Keepers of the Crown

by Lydia Redwine

  “Peter?!” Fiera hissed. “What the hell!?”

  Cam’s astonishment prevented her from stopping the rock she had slipped on. The rock, which was the size of her foot, rolled from the entry down into the crater. It fell with a tremendous crash. Both Fiera and Cam winced. Peter’s gaze whirled from the audience before him to where Cam stood. Recognition crossed his countenance and was followed by a sudden look ofterror and surprise. Tears welled intoCam’s eyes. He swallowed, stuttered, seemed to try to call out to her, but he couldn't.

  She fled. Fiera blundered after her in the tunnel. Cam crashed into the stone wall, and darkness swept over her.

  Forty-Six

  Cam awoke in her bed within the cottage she, Fiera, Adria, and

  Amelia were staying in. Adria was bending over her, concern etched into her expression. Cam felt a cool compress on her brow and the painful lump beneath it. “So, I’m not dead,” she thought as she remembered seeing the stone wall. And then...falling.

  Adria, having noticed the questions jumping into Cam’s mind, said hastily, “Fiera carried you back. She told me that the door opened for her and that she has gone to see Caleb again.” Adria paused to dip the cloth at Cam’s forehead into water. “And that she’s going to give Peter a good beating when he returns. Did he do this to you?”

  Cam shook her head. She didn’t feel numb as she had when she had run. Rather, everything she had seen and heard and felt was...flooding through her, flooding her bloodstream... She jerked up from her bed, but Adria insisted she lay down again. Cam’s headsurgedwith blood, blurringher vision. Adria’s hand pressed on her shoulder, and she sank back to the bed.

  “What happened?” Adria asked softly. “W -why…? Why would he do this?” The sinking feeling of betrayal twisted within her gut.

  Owen and now Peter?

  She sat up again. Adria moved to stuff pillows behind her back.

  “Maybe this will help.” Adria offered as she held up Callie. Thepuppy’sears twitchedandher eyessparkled. But Cam only thought of Peter. She shook her head vehemently. Adria looked rather crestfallen. She gathered the pup into her arms and sank beside her sister on the bed.

  “Fine. Don’t tell me,” she said firmly. “But answer me this: Who is coming, Cam? Who is coming to claim the Crown?”

  Cam’s brows furrowed. “The Savior of-”

  Adria shook her head. “No, who, among our enemies, is coming to take the Crown? Cam, who are our enemies?”

  Cam’s eyes squeezed shut, her head throbbing. “Leviathan, the Shadow Bearers, the Shedim, Lucius…everyone under Lucius…”

  She opened her eyes and said, “The legions of the Fallen Prince. The ruler of this realm is coming, Cam.”

  “Youhave said…” Adria repliedslowly, “in thestories that the evil ones come from other worlds teeming with shadow and despair but...but Lucius came from Caelae, the world of light. How is it that he wanted to leave?”

  “I ask myself the same question every day. Why would I have wanted to leave Medulla for the rest of Mirabelle when it was threaded with shadow and despair?”

  “Because you knew there was something more for you in the world,” Adria said softly. “Something I am still searching for.”

  Cam saw the slight glazing over her sister’s eyes, saw the emotion bubbling beneath the surface of her expression. “You wanted to belong in Imber Fel, didn’t you?”

  “Badly,” Adria whispered. “So badly it was in my blood and bones.”

  “But you can still heal, Cam. You can still learn, and you can still find somethingmorein theworldthat weall search for.”

  Adria’s lips lifted in a small, appreciative smile and returned to what they had just been speaking about. “But Lucius did not leave Caelae because he knew there was something more before him, right? He left because he had everything and nothing and reached for more and could not grasp it.”

  “And was thus banished to this world.” Cam sighed, her expression turning sober. “And is now searching for the Crown as he has been doing for a long time.”

  “But first he must find us. The Keepers of the Crown.”

  Fiera had barely listened to the chatter of the court around her.

  She had eaten slowly, her thoughts turning every now and then to Cam and Peter who were both not present. He hadn’t even returned yet. “Probably trying to think of a way to survive

  Cam’s wrath,” she surmised. But she thought again. “No, my wrath. Cam will be broken and will rise again. But I will be breaking him.”

  Her thoughts were turned only when a burble of laughter drifted across the table. John, the young prince, with his drool covered chin, was giggling helplessly at Caleb who was making faces.

  Her lips tilted upward in a small smile and grew wider when Caleb caught her gaze. He smiled back and used his one hand to tickle the prince’s tummy or torso. The baby giggled again and flung a piece of whatever slop he was eating. It landed right in Caleb’s eyes. Caleb cringed, and Fiera laughed outright, not being able to contain the sound. No one turned in alarm as they might have once done in Medulla. No, they were laughing too.

  Caleb used his hand to swipe the food from his eye. The baby was staring with a wide smile at him. Fiera’s eyes drifted to the end of his arm which ended in a stump, and her smile faded. It had been so long. So long since they had hunted together. Since Caleb had hunted at all.

  She returned her attention to her food. Tonight it was some dish comprised of fresh fish, seasoned greens, and meat oozing out of shells. The portions were not overly abundant. It was rare, as Fiera noticed, that Elizabeth held elaborate meals. Rather, they ate the same amount that those in the villages did at their meals.

  Fiera’s thoughts took another turn as she swirled the brothy fish around on her plate.

  Fiera still had the painted wooden ball within her baggage. She hadn't glanced at it since learning the meaning behind it. “The assassin must have decided against killing Terra. Unless...unless he had deliberately led her into the Shadow Prison.” She and Cam were certainly not the ones wishing to kill her.

  So that would leave... but it couldn’t be.

  Fiera’s eyes were wide as they swept from her plate to view Caleb who was now speaking to a man on his right. Her fork fell to her plate with a clang. Only a few eyes turned to her at the sound. Quickly, she recomposed herself. Her stomach twisted.

  “What the hell is wrong with everyone?” She gritted her teeth. “Owen, Peter, Caleb...stupid males! No, it wasn’t him...he is good and would never...and...” Her stomach churned. “But I don’t know him. I don’t know anything about him…”

  Fiera was the first to leave the dining hall. She pressed herself

  against the wall in the corridor and took deep breaths. “In, out. In, out.” She swiped her hands down the glittering sweep of her black dress. The lace sleeves reached to her wrists where her fingers were now curling into fists. She waited until all the court had exited, Caleb being the last before she stepped forward.

  Caleb handed the baby over to Simeon before he appeared in full view of Fiera. His tall form walked towards her, and a smile was lighting his lips and eyes. He had worn a smart uniform of black and deep purple. His bronze hair had been swept to the side, having been carefully combed.

  Fiera felt suddenly nervous. Her heart thundered. How would she ask him? She cared far too much...

  When he was close to her, his lips were parted as if he were about to speak, but she ceased his words by wrapping a hand around his neck and pulling him close. Her lips closed over his. A surprised gasp filled her mouth, and she wasn’t sure if it was her or him who had made the sound. At first, he seemed wholly surprised, his mouth still over her own, but when his lips began to mold to hers, his hand grasped at her waist. One of her hands trailed into his hair while the other grasped at his collar, pulling him closer.

  She wanted to believe for one moment that he was a good person, that he was all she had come to know and that they would always be close. S
he wanted to kiss him...just once before she tore him apart to find the truth.

  Fiera’s back hit the wall, and Caleb’s hand left her waist to brace above her head. Her hands found his neck, jawline, and the sides of his face. He groaned, the noise rumbling into her core.

  As if coming to her senses, she jerked her mouth away. She panted, and a flush swept across her neck and cheeks. Her hands braced against his chest as if to touch him or push him away. She did not know.

  “Where did that come from?” he huffed, his eyes still widened and lips swelling. “I mean, that was great and all but…”

  “Where did you come from?” Fiera breathed.

  “Why, from the stars themselves,” Caleb replied with a flutter of his fingers against her arm. His eyes sparkled until he saw that she was staring, her eyes serious and wandering. His brows knitted as he said, “Wh-where do you want to talk?”

  Fiera glanced over his shoulder at an open door, but before he could glance behind him, she fumbled in the folds of her dress until her fingers found the rough exterior of a wooden sphere.

  Slowly, she edged herself from the wall, his warmth receding from her and leaving her chilled. Her steps felt uneven as she made her way across the wall. She cupped the sphere between both her palms.

  Fiera entered slowly, part of her still trembling. Caleb was behind her. The room was warm, for there was a fire blazing in the hearth. Fiera heard the door shut.

  “Fi…” he began. He did not finish. She turned and pressed the sphere into his hand. “What-” Caleb’s words died as he saw what he was holding.

  His face fell, crestfallen. “You…”

  Fiera sniffed so as to keep the tears in her eyes and leaned against the door with her arms folded across her chest. “I found it the day I met you,” she said with a sad smile. “Right before we found Terra hiding out at Owen’s house and before the ball started. I didn’t know what it meant until Silva...but...maybe it's better that you explain.”

  Caleb’s mouth had dropped and so had the ball. It rolled to the floor as he slumped onto a sofa. He hunched over with his hand raking through his hair. He looked absolutely miserable. “You aren't going to kill me?” Both were surprised at how calm Fiera appeared. Inside, she felt blazing fire coursing through her veins. But there was also ice to melt the flames.

  “That depends on your explanation.”

  Caleb leaned back against the sofa, his arm falling limply into his lap. “Do youremember when I told you about the village burning and my escape across the seas?” Fiera nodded. “There is more to the story than what I have told you.”

  He took a deep, controlled breath. “I haven't told anyone any of this since…” He shook his head as if to rid his mind of some unwanted thought. Fiera stepped forward a few steps, suddenly more interested.

  “We were poor. My father spent all our savings on his drinking and gambling in the taverns. My mother resorted to prostitution after my sister was born. Pearl, my sister, and Azael, my twin, and I ran the streets. We drifted from one small gang to the next, hardly cared for and only present until we were no longer useful. We didn’t do much harm, mind you. We stole, of course. We stole from drunken thieves who had a tendency to beat their wives and children, and we survived. But then we were found…” Caleb’s eyes were fixated on the fire.

  Fiera could see the imagery as he spoke. A cobblestone street flanked by makeshift cottages and taverns overflowing with madmen and drunks alike. Several barefoot children darting around the square, chasing each other for the stolen goods.

  “Theman who foundus was headofa school ofsomesort where they trained young people, like I was at the time, to be assassins. To ‘make their way up in this world.’ I was fourteen at the time. He took me and my brother. We wouldn't let Pearl in. She was only a little girl then. At first, he only taught us to throw knives properly, how to hunt with skill, how to skin and cook our game. But...eventually, it grew worse.”

  Caleb swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. His eyes were burning with the memory, growing glazed with pictures of his past.

  “He...he slit open our fingertips and made us work with blades until they healed. He broke bones of our dominant hand and made us learn to use the other. He...would hit us enough that our eyes would swell so we could learn to navigate the village with every sense but our sight…”

  Fiera’s hand was at her mouth, and Caleb’s knees were bouncing with the fury boiling inside of him. “And the others...the others my age...they killed without a second thought. Of course, they were intoxicated, but that was no excuse. If one of them failed to clean up after their kill, they were beaten mercilessly by this man. The man he...he bought and traded and stole substances that became addictive to those who consumed them. Substances that created reactions and affects harmful and at times, fatal. My brother...my twin...he would foam at the mouth and grow purple in the face and say it was all nothing.”

  “Caleb…” Fiera started softly, her face warming with her own growing anger at merely hearing the story.

  “I began to be curious as to where this man came from. My brother followed him, discovered he was in league with Shadow Bearers, and he told me. The next morning…” His voice dropped to a choked whisper. “We found his body ripped into shreds on the doorstep of our cottage.”

  Fiera’s gasp was uttered aloud. Caleb’s eyes were glazed with tears. “He was my best friend, you know. And because I feared for the life of my sister, I promised to do anything for the man who had killed him. On my fifteenth birthday, he gave me my assignment. He gave me a message in a wooden ball, told me what it meant and related orders that I was to board a ship to Mirabelle the next morning.”

  Caleb leaned forward as he dragged a hand down his face. His knee bounced as he continued. “I told him I couldn't leave. I told him to have me kill someone else in the vicinity, but he refused. I returned home with a throbbing arm where he had fractured a bone and another where he had cut it from shoulder to elbow and left me to stitch it up myself. I did not hear from him for two weeks. I thought he had gone away. Hoped he would never return for me. But hedidindeeddrivemeawayin theend.”

  “When your village was set fire to,” Fiera murmured. Her own tears were streaming over her cheeks. The ache in her chest was too great…

  Caleb lifted his gaze. “I haven't seen any of them since. I boarded a ship, came to Mirabelle, and by the grace of a passing soldier of the south, was taken to Cinis Lumen. I became a part of Mirabelle on my sixteenth birthday. I already knew how to kill, wield weapons and all that. Tyron was quite impressed with me and insisted that I stay. He never asked me where I had come from. Never asked me about my past. Just...accepted me for who I wanted to become. And when I asked about the Spirit Followers, he told me. He told me everything he knew about Elyon until I met Elyon myself and knew I was saved.

  “I kept that message and that wooden ball with me for whatever insanely stupid reason. It was only until I decided to visit Medulla two years later that I disregarded it. I chose to leave it behind.”

  “Did you know Terra was the one you were sent to kill when you saw her?” Fiera choked out.

  Caleb nodded, tears finally falling from his eyes. It brought back pain...so much pain to see her. And you cannot know how much it broke me when she died…”

  “Why did they want to kill her!?” Fiera burst out.

  “How did some man in a country across the sea want her dead?”

  “It wasn’t the man who wanted her dead, Fiera,” Caleb replied with earnest as he bounded up from his seat. “It was the...thing...inside of him. Whatever was possessing him that told me to find her. I think...that Silva’s operation was far more expansive than we ever thought it to be. I think she had servants in Caranthia too...or Leviathan had them...or whatever the case may be. But they knew Terra had to be eradicated eventually or she would talk. At some point, she would have told your home realm and perhaps Mirabelle of their treachery!”

  Fiera swallowed a rising so
b. “Do you think that the person following us from the Royalty Realm to Imber Fel was following us to kill Terra? Do you think that Silva allowing Terra to join us was a plot to have her killed all along?”

  “Possibly,” Caleb replied. “She did not seem very surprised or remorseful when we told her about her own daughter’s passing.”

  Fiera had another thought. “At the time you were being sent to Mirabelle, Terra had already birthed Immanuel or was about to.”

  Caleb nodded. “So they had already exposed their plans to her then.”

  “And that wooden ball, Caleb...well, we were the only ones to use them. We made them years ago at Owen’s and his brother’s idea. We madethemfor a game, andonlyus, andOwen and his family, and...and Silva and Kazbek knew about them…” She trailed off.

  Caleb only nodded.

  And finally, Fiera’s hoarse voice said, “Did the thought of killing her ever cross your mind?”

  “No, because I knew that if I did, I would be just as corrupt as the one who had sent me to do it.” He took one stride and was before Fiera. His hand grazed her arm. She tensed but did not flinch away. Her hands rose to cover her tear stained cheeks and reddening eyes.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered.

  “Why didn't I tell you that I was sent to kill your sister? Because I thought you'd never know that about me...never see that side of me.”

  “I was bound to ask about your past eventually,” Fiera explained. “One does not fall in love with someone willingly without knowing where they come from and how they ended up the way they are.”

  Caleb’s expression faltered. A faint whisper of a smile ghosted his lips. “Fall in love?”