The Dawn of the End (The Rising Book 3)

by Kristen Ashley

  Jell?

  The priest G’Thom, clearly the leader of The Rising, shook his head.

  “We have not heard from him for months. I do not know if he fled or if something befell him. But it is worse.”

  Tedrey noted that Fenn’s expression shared he did not think there could be much worse.

  However, what Thom said next proved there could.

  “All the men who do the blessed work at the Ritual Ground have disappeared,” Thom declared.

  “All of them?” Fenn asked.

  “All. They, with Jell, have vanished.”

  “But, not long ago, we felt a tremor,” Fenn said.

  “It has been shared with me by sorcerers it was not of the Beast,” Thom informed him.

  The Beast?

  The Beast?

  “So, the Beast has gone unstirred for months?” Fenn demanded. “Again?” he went on as if this was catastrophic.

  “Yes. And we’ve suffered a number of blows, my friend,” Thom stated. “Thus, we must restructure our strategy. This, I have discussed with the Society, and we have done.”

  There it was again.

  What Faunus had mentioned.

  The Society.

  But, what Society?

  Who were they and what had all this to do with the Beast?

  They could not possibly be referring to the Beast of yore. The creature that assailed the earth, nearly wiping out humankind.

  They could not possibly wish to stir that Beast.

  For what good would come of surfacing such a creature?

  “We had hoped to weaken the realms, establish a firm foothold of leaders and followers, and use him when we had him with us, under our control, to finish cowing them should they protest the righteous worship of the true gods. Now, we will have to use him to bring down the royal houses, eliminate the royal lines, and then we shall install our brothers in their castles, tear down their temples, and build up our own.”

  They did.

  They intended to stir that Beast but not for good.

  To complete The Rising.

  From what Tedrey knew, from what all knew from the last earthly tenure of the Beast, it was unconquerable.

  Mars was mighty, Cassius was clever, True was steadfast, and Aramus commanded the seas.

  But they would stand no chance against the Beast.

  Lorenz must know this.

  Mars must know this.

  They all needed to know this.

  Which meant Tedrey needed to find his way free, find his way back, and share this.

  “We must make haste to the ritual grounds and resume the sacrifices,” Thom stated.

  By the gods.

  With every word uttered, it simply became worse.

  Sacrifices?

  He did not wish to hope (but he did) that they were speaking of sheep.

  He, however, had a feeling, with their determination, and what Tedrey knew about the Beast, that they were not.

  “One each night until we lure him to the surface,” Thom finished.

  Gods.

  “I have your first,” Fenn told him, sweeping an arm to where Tedrey lay, silent and watching.

  “This is the traitor?” Thom queried, beginning to walk in Tedrey’s direction.

  Tedrey did not move, not even to shift his regard from Thom.

  They had not gagged him, for he had not fought them or given any indication he was going to try to escape.

  He hoped, if he remained passive and resigned to his fate, they would not send word to harm Nyx or Lorenz or Faunus or anyone he held in his heart.

  So with them, he would remain.

  But now, he could not.

  Thom stood above him and stared down at Tedrey.

  “Most handsome,” he murmured. “I understand your fascination with him.”

  “I am fascinated no more,” Fenn spat, glaring at Tedrey.

  Thom crouched beside where he lay.

  “I think we shall keep you special,” he whispered to Tedrey. “When the Beast finally surfaces, he will be most hungry. You will slake his craving.”

  Tedrey stared into Thom’s eyes and said not a word.

  He did not wish to slake the Beast’s craving, obviously.

  But that was not why it was imperative he found his way away from this band and made his swift return home.

  He had to warn them.

  He had to warn them all.

  114

  The Hope

  Princess Elena

  Night Heights Mountain Range

  AIREN

  In the dilapidated, abandoned cottage my sisters had cleaned, the roof and chimney they had made makeshift repairs to in order for them to serve their purpose, I sat on a rickety stool next to the narrow bed that swung low on its moorings, making it appear like a cozy hammock.

  However, with my mother’s thin, frail body ensconced in it, cozy seemed almost a profane word to use to describe it.

  She had her eyes closed, but I knew she was not asleep.

  “I would have you talk with me, in the time I have for you to talk with me, if you have the strength to do so,” I requested softly.

  Her eyes opened and focused steadily on me.

  Her gaze might have been steady, but her voice was as thin as her body, and the sound of it clawed at my ears.

  “I lie here thinking of all the things I would wish to say to you, at the same time praying to the goddess that I have already shared all the things you need to know.”

  I reached for her hand, curling my fingers around, and she did not pull away.

  This did not rend my heart. She had not been overtly affectionate throughout my life, but if we were alone, she could find ways to be thus.

  And we were now alone.

  “Please know, I am equipped with what I need,” I assured her stiltedly, just as I had been the days since we’d arrived. Uncertain how to speak, how to say words that needed to be said in order to give her the peace I wished her to have. “You are a good and beloved mother, and you have shared great bounty with me.”

  “I was as good a mother as I could be, still being queen,” she returned.

  “Yes, and your mention of it makes me think you have issue with it,” I replied. “You are queen. I am your daughter, thus you are also my mother. You could not be less of one and more of the other. Who would that have served?”

  Her hand squeezed mine.

  “I made a grave mistake with you and your sister,” she whispered.

  I did not wish to talk of Serena.

  I said nothing.

  “I did not know, you were so young, but if I had taken more time with the both of you—”

  It was with that, I squeezed her hand. “Mum, don’t do this. It serves no purpose.”

  “You don’t lie abed in an abandoned cottage in the mountains of bloody Airen, of all places, dying, Elena. You do not know what purpose I need served.”

  I pressed my lips together, and I did this in order not to smile.

  That was my mother.

  That was also my mum.

  “You find this amusing?” she demanded.

  “I hate to bear these sad tidings, but sometimes I found you funny when you were being arrogant.”

  “This was not lost on me,” she replied.

  I shrugged, trying very hard not to grin at her.

  “May I say what I wanted to say now?” she inquired.

  “Of course,” I murmured.

  “I have spoken with Julia, Agnes and Lucinda, other elders, healers, teachers, captains. It is known my will. And that is, you will be named Queen of the Nadirii at my passing.”

  With that, my fingers around hers automatically curled so strongly, I had to force my grip to relax.

  “Mother,” I whispered.

  “It is the right choice, even if it was a difficult one. I sense change in your sister, but I have not had time to assess it. Something has thrown her off the course of the life I expected her to lead, and I do not know where thi
s new wind will take her. Though at my end, I am glad of the knowing of it, for it gives me hope. However, I cannot let my sisters lie in those hands. I need to know they will have someone who can balance strength with diplomacy. Who understands the heart is in tune with the head and which way to lean with both guiding you when it is time to make decisions. And that is you.”

  “But I will be Queen of Airen and Cass does not wish that to be in name only.” I bent closer to her. “Mum, it is not that I would not wish this. It is the highest of honors. It is just that the fates have taken me elsewhere.”

  “Cassius knows of my decision, and he knows that compromises will need to be made in your marriage and in your realms in order for you both to give all you have to all your responsibilities.”

  I had sat back on her first words, and I remained focused on them when I spoke.

  “Cassius knows this?”

  Her hand then gripped mine, the grip was meager, but it was felt.

  “You will not be angry with him. It was mine to share, not his. It was mine to find the time I wished to share it, not his. And this is my time. However, it was crucial to discuss it with him for I had to know he would be at your side, when needed, at your back, when needed, and lifting you up, when that was needed.”

  I had no doubt Cassius had assured her he would do all of these things as I had no doubt, when needed, he would indeed do all of these things.

  But I would deal with Cassius later.

  For the now, I nodded.

  “As I was saying,” she went on, “I made a grave mistake with you and your sister. And as things will be how they will be, it is important, daughter, for you to understand what it was. For you to know. And so, if the same should come to pass in your future, you will know the right thing to do.”

  My silence was her prompt to carry on.

  This she did.

  “I offered you and your sister mentors that corresponded with your strengths, I did not offer you mentors that challenged your natures. You have the spirit of the goddess in you, meditative, patient. Your sister had the spirit of the warrior, combative, assertive. Melisse did not enhance what you had, she simply guided the way to bring it out. The same with Darma in her teachings with Serena. In giving you what you already had, I did not offer you a different point of view.”

  “We both have done well,” I lied.

  “You have, because you always would. Serena did not, because she needed to be taught how. And once I realized my mistake, it was too late.”

  I drew in breath as I came to understand what she was saying.

  And then she spoke her true message in a quiet voice filled with yearning.

  “You need to be patient with her, Elena.”

  “Mother—”

  “That is not your mother who requests that of you, Ellie. It is your mum.”

  My eyes started stinging.

  “She is your sister, my glorious daughter,” she whispered.

  I turned my head away.

  “I would have Dora here,” she said, changing the subject.

  I turned back, the words on my lips to offer to send a bird, bring the girls to her immediately (or as immediately as was possible), however, she carried on before I could.

  “But that is selfish. She would not benefit from seeing me thus. But if I had my wish, she would be at my side, as well as the buoyancy of Cassius’s girl. Aelia knows no other way than the one you will soon endure. If Aelia were here, she’d lift you up.”

  “I will be fine,” I assured her.

  “You will be lost, and you will be sad and then you will be angry and after that you will be sad again. And maybe later, you will be fine. It will be a different manner of fine to what you are used to, but trust me, my daughter, you will find your way to it.”

  I did not know if that was true, but I did not argue it.

  I bent to her again, lifting her hand to hold it close to my heart.

  But she pulled it away in order to lift it farther and touch my cheek.

  “You will make a magnificent queen, Elena,” she said quietly. “I’ve had much time to think on it these past days, and I have realized I envy Wilmer. He will be alive to watch his son thrive. I will not have that gift, but I wish you to know, I die understanding it.”

  “Perhaps I was wrong, and I did not wish for you to talk with me.”

  Her mouth curled up at the ends.

  I took up her hand again in both my own and held her fingers to my lips.

  I cast my eyes down, filling my vision with her fingers, still looking so capable, and I memorized the sight of them.

  And with those fingers pressed to my mouth, I spoke against them.

  “I love you, Mum.”

  “And I you, my glorious Elena,” she replied. “I love you to the sun and every star beyond and I have from the moment I sensed you in my womb.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “You do not know,” she said.

  I opened my eyes and looked at her, replying fiercely, “I do know.”

  She gave me a soft smile. “I know you know of my love, or at least I hope so. That is not of which I speak.”

  I moved her hand back to my heart. “Of what do you speak?”

  “You embody the hope,” she shared. “The hope of our sisters those centuries ago, before it was lost, and they had to do their worst to gain their liberty. The hope of Airenzian women now, when they look at you, or simply know you are amongst them. Indeed, the hope of all women everywhere. That you can be you, the strength of you, the magic of you, the skills of you, the nurture of you, the compassion of you, the thoughtfulness of you, the love of you, even the flaws of you. You can be that, and just be free to be that. All of it. All the magnificence of you.”

  I stared down at her, feeling the tears trembling in my eyes.

  She was not finished, however.

  “And you can be that and have him,” she said, her voice softer. “And he returns all of it, and this is the way it can be. The way it should be. That you are free to be all of you, give all of you, and receive it in return.”

  I swallowed, for this was what I had, what Cassius had, and what we gave each other.

  “Do you love him?” she whispered.

  “He is a third of my world, the other two are you and Dora.”

  “And Aelia,” she stated.

  “All right, so he’s a quarter of my world,” I muttered.

  “And Melisse.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her.

  “And Jasmine and Hera,” she continued.

  At that, those eyes rolled.

  “And Serena,” her hand shook mine, “and don’t pretend you do not have love in your heart for your sister. I know you do.”

  “This makes what I feel for Cassius sound less dramatic than it actually is,” I complained.

  “This is the problem of the world,” my mother declared grandly, her voice stronger than it had been our entire conversation, as it always became when she was offering wisdom. “There is this idea that love has limits. You can love many with all of your heart, Elena. It does not come in pieces. It is not a well you dip into and deplete. It is not a sword you wield to give and then take away to cause injury. It is a muscle that, the more you use it, the stronger it gets.”

  “I am now torn between annoyance that you are always so very right, and agony, knowing…”

  I did not complete my thought.

  I did not need to.

  “You will have Melisse,” she said gently. “You will have my lieutenants. Cassius. You will find strength. You will gain wisdom. You, my Ellie,” her eyes began to shine brightly, and at seeing this, I again had to swallow, “will be all right.”

  “Yes, I will,” I assured.

  It was a lie in that moment.

  But it was a lie that needed to be spoken.

  “Do you need water?” I asked. “Some broth?”

  “I need to rest,” she replied. “Perhaps you can read to me?”

  I looked to the
floor where her book lay.

  I put her hand to her chest, took up the book, opened it at the ribbon and began reading.

  I continued to do so when I sensed she was asleep.

  I only stopped when there was a quiet knock on the door.

  Whoever was behind it did not wait for me to open it.

  It opened, albeit slowly, and I saw Cassius’s head come around its edge.

  I opened my mouth to tell him Mother was asleep, but he looked to me and to her too quickly.

  Thus, he fully opened the door and came in as I stood from my seat.

  And then I froze when, from behind him, came Serena, then Melisse, and after, a Go’Doan priest. The one I had met some time ago in Firenze who had given me tinctures to offer Mother.

  I did not like the priest being there, but I had no time for that.

  I went directly to Melisse.

  But it was she who pulled me in her arms.

  “You look robust,” I said into her ear.

  “You lie. I need meat on my bones and the ride to this place was more than I was ready for, so I also need a nap.”

  I leaned away from her, still in her arms, as she was in mine, and I looked down at her.

  “But I am here,” she finished.

  She was there. Pale. Worn.

  But alive.

  I pulled her into my arms again.

  “How did I know you would not stay away?”

  My mother’s voice made me turn.

  And when I did, I saw Serena standing at the foot of the bed, her arms crossed on her chest, her eyes locked to our mother.

  But the Go’Doan priest was at Mum’s bedside, he had her wrist in his hand, and it was he to whom she was speaking.

  He then placed her hand on her stomach and moved his to her forehead.

  I opened my mouth to ask who the bloody hell he thought he was when he asked his own question to my mum, though it came out more as an accusation.

  “You’re in pain?”

  “A little.”

  “I gave you draughts for this,” he stated.

  He did?

  “I thought I would wait—” Mother began.

  “The time is now,” he stated smartly and then turned to the door and called, “Saira?”

  A woman in a Dellish gown and cloak, ones of fine quality that were rather charming, bustled in carrying a leather satchel.

  “Allo, Saira,” Mother greeted her warmly.