Keepers of the Crown

by Lydia Redwine

  Cam glanced at Peter, wishing it was him who would lead them. But his leg…

  She wondered one more thing as she tore her thoughts from Peter and from Owen. She choked over the words as she lifted her tearfilled eyes to meet Peter’s. “Where is Ilea?”

  “I asked Daniel about his friends, Shael’s sister, and the man she went with to the north. He has received word from them through a messenger he knew in Mingroth. Hananiah and Azariah are their names. They are married, much to Daniel and Shael’s delight, and have been made leaders of people that left Mingroth with them. Apparently, Spirit Followers, former citizens of Enboria, and former slaves of King Andel himself have become a nation. Small but...beautiful, I would think.”

  -From the diary of Cassia Caddell, written during the Third Age

  Thirty-Three

  The Spirit Followers left a white banner hanging on the utmost

  point on the stronghold before they left. The banner’s dove was threaded in gold. A ray of light in a darkened land, Cam thought. It was Joel who had put the banner up, and now the entire company stood before it while Peter murmured a string of words. A prayer. Peter’s words drifted off. “Victory is ours because of Elyon.”

  Everything inside Cam coiled at those words. “If Elyon is real and He is good, why did He let this happen? Why did He let Mista die? Or is Elyon but a shadow like Silva said? He may yet be nothing but the dust of imaginations. And if He is real, He is...cruel.” But the words faded inside of her like ash. Like they meant nothing. Everything inside of her was dull and still. The remainder of the assembly prayed silently after Peter had finished. Cam clutched the dove necklace in her hand. It's hard surface dug into her palm. She hated it just now. Hated it because of what it symbolized. Hated it because it had been Owen who had given it to her. Now Owen had accused her and her sister of deception and cowardice.

  A day had passed since then. A day in which Cam had slept. And when she had awoken, she had let Peter take her hand and lead her onto the ledge outside. The world was bathed in warm sunlight, sunlight that came from outside of the valley which had emerged when Mingroth’s queen had fallen.

  The company who could have once called themselves friends of one another had stood, listening to Peter in stiff silence. Cam counted them. A couple had been lost, people Cam had barely made acquaintance with. Fiera, Caleb, Joel, Owen, Peter, Lia, and a few others were left. They still had a single thing in common. They wanted to find the remaining hostages. And Saffira would be awaiting them outside the valley. But Cam was thinking of someone elsejust now. “Ilea.” And thethought of the Scarlet Spy poisoning Silva only left her numb. Nothing else. No penetration of fury or vengeance. Ilea had wanted her dead too. And Cam couldn't blame her.

  Cam knew now that the plan was simple. They would find Adria and the other hostages in the south and bring healing to their broken comrades. They would leave Mingroth behind forever. They would make safe passage from its walls, for the Shadow Bearers were currently cowering in their keeps. She knew it simply from the softness of the light. From the breeze that whispered hope down her spine.

  “We must depart immediately,” Owen said stiffly when the Spirit Followers had re-entered the fortress. He glanced at Peter who was wincing as he attempted to hobble on his infected leg. The journey would be difficult, especially if the Shadow Bearers to the south had not yet heard the state of their queen. But first, Cam had one last thing to do. She knew Ilea was alive. And so she roamed the fortress in search of her. It was not hard to find her.

  Cam entered the throne room, her footfalls light. She did not glance at the floor littered with corpses. She only walked towards the lone woman standing in a patch of light, her eyes closed. Cam’s voice was raspy and choked from all the crying when she spoke. Her eyes still burned red from the tears. Everything felt swollen. “Thank you, Ilea, for all your help. For your sacrifice and for the burden you carry.”

  Ilea’s eyes opened. She appeared hollow, her gaze far off. Her complexion lacked color and life. Cam knelt, taking the woman’s handin her own. “Weoweyoueverything.” For thekey, for the plan to free the Band of the Banished. For helping them deceive Silva.

  Tears drifted down Cam’s cheeks. “None of this would have been possible without you. And I am sorry that I ever doubted you.”

  Ilea nodded, her own eyes filling with tears. Her hand squeezed Cam’s. “I did it for the Savior, for He is here.” A smile lifted her lips. “And thank you, Camaria, for coming to find me.”

  Cam roseto her feet, Ilea’s handstill clutchedin her own. She didn't care who this woman was just now. She didn’t care about her secrets or if she had truly been the one to end Silva’s life. She had sacrificed so much for them. She had been held in Silva’s clutches for far too long. Realization hit Cam. “When did you heal?”

  Ilea’s smilewas soft. “BecauseHecameto me.TheSavior found me and healed me.”

  “When?” Cam whispered

  Ilea did not answer but said instead, her eyes glistening, “Cam, I just want to go home.”

  Cam put her arms around Ilea, her hold tightening as the woman began to cry. “I know,” she said softly. “I do too.” But even then she knew that home to Ilea was not home to Cam. Ilea spoke of Caelae. Cam spoke of a land that was no more. But it was enough that they both wished to be gone from here.

  Ilea pulled away, at last, leaving Cam feeling empty and cold. “Immanuel says He will be awaiting us in the south, for He has gone to join the hostages.”

  The ache in Cam’s chest caused her heart to pound and hands tremble around the case. “Will he really save the world?” Her lips quivered.

  Ilea smiled through her own tears, and she nodded. “I believe He will. But His sacrifice will not be enough to bring us home to Caelae. A choice will have to be made.”

  “But first…” Ilea handed Cam a small iron case, one which might hold jewelry or something of the like. “He told me to give you this.” Cam took the cool object in her palms.

  “Your sister’s ashes. Take them home.”

  The dark trees formed a dense forest. Only the tiniest path was

  visible beneath the canopy which blocked the sky from view. The world changed abruptly when the company broke from the forest and into a foreign land, unlike anything they had ever laid their eyes on before.

  The world was no longer tainted blue but threaded with golden tones set in the gray clouds. The trees were replaced by pointed towers of black rock. The ground was comprised of sand and scattered puddles of warm water which reflected all that was above.

  Crows and ravens drifted behind and beyond the rocks, occasionally cawing. The air was still as if whatever would meet them as they journeyed onward hung invisible before them. The path from the forest took them along another which ran parallel to the edge of a deep chasm.

  Within the chasm was seen an occasional wisp of smoke and dancing blue flames among sinister jagged rocks. “The Fire Shadow Bearers must dwell there,” Owen said. He had come to stand beside Cam who had taken her place at the edge and was scanning her eyes over all that was below her. She stiffened next to him, still not sure what to make of his outburst in the fortress. “We will send some of our company into the search for the hostages. If they are nowhere to be seen by morning, we head further south to the Air territory.”

  Cam nodded curtly. “Is it safe to camp here tonight?” she asked, ripping her eyes from the chasm to where their company was now assembled. “A stupid question,” she thought. “We are never safe as long as we are here.”

  She glanced at Peter who was standing idly by as those more capable assembled the tents that they would sleep in tonight. Or toss and turn in tonight.

  “A group of three will keep watch at every hour,” Owen assured Cam, cutting into her thoughts. With that, he, Lia, and another man, one who couldhave been Cole’s age, propelledinto the chasm. Cam watched the three figures dart on the ground towards a mass of pointed towers of rocks, which she presumed, was the city of the Shadow
Bearers of Fire. Part of her wished she could be in their company, but Owen had insisted that she stay with the others.

  When the three warriors had become nearly indistinguishable within the chasm, Cam retreated to join the others. Fiera was not to be found assisting the others in assembling camp. Cam had only to wander for a few moments before she found her leaning over Caleb.

  Cam still would not set her eyes upon Caleb. She knew she would only see pain. She did not bother to inquire of his health, for she knew he was quite near death. She did, however, allow her eyes to rest upon Fiera. Her sister was a face of bronze adorned with scars and cuts and slackened into a grim expression.

  Fieracut a sideways glance at Cam. “Silva hadnot a scrap of anything for healing,” she stated.

  “She had Medulla for healing. Once.”

  Fiera’s eyes were on the ground. “You told me that Silva said remnants of the magic had been kept rather than destroyed.”

  Cam nodded and blew out a breath. “Who knows where in this Hell it is now.”

  Fierastoodup, edgingcloser to her younger sister. “Cam, I don’t want to go looking for it. I don’t want to find it.”

  Cam’s brows rose in surprise, her lips parting to ask why. But Fiera continued. “I don’t want to give our peoplehope where there is none. As soon as the magic begins to take life again, it could be taken just as quickly.”

  “And we would have to learn how some of it came to be. Medulla seems simple enough. A seed. Plant a tree. But Cinis Lumen came from the stars themselves,” Cam added.

  “And...and,” Fiera began.

  Cam knew what she was grappling with. “The Spirit Followers have said that the Mineral Magic would one day leave, making way for that of Caelae to be in our own possession.”

  Fiera tilted her head, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Do you believe that?”

  Cam shrugged. “The Mineral Magic is gone. Or nearly gone, and you’ve decided going to look for it would be imprudent.” She turned her gaze to the mountains of black rock that seemed so very far away.

  Fiera was asking another question, her eyes now diverted to Caleb who lay on the ground upon a makeshift litter. “Do you believe that... praying will help? Or making some sort of sacrifice or whatever it is they do?”

  Cam was slightly taken aback at the posed question. “Peter and the rest of them pray often, and they very much believe the act holds power.”

  “Then you pray, Cam. Pray that Elyon won’t take Caleb from metoo.” Fiera stalkedoff, leavingCam with an almost dead friend under the shelter of an enormous rock overhang.

  She did not remain long.

  Something Leviathan had said to her emerged into her memory, and she sought out Peter. There was yet one more thing she had to tell him. That the shadow of his past still followed him. She gulped down the expanding ache at the very thought. She found him leaning against a smoother portion of rock, sweat dripping from his brow. “How are you?” The question was unnecessary.

  Peter scowled.

  Cam sat beside him. The sand was scorching beneath the sun. She found little comfort even in the shade. “Whatever you thought was killed in the city Silva sent you into has remained alive. Leviathan is still out there. I saw him before Silva vanished. Before we found her dead.” Her voicetrembled under the weight of the words.

  She did not meet his gaze. She was afraid to. But the silence stretching between them seemed to last an eternity. So, at last, she turned, willing him to speak. His expression struck her. The tears in his eyes, the gaze he held her with.

  “But…” his voice was raspy, “But I saw the lightning…”

  Cam pulled him towards her, her arms going around his neck as the tears pressed into her own eyes. “I’m sorry, Peter,” she whispered. His breathing grew more ragged on her neck.

  “It-it h-has to be dead. I-my father, he, he…” Peter trailed off.

  Cam pulled away slightly, just enough to see his face in the receding light. “What happened Peter? You can tell me.”

  He jerked away. “No, Cam. N-not yet.” His breathingwas heavy as he raked a hand through his hair, his eyes wide. Cam reached for his hand and held it as he grew quieter, the weight of her revelation bearing down upon him. She parted her lips, preparing to tell him about Terra’s memory. Maybeifshe shared a shred of hope…

  But Peter was speaking. “Thank you, Cam, for telling me the truth.” She turned to meet his gaze. He squeezed her hand, his voice choking. “It would be far harder to face him again without warning. It is better to have a friend such as you to tell me.”

  A tear slipped down Cam’s cheek.

  “I’m feeling feverish, and I have no feeling in my leg. The infection has become worse.”

  “You survived. Elyon will save you,” she murmured, not convinced that the statement was true at all, but it was something he would have said. Something her father would have said.

  Peter laughed roughly. “But He didn’t kill Leviathan, did He?” She made no reply, but she knew his words to be true for whatever reason Elyon intended.

  At the thought of Him, two lights flickered in her mind. One of realization in which she peered at the world before her and just knew that something, someone had to have created all of this. Too much had happened at just the right time in just the right way. “Much like with Silva’s schemes.” The other light was that of one flickering out, vanishing into nothingness.

  Mista.

  The name was a whisper of a forgotten sun, a dagger lodged within. Twisting, twisting, twisting.

  Peter’s voice fell into the chasm of Cam’s thoughts. “Did you like it when you kissed me?” She raised her head to see his grin and sparkling blue eyes.

  “It was only to smuggle you, the dagger, and magic,” she replied dryly. She paused. And grinned. “You didn’t do a very good job of kissing me back.” Peter stuttered a laugh as he released her hand to remove his cloak.

  “Cole might kill me if he ever sees me so much as holding your hand.”

  “He’d want the best for me, Peter,” Cam told him. She would not look at him, would not show her burning face even in the dim light. Peter’s lips parted as if he was going to say more, but he thought better of it and sealed his lips. His cheek brushed the top of her head as he rested it upon her.

  They sat in silence for a long time until Peter asked Cam to sing their song, the one Cole had taught them so long ago. She murmured the words softly, the song drifting with the last breath of dusk to a far off place where memories blinked like starlight. “Evermore. Evermore. Evermore.”

  The gates clanged together behind Owen. He swallowed hard as

  he soaked in the sight of expansive stairs before him. The stairs were narrow, long, and rose up to meet a throne made of spiked steel. The throne was set against a window which covered the entire wall and allowed the pale blue light to drift through.

  Night had covered the chasm. The company would no doubt be slipping into slumber no matter how restless they were. Strange sensations pulled at Owen’s heartstrings. Was he feeling guilt, anticipation or a mixture? “This is what you want,” he repeated to himself over and over again. A sort of sickening anthem; one strung together with ancient, untuned instruments.

  His nerves were set on edge as he thought back to the time directly before the attack on Mirabelle and his meeting in the cave. The messenger had no voice and no eyes but still bore the seal of Leviathan himself. It was all flickers of memories now, ones he wished to distort. Leviathan emerged, draped in a familiar black robe. He came to seat himself on the throne. “I knew I would find you here,” Owen said, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

  Leviathan's brow rose. “Well, yes, I left you that information through the letter sent with my favorite servant.”

  “You said I was your favorite.”

  Leviathan's grin was twisted. “I say that to everyone. Except to Gnosi’s former prince.”

  “Where are the hostages?” Owen demanded, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. />
  Leviathan cackled. “Not here. The Air territory, if you must know. But the stronghold is well guarded. The only way your company has access to your precious people is when I command my legions to release them.”

  “We made a deal that if I brought to you what you seek, you would set her free.” Owen willed his tone to taste like steel, but it faltered instead.

  “You mean the dead girl?”

  Owen stilled. He did not have to nod or say anything to confirm Leviathan’s rhetorical query. “Of course. You brought me one who has the information, or close enough. I will allow you to see the one you desire when the task is over. I need everything. Every morsel of information. You will continue to travel with the company until you have learned everything. Why is it that they never told you where the Crown was?”

  “They assumedI already knew,” Owen repliedcoldly. His tone changed to something softer when his next words reached Leviathan. “The only way that they will feel safe to speak of such things will be when they feel safe, back in Mirabelle, with the hostages in their company.”

  “Are you saying that in order for you to gain access to the answers which your quest requires, thehostages must be freed?”

  Owen nodded firmly. Leviathan released a long, exasperated sigh. “You may have your wish then.” He waved a hand in Owen’s direction. “Leave me. Complete your quest so that I may return to Drakon and the others. We will return for you in Mirabelle when the time is proper.”

  “And you will make her come back?”

  Leviathan’s holloweyes liftedto meet Owen’s. “Yesss,” he hissed. “Your love will rise from the dead when you pay the price for using such magic. She will be yours until your death, and then she will fall to ash with you.” Leviathan then cackled. “Camaria Caddell never had to play such games. You could have simply come to me and the hostages would have been set free.”