Dead Moons Rising: First in the Honest Scrolls series

by Jack Whitney

  Help, she called out.

  “—But I wonder how she would weep if you were dropped off this cliff—”

  The raven dove at his face.

  Rhaif cried out, and his hand slipped from around her throat.

  Her ankles hit the grass hard, and she looked up just in time to see blood trickling down her brother’s face. He shoved her raven off him finally as Aydra stood from the ground. Bewildered eyes met hers, as though he were suddenly waking from the trance he’d been under only a moment before.

  For a few seconds, neither moved. Aydra rubbed her throat, feeling her muscles shaking as she wrapped her head around the reality of what had just happened. The gaze in his eyes softened, and she watched as his chest began to heave, and then he reached out for her.

  “Drae—”

  She flinched away from him and started walking backwards down the trail. “Don’t touch me,” she whispered.

  He’d apologized and wept in her arms that night, swearing to her he would never do it again. Swearing he’d just been frustrated at their youngers’ markings the day before.

  Lies.

  Her dream morphed, and suddenly she was on the floor of the Throne Room, Rhaif standing above her triumphantly.

  It was the day Rhaif had finally been marked of his sign and given his abilities— ten years after Aydra’s own marking, and a full Dead Moons cycle after their youngers had been given their markings.

  Summer had been in full bloom. Aydra could still smell the flowers on the vines that had entangled themselves around the stone of the Throne Room.

  Arbina walked along the edge of her pool, her feet hardly making ripples in the surface as she watched Aydra and Rhaif parry. They’d had a good morning, went swimming down around the bend, chased each other over the sand when Aydra had told the seagulls to annoy him more than usual.

  Rhaif grinned and extended a hand to Aydra’s fallen figure. Aydra paused, her confused gaze washing over the pride in her brother’s features. Her chest swelled at his smile, and she took his hand.

  “You’ve been practicing without me,” she noted.

  Rhaif chuckled under his breath and pulled her up off the floor. “I don’t always need your help, favored daughter,” he said with a wink.

  Aydra rolled her eyes, but did not deter the smirk from her lips. She whirled her sword in her hand and grinned at her brother’s smug facade.

  “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

  He lunged forward, striking swords with her again and again, this time more fiercely than the times before. Aydra was pushed backwards. Her brows narrowed at this newfound strength he’d suddenly found, but she continued to fight him anyway. He was fast, much faster than she was accustomed to him being.

  “Rhaif—”

  A wildness filled his dilated pupils. She tried to push forward, to strike him above her.

  But the edge of the Throne Room met her feet.

  Aydra yelped as her heels hit nothing but air, and the wooden sword in her hand fell into the waterfall.

  “Rhaif!”

  Her scream echoed off the stone. Her raven screeched.

  Aydra’s hands caught herself on the stone edge. Her feet dangled. She stretched for anything to help her push herself up.

  But Rhaif was standing at the edge of the room over her, and Aydra’s core froze at the sight of his eighteen-year-old self staring at her with such malice in his gaze.

  “Very good, my son.”

  The coo of her mother’s voice sent a chill down Aydra’s spine.

  She’d never heard her call him ‘my son’ before.

  Aydra watched Arbina stretch the space between them and wrap an arm around Rhaif’s shoulders, ignoring Aydra’s struggling figure hanging from the edge. Aydra grappled with her slipping grip.

  Arbina led Rhaif over to the edge of her pool.

  “You are ready,” Arbina told him, a smile on her face.

  Rhaif’s chest swelled, and Arbina led him deeper into the water.

  Aydra’s feet finally found a rock to sink in to. She hoisted herself up, pulling her body up and over the white stone. She rolled onto the floor just as she saw her brother’s head dive beneath the liquid. Bubbles erupted onto the surface. She could hear his screams, see the blood from the waters cutting through his skin as he was marked.

  Blue flames engulfed the surface.

  Aydra’s eyes widened. Her raven landed beside her, and it gave her finger a comforting nip.

  It was the sight of her brother walking out of the pool that made her heart stop.

  His clothes had been ripped of him. He was soaking wet, his navy black hair matted down over his daring eyes. Streaks of black ran up his torso like veins beneath his skin. His hands and wrists were blackened with the ash of the Promised King.

  His chest heaved up and down with deliberate labored breaths.

  But in his hand was something she didn’t expect—the gleam of a bright silver sword danced in the sunlight, and his fist curled around the handle.

  Arbina stepped up to him, her arms crossed over her chest, chin raised in the air. She reached out and stroked his cheek.

  “Show your form, Rhafian Sunfire.”

  Rhaif’s shout bellowed through the air. Blue flames erupted onto his skin.

  Aydra felt her core drain as she watched her brother take his true form.

  Their elder, Vasilis, had died that night.

  The moons were shining bright through her window when Aydra’s eyes fluttered open. She thought she’d heard something. A shadow passed between she and the window, and she jumped so fiercely, water splashed onto the floor.

  Draven was staring down at her with a frown.

  “Sweet Arbina, Draven,” she breathed, willing her heart to beat at a normal pace.

  “Why are you asleep in the tub?” he asked.

  She sighed heavily and rubbed her face, the memory of why she was there and the dreams she’d just had filling her mind. Her hands grasped to the sides of the tub, and she shook her head.

  “It’s nothing,” she managed. “Just a bit overwhelmed.”

  He reached for her robe and held it for her as she stood. The look on his face made her heart tighten.

  “Don’t look at me like that, Draven,” she said, slipping her arms into the warmth of the thicker robe. “I simply had a long day.”

  “I saw you in the streets with him,” he said as she stepped from the bath.

  She pulled the robe tighter around her and avoided his eyes. “Choosing decorations for the celebration tomorrow,” she explained. “It’s apparently going to be an extravagant affair.” She did a double-take at his figure as he stood in the light of the window, the shadows resting in his face settled into his features. His jaw tightened, and she shook her head at him again.

  “Don’t,” she warned.

  “I didn’t—”

  “I mean do not look at me as though I am some broken filly,” she managed, feeling her chest begin to heave.

  Draven’s gaze narrowed. “Why would you think I would look at you as such?”

  “Because—because you saw me having to act with him today and you have to know how much that hurt,” she admitted, feeling a lump rise in her throat. “To have to walk beside someone who would condemn me tomorrow if given the chance. Act as though he has not turned into the monster kings of our past… as though nothing has changed and he has not become someone he promised not to be—”

  “You cannot save him,” Draven whispered.

  Her heart shattered into bits as she met his eyes. “But why can’t I?” she managed. “He is my brother. We grew up playing, laughing… We loved each other. We promised to be so much better. What happened? Why can’t I save him from the madness of our predecessors?”

  Draven stepped closer and held her hands in his. “Fear is our greatest enemy. It causes you to do things you never thought yourself capable of. Your brother is lost to the gravity of it. Everything you are, he fears. You are smart, strong, confident
, intrepid… you could be the greatest leader this Echelon has ever known. And tomorrow, when our friends from the east and south get here, his jealousy of you will only get worse.”

  He paused and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “I’ve no doubt every race will be calling you their queen before the week is over.”

  “I would never ask them to,” she whispered.

  “And that is why they will.”

  She fell into his arms and he hugged her against his chest. “And what about when this week is over? When our guests have left and you have returned to the Forest?”

  “Then you kill him,” he said with a shrug.

  She pursed her lips up at him and shook her head. “I am not killing my brother.”

  Draven sighed heavily, a low growl emitting from his throat. “It would save us a lot of grief.”

  “And it would also start a war we do not need.”

  His weight shifted, and his jaw tightened as he met her eyes. “Killjoy.”

  She started to smile, but the door opened then, and Lex burst into the room.

  “My Queen— Venari King, you both need to hear this—”

  Aydra did a double-take at the sight of her Second’s widened eyes and bewildered gaze. Her arms fell from Draven.

  “Lex, what’s wrong?”

  Lex stopped at the edge of the bed, swallowing hard as she stared between them. Draven’s weight shifted towards her.

  “Spit it out, Second Sun,” he demanded.

  “Infi,” Lex said with a heave of her chest. “Infi reported in the smithing streets.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  “WHAT—AGAIN?!”

  Aydra grabbed a dress from the closet and shoved it over her head. Draven tossed her her boots.

  “How many?” he asked.

  “Three.”

  A low growl of frustration left his throat, and he pushed his hands through his hair. Aydra watched him a moment, and for the briefest of seconds, the memory of past Venari betrayals entered her mind. She pushed past him and followed Lex from the room.

  Their quick footsteps echoed in the silent hall. Aydra couldn’t stop turning her ring over and over on her finger, a knot forming in her stomach as the thoughts of betrayal invaded her consciousness and core.

  Her raven screeched over her head.

  She was wrong… right?

  “Is there something you should be telling me?” Aydra asked as they reached the next hall.

  “Like what?” he asked.

  Her jaw tightened. “I think you know.”

  “Like telling you as in you think I’ve unleashed these creatures on your kingdom?” Draven knew.

  “Have you?” she dared to ask.

  “There was once such a plan, yes—”

  Aydra stalled in her steps and rounded on him. “Excuse me?”

  His jaw tightened, and his eyes flickered to the ground. And when he didn’t speak, her heart began to throb in her ears.

  “You speak about such a plan so causally,” she hissed. “Has this all been a rouse? Our entire relationship? A trick to take over the Promised crown?”

  His gaze met hers, and the sadness resting in his pupils made her chest constrict. “Is that what you think of me?” he said in a voice barely audible.

  Her weight shifted. “It’s not what I want to think—”

  “Then why would you say it?”

  “For the same reason you once asked me if I’d called my brother to invade your realm,” she spat. Her gaze washed over his figure, and she pressed her hands to her hips. “Given our own history and the history of our races, I have to ask.”

  He straightened, and a blank expression filled his shadowed features. “So ask it.”

  Her arms crossed over her chest, and the words she was forced to speak broke her heart. “Have you allowed Infi to live and brought them here? To invade our towns and my kingdom in an attempt to take over this realm as kings of your past have done?”

  “Not during my reign,” he answered.

  “But there was a plan?”

  “We don’t have time for this,” Lex interjected.

  “A plan I abandoned,” Draven continued. “I have not let any Infi live during my time as king. You saw me the morning after during the Deads.”

  “And are there any of his old supporters in your ranks? Anyone who would—”

  “The people now in my kingdom would not go against my leadership,” he insisted. “You know them. You have spent time with them.”

  She wanted to believe him. She wanted to take his words as truth.

  “Drae!”

  Dorian was running at them down the hall. She reached out as he caught up, and he nearly bounded into her. “What’s happened? Where are they?”

  “A few of the smiths cornered them, locked them up,” said Lex.

  “How did they know they were Infi?” Dorian asked.

  “I wasn’t told much,” Lex admitted. “Just that they’d been found and the men were calling up for support.”

  “We need to hurry before word spreads,” Aydra said. “Guests will be here in the morning. We don’t need them knowing about this, nor do we need Rhaif finding out. Come—” the sudden look Aydra saw on Draven’s face made her words cease.

  His hands were on his hips and he was staring at the ground with widened eyes as though something had just occurred to him that he’d not thought of before.

  Frozen.

  Paralyzed.

  “Draven?” Dorian sounded.

  Draven’s widened eyes rose to meet Aydra’s, and she saw the color had drained from his face. He didn’t speak, but instead rubbed his his face in his hands, starting to pace on the carpet as his hands tugged on the roots of his hair. “I’m so stupid—”

  The wind began to pick up around them, and one of the windows burst open, hitting the walls hard. Dorian and Lex jumped, ducking slightly at the sound of it. Aydra’s chest constricted, and she watched with a tightened jaw as Draven’s frustration nearly caused the rug beneath their feet to billow off the stone.

  “We need to go,” Aydra insisted.

  The four of them ran through the castle in silence with their cloaks high over their heads as they headed into the darkened streets. Most Dreamers had gone to sleep, but the fires were still lit outside one of the shops on the smithing street. As they neared, she could hear a rumble of people speaking inside.

  Lex opened the door and went inside first. Aydra allowed Dorian to walk in before her, followed by she and lastly Draven. Twenty Dreamers were gathered around the fire lit room. They spoke animatedly in hushed, harsh, voices. They barely seemed to notice the four coming inside. She recognized the one she knew as Grey towards the back of the room, arms folded over his chest.

  Three men were tied up and subdued in the middle of the circle. Aydra swallowed hard at the sight of their reddened faces, the streaks of blackened blood where it looked like men had beaten and struck them with irons to keep them from running.

  One man did a double-take at them then, and he said, “Who let you in, Belwark?”

  A brow raised on Aydra’s face, and she whipped her hood off her head. “I believe it is my kingdom. My Second can go wherever she pleases.”

  “Your Majesty’s—”

  Dreamers dropped to one knee around them, and Aydra’s jaw clenched. Dorian removed his hood then, and he slowly started walking around the three Infi in the middle of the room. He paused in front of one, pressing a finger to its face and pushing its head sideways, looking over the beaten streaks on its face.

  “Where did you find them?” Dorian asked aloud.

  “It was just past sunset,” answered Grey from his knees. “They were sneaking around the back of my shop.”

  “Stand,” Aydra told the Dreamers.

  “How did you know what they were?” Dorian continued, pausing over the next one. He grabbed its hair and lifted the Infi’s head, revealing the slow blink of the yellow eyes Aydra sometimes saw in her nightmares.

  �
��You see those eyes once…” Grey said as he stood from his knee, “you can’t really get them out of your head.”

  “I thought we were rid of this filth,” said one of the women.

  “The Infi are possibly growing bolder and coming down from the mountain towns,” Draven said then, slowly removing his hood. “They—”

  “What’s he doing here?” said someone.

  “Venari King— He has unleashed these beasts into our streets!”

  “You are not welcome here, traitor!”

  “Get out—”

  The noises of their protests filled Aydra’s ears to the point that her heart shattered in her chest. She looked at Draven, seeing the crestfallen expression in his features, his fists tightening at his sides.

  He had not asked for this.

  “Cease!” Aydra shouted.

  Their voices silenced, and she pressed her hand to Draven’s arm.

  Dorian’s cloak whipped around him as he stared at the faces in the room. Aydra could see the fire rising in his gaze, the tips of his fingers darkening as he turned in a circle and dared any of the Dreamers in the room to speak.

  “The Venari King is the only person with the knowledge of how to rid our streets of these creatures,” Dorian affirmed. “He has not unleashed anything on our kingdom. You’ll do well to remember it next time you see him.”

  “Wait outside,” Aydra whispered to Draven with a slight squeeze of his bicep.

  Draven didn’t look at her when he exited the shop.

  Her eyes met her brother’s as she hugged the cloak around her chest, and then she looked around at the people staring at her. “Elders of the Blackhand mountains are to arrive tomorrow. We will have a long discussion with them about the way they allow these creatures to stay alive.”

  “How do you know that is where they come from?” asked one of the women. “How do you know it is not a trick of the Venari—”

  “The Venari do not allow the Infi to walk among them,” Aydra interjected quickly, eyes glaring through the woman that had brought up the notion. The woman sank back into the shadows, and Aydra stepped forward to stand beside her brother.

  “Does anyone else have any opinions they would like to get out?” she dared to ask.