from something else altogether.

  The prophecy was now complete.

  Love was sealed.

  It was the dawn of the end.

  However that would be.

  But the warriors could not miss it when the heavens opened.

  And poured down rain.

  117

  The Surfacing

  Tedrey

  Ancient Ritual Ground

  WODELL

  Tedrey was tied to a tree, his face averted, his hands busy, his ears feeling like they were bleeding, his eyes behind closed lids feeling like they were scalding.

  There was a huddle of women close beside him, gagged, but not blindfolded, tied together, fretting, moaning, but they’d learned in difficult ways not to struggle or try to escape.