Down Falls The Queen: A Splitting Worlds Novella (The Splitting Worlds Series)

by Katherine D. Graham

  “The looks are under warranty too,” she laughs.

  A single nod from Aya sets us all in motion. Dorathea drops the barrier, collapses to the ground, and convulses as though having a seizure. Tengu soldiers swoop from the sky at Kazuho’s command. My wings lift me from the ground while Aya takes a step back, hands raised.

  We often sparred together while the twins were growing up. Becoming the weapons tutor for the heirs to the Demon and Angel thrones was an honor bestowed upon me by my father, but learning to like them came as naturally to me as fighting came to them.

  Zooming ahead of him, I draw the Harpy’s attention away from the other Tengu surrounding her while Aya moves behind me, the sizzling snap of magical flame in his hands growing louder even amid the crowd.

  The scent of purified oxygen mixed with fresh rainwater alerts me to the flame and lightning aimed straight for my back. Cutting to the side at the last second, the twin streams of magic smash the Harpy directly in the face and chest. Unlike mortals, who would have turned to ash on the spot, the Harpy combusts. The patchwork skin melts from her face, revealing a single pearl embedded in her skull right between her eyes.

  Not giving her time to dissolve into sludge or smoke, a smooth, cold shuriken flies from my fingers, striking the pearl and shattering it. The magic vanishes, and a quick sweep with my sword leaves the Harpy’s head tumbling across the ground.

  A shrill scream and gust of wind announces the death of the wretched woman. I wipe my sword clean before returning it to its sheath, A long sigh escapes me unbidden as I survey the damage left behind by boiling, black, supernatural ooze. Hand-woven tatami floors lay in ruins. Dead grass and flowers would likely be tainted for at least a century.

  But we’re alive.

  “Now that that’s finished,” Aya announces, wiping his hands as he comes to stand by my side, “we should get going. Natius is probably wondering where we are.”

  I know I should agree with him, but my eyes fly back to Mother, who is still holding an unnervingly still Riara. Dorathea, looking young and unaffected by all that just transpired, is standing with them, shaking her head.

  “Where is Natius?” I whisper, removing my mask and returning it to my pocket.

  When my soldiers see my mask come off, their shoulders relax at the confirmation that their leader sees no further danger. They set about piling the Harpy’s remains into a heap to burn. Aya shrugs, his eyes narrowing at my question.

  “Who cares? We handled it just fine on our own.”

  “You know that is not why I asked,” I scold him, trying to keep my voice low enough to not be overheard. “If there is trouble, Natius is always in the thick of it, causing it or stopping it.”

  Aya’s eyes flash, his jaw clenching.

  “I don’t need him stopping it. He can’t always stop it,” Aya seethes.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mother pass Riara off to Kazuho. He carries her back toward the castle. Dorathea walks toward Aya and me.

  “Rei-hime!” Mirada beckons me to join her by the Harpy’s head—the only untouched piece of the despicable creature.

  Joining my Second, I notice the Harpy’s mouth still moving, eyes fixing on me.

  “It all must burn,” I say aloud, but inside I’m not so sure.

  Why is she still alive? A Harpy’s Pearl keeps them alive, and hers is only dust…

  “The gods send a message,” Dorathea announces calmly, tucking her hands in her pockets.

  I’m thankful for the distraction so I don’t have to watch Mirada move the creature’s head or start the blaze to destroy the still obviously living creature of darkness. A pang of guilt slices into my heart at the thought of the Harpy being burned alive.

  The gods know best. They have reasons for their laws. I can’t be shaken now—I’m too close.

  My stomach growls very inopportunely, and my face flushes with embarrassment.

  “Still fasting after all that?” Aya gapes at me. I ignore him.

  “What’s the message?” I ask as professionally as I can while my belly gurgles in complaint.

  “Dorathea saw many visions,” the Oracle says, and I brace myself for more riddles. “Ruin awaits the Tengu throne. The eldest will sit upon it, bathed in blood. She will take a crown, but not be Queen.”

  The bluntness of the message, as opposed to the previous cryptic riddles, surprises me almost as much as the message itself terrifies me. There is no contemplating needed this time. Unless there’s another set of Royal Tengu hiding siblings away somewhere, Riara is the eldest that Dorathea is talking about.

  It’s only when Aya reaches for my hand that I realize I’m shivering. I quickly clutch my hands together behind my back and stand at a warrior’s attention. The routine posture helps clear my mind, but the hurt that runs across Aya’s face muddies it seconds later.

  When is he going to learn a Tengu rarely even displays affection privately? He doesn’t have a chance in public.

  “What is wrong with Riara?” I ask Dorathea. “Why is she unconscious?”

  “The Harpy connected her consciousness to the eldest,” Dorathea explains, “with the smoke. When the Harpy is dead, your sister’s soul will be released.”

  Turning, I watch the flames overtaking the Harpy’s body. The wretch’s screaming fills the air, wracking my spirit and causing all Tengu who hear it to shudder. Aya and Dorathea stand unphased.

  “Rei,” Aya whispers, grabbing my arm and leading me a few steps from the Oracle, “I know there is a lot going on here, but we need you. I need you. We have to find that Hybrid Queen and see if she’ll let the other Demons stay in the Human World. Preferably before Natius goes and invites those monsters down here to finish wiping the Angels out.”

  “Okay, Aya,” I whisper. “We’ll just stay long enough to make sure nothing goes wrong with the burning. Then we’ll leave.”

  I feel Dorathea’s gaze on me, though, and can’t help but feel dread.

  Ruin awaits the Tengu throne… What did she mean?

  Chapter Six

  Priests have returned to the temple for their daily duties by the time I arrive to cleanse myself and pray. My ceremony week requires a prayer before each departure and upon each return, to stay within the gods’ favor. With the Harpy’s body now ashes to be carried off in the wind and Mother tending to a still-sleeping Riara, I know that only my blatant refusal to set out unblessed bought me any more time from Aya.

  It’s not like we could have left anyway. Natius is nowhere to be seen.

  Kneeling this time before the gods’ golden statue, I try to let go of the sorrow, the uncertainty, and the outright fear plaguing me so that I can go render justice in a clear frame of mind. It’s hard to imagine that only a few short hours ago my family was all alive and well. All had been right with the world, my path to becoming the Ascended all but assured.

  Now, Father is dead and Riara lies sleeping even after the Harpy’s body was burned. The gods sent Dorathea with a dark message that I can only accept as truth.

  If I try to change it, the gods will view it as defiance. I can’t recover from a fall like that, I argue with myself even as I try to clear my mind, but if I do nothing, and allow ruin to befall my people and my own sister, am I even worthy to become the Ascended?

  Aya’s impatient whistling of an old childhood tune breaks my concentration, and I push myself to my feet with a frustrated sigh. I toss my money into the box and pray for guidance before hurrying out through the gate to meet Aya. Mirada greets me at the gate and follows me out in silence, along with five of her best soldiers. Kazuho is remaining here to guard Riara and Mother with the rest of our soldiers. Dorathea has informed us that she is staying for the foreseeable future, as well—that the gods will send for her when her task is done.

  “Where is Natius?” I ask.

  “Probably got sick of waiting,” Aya grumbles, kicking at the dirt with the toe of his boot. “You know he’s more impatient than I am.”

  I let the complai
nt fly by as though unheard.

  I’m doing you a favor, I want to remind him.

  “Okay then,” I sigh instead, motioning for Aya to lead on, “take us to this Hybrid.”

  Aya is practically beaming as he bounces with excitement and then hops into the sky, obviously enamored with the use of wings for the first time in his life. I can’t help but smile at his joy, despite the fact that so many soldiers are with us, too. After living all this time with the Angels while he and Natius alone were wingless Vampires, I can only imagine how invigorating it must be to fly.

  I spread my own wings and am about to take off, when Mirada shoves me to the side just in time to avoid being crashed into by someone plummeting out of the sky in a blur of white feathers and blood. The heap of tangled white-blonde hair and blood-splattered plumage poofs up around us. Half our soldiers take wing, while the others run to my side on foot.

  “Aya?!” I gasp, pulling myself from Mirada’s arms to turn the Angel over.

  Glazed-over eyes stare back at me, but they’re not Aya’s. This young man is a century younger than Aya, barely a man in Angel years. Rough-hewn black arrows that look more like random sticks covered in black paint protrude from the Angel’s back.

  “Leon!” Aya lands beside me and takes the young man’s head in his arms.

  The Angel’s face is washed free of all warmth, and his lips are blue. A quick touch at his wrist confirms my fear.

  “He’s dead,” I whisper, wishing that I was better at consoling as tears pour from my best friend’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Aya.”

  “Rei-hime! Look!” One of the soldiers points to the sky, where two of my men are supporting an Angel with a hobbling wing on her descent.

  It’s a miracle she could fly at all with that wing!

  “Here!” I shout, motioning for them to land by me.

  The first thing I notice about this Angel is the similar arrows puncturing her chest. The second, though, is a thick, burnt symbol on her injured wing. I recoil, pulling the other Tengu with me.

  “A Demon curse?!” I spit the words from my mouth in horror. “Here?! In the Between?”

  Aya, though, doesn’t seem to care about the curse as he kneels by the fallen Angel’s side and grips her hand.

  “Demons,” the Angel gargles through the blood in her throat. “Refuge… send… help.”

  “Aila, who did this to you?” Aya whispers, and though I sense his attempt at strength, his voice cracks.

  “Demons cannot enter the Between,” Mirada says. “You must be mistaken.”

  The realization I had with the Harpy comes rushing back to me now.

  The gateways my father protected… the Harpy made it through first, and now Demons.

  “No, she’s right,” I whisper, but they don’t seem to hear me.

  “Who did this to you?” Aya asks again, pressing his forehead against his fallen companion’s.

  Through spluttering, wheezing breathes, a single word escapes her lips, “Natius.”

  Hearing his name on this Angel’s dying breath cracks something within me. Natius was the quieter, the gentler of the twins. He resented so much about his life, but who wouldn’t if they’d been children of the Demon King?

  The Natius I knew barely sparred with me without fearing injury on my behalf. He wouldn’t attack and kill his own people, his own family.

  “Impossible!” Aya starts. “No… no! That can’t be right!”

  I can’t bear to hear more. Slapping on my mask, I leap into the air and leave the dead Angels behind me. Mirada catches up with me after a few minutes, but our other soldiers are nowhere near as strong a flyer as I and will likely not be able to keep up. I know I should slow down and wait for them, but I can’t; I have to see for myself.

  The flight to the Angel Refuge is only a couple hours flying leisurely, an hour at top speed. That hour flies by. Smoke greets me before the Refuge comes into view—smoke tinted with green and black. In minutes, I’m overtop a grim battlefield on the border of the Lightning Fields, a muddy plateau covered in constant rain, which stands between the Refuge and a gate to the Human World.

  More demons than I can estimate fill the Plains as far as my eyes can see, from the gate to the edge of the fields where the outnumbered Angels are somehow just barely holding the line. The Angels fight with spells and familiars, but being otherwise weaponless, those in the Refuge are at a massive disadvantage.

  It’s only a matter of time before they’re overrun.

  My eyes skim the crowd for Natius. I don’t have to look long, though, because Aya dives past me from above, tackling someone off a horse down below. Without thinking, I dive into the horde after him. Demons accost me moments after I touch the ground. I dodge their crude weapons easily, cleaving limbs and detaching a few heads as I search for the brothers. It only takes a handful of dead Demons for the others to realize what I am—a Tengu warrior far beyond their crude capabilities. Backing down, the rest of the Demons in the area flee from me.

  Sparks and the smell of fire and rain draw me to a crowd of Demons clustering around something. Pushing my way through, I step into a clearing surrounded by a tight circle of Demons. Aya has Natius pinned on his back; the Angel’s flaming hand hovers inches above the Demon’s face. The sounds of battle have ceased, I realize, as both sides watch the brothers wrestle on the ground.

  There is no discourse exchanged between them while the brothers battle to take each other down. Grunts, shouts, scuffling, the thud of fists impacting with skin or magic sizzling from Aya’s hands are the only sounds that break through the silence. For a moment, Aya’s stronger Angelic magic seems to have him at an advantage.

  How is Natius withstanding all those flames and lightning bolts?

  Something about the fact that the Demon isn’t acting the slightest bit scathed nags at me, while at the same time I’m relieved to not see him fall. Dread builds within me as Natius’ skin shifts color from pale to bright red. His fingernails elongate and darken to black, his teeth shift into jagged fangs much larger than a Vampire’s. A dangerous power swells up within him so strong, he practically radiates a red glow.

  “Stop!” My command reverberates throughout the battlefield like thunder, halting both brothers in their tracks and turning the entire Demon horde’s attention on me.

  Grabbing Aya and Nate each by the collars of their shirts, I jerk them away to stand on either side of me. Seeing them standing beside me, once so alike, but now so different, reminds me of the old man and oni from last night’s judgement.

  A judgement I thought would be my last.

  “You have called me—the Hand of Justice—to judge your causes and stop your war,” I remind them. “Release me from your request, if you no longer desire my mediation.”

  Growls, roars of fury, and hissing from the Demons rise up around me, clamoring for me to leave. They cannot finish slaughtering their Angel targets with me present. As if to add to that point, Mirada whistles from above. I raise my eyes to see the majority of the Tengu army, thousands of winged, ancient warriors, now hovering in the sky above us. Our sheer number would overtake the strongest Demonic fighter’s prowess.

  “Send the Demons back through the gate!” Aya orders angrily, gesturing in the direction of the gate. “Back to the Human World they call home!”

  “Send them back to die?” Natius’ deep voice is calmer than his brother’s but is tinged with deadly intent. “You may not like it, Ayangelo, but you and I… we’re not Angels! We can never be Angels! We’ll always have Demon blood, no matter what spell the wizard gives you to seal its power away!”

  A wizard… sealed their blood? Why? Wizards sealing away a bloodline’s inherited powers is commonplace, more so in the Human World where half-breeds want to live Human lives, but the heirs to the Angel and Demon thrones seeking out a wizard isn’t something I’ve ever heard either brother mention before.

  “We both have a throne to fill, Ayangelo,” Natius replies simply. “Take your people and return to
yours. Rei—”

  Natius turns to me, his skin slowly losing its red hue and returning to its normal pale color. “With your permission, Rei… hime… I am now King in my father’s stead. My people cannot return to the Human World, not after the war their previous King waged against the Humans. I ask only for the same refuge your parents promised. Give us a place in the Between, and in return, we will serve you if called.”

  Closing my eyes, I reach within myself as I’ve done a million times, shutting out the new round of bickering that breaks out between Aya and Natius as they argue about the genuineness of Natius’ promise. I search for the truth in their intentions. The truth of their hearts. I let my own aura stretch out from myself in the darkness of my mind and intertwine with theirs, measuring their roiling anger, impatience, bitterness, and sorrow on invisible scales. As if painting with an invisible brush in my mind, I watch as the auras of both brothers assemble in unclouded views of both men’s souls.

  The results astound me, and I shake my head, not able to believe what I’m seeing. Aya’s soul is unreliable, twisting in on itself and swayed by the winds as though ungrounded. His anger, bitterness, and loneliness have grown into the arrogant front I’ve always seen through, but the heart that was once so loving and kind is now only self-righteous and prejudiced. The hate seething from the Angel’s aura is stifling. Tears sting my eyes even with my eyelids closed.

  I’ve always been fond of Aya… if only I’d know sooner, maybe I could have helped him open up.

  I want to slap myself for never reaching out to his aura before. It isn’t permitted, nor polite, to intermingle within the soul of another. Father, though, always pressed me for the intentions of my young Vampire friends.

  “There are no friends among other races, Rei-san,” he would tell me, with a disappointed shake of his head. “Every step you can climb regarding others places you on more advantageous ground.”

  Did my respect for Aya and Natius put us all at risk of a war?

  Opening my eyes, it is Aya I address first.