Keepers of the Crown

by Lydia Redwine

  Fiera’s expression remained grave. “I-I need time to think about all of this…”

  “Of course,” Caleb said softly. He stepped away from her just enough so she could no longer feel his warmth. Fiera looked as though she was prepared to leave. But before she did this, she bent to the floor and picked up the wooden ball. She stepped away from Caleb and towards the fire. She held Caleb’s glazed stare as she dropped it into the dancing flames.

  “One more question,” she said. Her gaze had hardened. “Why wouldyou go to a god, to Elyon, if Helet all of those things happen to you?”

  Caleb’s smile was sad but full of light. His eyes glowed. “Because He saved me. Elyon allowed that man to choose. He chose wrong. It’s not Elyon’s fault. It’s ours. It…” he swallowed. “It was mine. For joining.”

  Fiera didn’t know what to say. All she could think ofwas, “You lied to us. To Cam and me. About your sister dying in the Spirit Follower rebellion. She didn’t, did she?”

  “No,” Caleb said. “No, my sister was thrown into the ocean, never to be seen again.”

  Fiera nodded, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. She left before anything else could be said.

  “And they made His grave with the wicked and with a rich man in his death, although He had done no violence, and there was no deceit in His mouth.”

  -Prophecy of the Savior’s death, words of Elyon to the Sixth Prophet, and Song of the Watchers

  Forty-Seven

  Cam’s constant swirl of thoughts surrounding Peter ceased

  only when she arose the next morning and found Fiera wrapped in a woolen blanket before an empty hearth. She glanced through the windows which had swung open to allow a rare warm air of this place drift through. “So why isn’t she out hunting?”

  “You don’t look like you had much sleep,” Cam said instead. She spoke quietly as she sat beside her sister.

  Fiera turned an eye on Cam. “You’re one to talk.” Cam had no reply. It was true. The dark circles beneath her eyes and her heavily mussed hair displayed very well her constant turning in bed the night before. But her head was feeling better. At least she wasn’t as bruised as before. But the ache in her chest…

  And her mind still flashed the images. All those Shadow Bearers… “Howlate were youat court last night?” Cam inquired, cutting into her own thoughts.

  “Late,” was Fiera’s short reply. After many silent moments in which the only sounds came from the street and wharf just outside, Fiera finally said, “I found the assassin sent to kill Terra.”

  Cam’s jaw dropped, her skin beginning to tingle with anticipation. She had long since forgotten that. And now she saw Silva’s face, heard the words she had spoken. She tried to say something, anything to prod Fiera to speak more, but her throat was too dry, her shock too immense. But as Fiera continued, Cam found that she hadn’t dreamed the words her sister had spoken.

  Cam listened. Intently. Her eyes glazed with tears as Fiera choked over the story. The boy, Caleb’s twin, ripped to shreds of flesh and blood on his own doorstep. And the village...all those people burned to force one person to leave, to commit a crime he never truly intended to carry out. And she had died anyway. Cam gripped the edge of the table before her. “No,” she uttered in a hoarse whisper. She swallowed hard. “How did I never think to ask Caleb more about who he was?”

  Fiera was shaking her head and staring emptily before her. “I don’t know, Cam. We were stupid. Both of us.”

  “Are you going to the ball tonight, then?” Cam asked at last when silence had passed between them for a lengthy period of time. Long enough that day was in its full bloom.

  Fiera had forgotten all about the ball as her expression revealed. She smiled slightly. “If you and Adria will dance with me. I liked it when we did so at your Royalty ball.”

  Cam, too, felt her lips tugging upward. Until she remembered Peter and their first dance together on that same night and the stiffness they had first experienced between them. She doubted that he would be there tonight, that he would be able to face her. “Coward,” she thought.

  “Elizabeth told me last night that they have dresses we can use since our evacuation from Mirabelle didn't exactly allow time for packing ball gowns,” Fiera said. “We could go up there soon and see what they have. Lia said she would like to help”

  Cam smiled. “Good. I haven’t checked in on Lia, to make sure we are still friends after everything that’s happened.”

  “You mean when she sided with Owen about you being Silva’s killer and then was against you when you wanted to wipe Owen’s memory?”

  Cam’s expression sobered, but she nodded. Yes, there was a lot to forgive Lia for. But she couldn't blame her. Not really. Not when Lia was permitted to have reasons of her own. But they should fix things. After all, Lia had been one of her main allies during Apollyon’s revolt in Mirabelle.

  “You go ahead. Take Adria with you. I want more alone time for now,” Cam said aloud.

  Fiera frowned slightly. “You can’t spend all your time locked up in here.”

  “I know, I know. I’m going to see my father today. I haven't seen him in a day or two.” Fiera nodded and departed soon after with Adria and Amelia with her.

  Cam was just turning into the kitchen when a light knock sounded on the cottage door. She placed the pot containing her midday meal back onto the embers in the coal stove and trudged towards the door. The air was surprisingly breezy instead of chilling when the door had swung open to reveal a male figure standing just beyond.

  Peter was clenching his hands together in front of him. His dark hair had been windblown to the side, and he was redfaced. Trying to catch his breath. He swallowed hard, his eyes wavering.

  Cam’s heart thundered. What wouldshesay? Shewent to slam the door, but he was too quick.

  “Cam, wait,” he said firmly. “Let me explain!”

  “Explain what?” she spat as she widened the door ever so slightly.

  “Explain why I’ve done what I’ve done. And I will apologize, too, for taking so long to tell you. Except...I didn't tell you. I didn't want youto findout that way!”Peter burst out. “And furthermore, I had to face you even after you found me. I can not be a coward in your eyes. Maybe a lowly, stupid, rash boy, but I can’t be a coward...” He panted, his breath still coming short. He must have run here.

  He had stolen the words right from her mouth. She had thought those words not too long ago. Lowly, stupid, rash boy. “Fine,” she said at last. She opened the door enough for him to enter and closed it with more firmness than she had intended. She did not stand before him but vaulted for the kitchen to continue making her meal.

  “Have you told your father?” Peter asked hesitantly. He did not meet Cam’s sharp gaze.

  “No, but somehow, someway, he has found out,” she replied curtly. She remembered his face the previous morning. He had appeared gaunt, his eyes far off. She had not asked, but she would soon. She had no doubt, as did Peter, that Cole would feel far more betrayed than even she. “My father raised you to be better.”

  “W-we can’t just....wait here for something to happen, Cam. We can not just simply keeptheCrown.I’vehadthisfeeling that we’ve only just begun the most dangerous part of this entire quest to protect the Crown and Immanuel,” Peter began in a rather exasperated tone.

  “What has that to do with anything?” Cam replied with a more thawed tone. She stirred the food in her bowl, its steamy aroma lifting into her nostrils. But it only made her feel sick now.

  “Everything. I...contacted the Shadow Bearers of that realm to act as spies. They are going to spy on that ship named Leviathan and try to decipher what the enemy’s next plan is. If Nazeria is to be attacked…”

  “And why would they? How large is the enemy, anyway? What armies does he command?”

  Peter shook his head. “I don’t have numbers! But I do know this, Cam: Lucius is extremely clever, and he will stop at nothing to get the Crown. And if he discovers Immanuel is with
us…”

  “For all he knows, Immanuel hasn't been born yet,” Cam said with a sigh.

  “Exactly.”

  “H-h-how did you even get them to meet you? How was it that they haven’t killed you?” Cam stammered.

  Peter’s face was hard and calm when he said, “Because no one walks in before them and expects to come out alive. I went in knowing the risks, Cam. And because I risked their vengeance, and they knew, they found that I was desperate. I went to them...when we were in the Black Mountains. Before we came here.”

  Cam couldn’t believe it. But yet, it made sense. “So that’s why you vanished for a day. I thought you were just moping about whatever the hell happened to you in Mingroth.”

  Hurt flickered in his eyes, and Cam watched him swallow the ache she had caused with her own guilt now blooming in her chest. “I shouldn’thavebroughtupMingroth. None ofus should use it to hurt one another.”

  She began to open her mouth, to say sorry, but Peter was speaking again. “The Shadow Bearers of the Air are just like the ones in Mingroth, Cam. Trapped. Broken. Wanting rescue. And they will help us to get it.”

  Silence passed between them. Cam didn’t want to think about the Shadow Bearers of Mingroth who were most likely still festering there. “So these Shadow Bearers...what have you proposed to them in return for their...spy ventures?” Cam avoided Peter’s gaze as she continued to stir her food unnecessarily.

  Her own deal with a Shadow Bearer came to mind, pricking her heart with guilt. The deal she had made to trade Peter for information. “I’m no better than he is…”

  “A vow to leave them be in their homeland. It is all they want.” Peter scratched the back of his neck. He seemed calmer now. “They are weak, low in number and sick of being pulled on by different sides. They thought that they could rise again under Apollyon, but they were wrong and do not wish to risk losing so many of their kind again. Which will happen if Lucius comes for them through Leviathan for their allegiance. ”

  “How do you know this?”

  “Well, I asked them,” Peter said with a shrug. “Those particular Shadow Bearers are not...evil. They just want to be left alone. And they did everything they could to become that way. It killed most of them.” He paused to watch Cam stir. Hastily, she returned her bowl to the embers and folded her arms across her chest. “I theorize that they also want some revenge on Leviathan for leading so many of their kind to their deaths.”

  Cam surveyed him with narrowed eyes. “But it was Elyon that killed them. I saw it, Peter, even when I didn’t believe there was any sort of god controlling anything. So if Elyon is good, why would He kill that many beings who are not entirely...evil?”

  Peter sighed as he dragged a hand through his hair. “Because they are Shadow Bearers. Because they made the choice to join Apollyon anyway. Because they were defying Elyon in the process as a whole. They joined a regime to exterminate Elyon’s followers. I think that is enough reason for Him to exterminate them.”

  Cam nodded, understanding. But she had another countering question. “And what if those Shadow Bearers bring the enemy down upon our heads? What if their defiance against Leviathan will only kindle the rage of our enemies?”

  “What if they are not found? It is not as if I told them we have the Crown and the Savior under our protection!”

  “But if they are in league with Leviathan and his master, they will tell him of your deal. That will then prompt the enemy to wonder why you would send spies after them in the first place!” Cam exclaimed. “We want them to think that we are done. That all we wanted were our people back and peace!”

  Peter looked taken aback at first. Then realization and agreement flooded his expression. He stumbled until his back hit the wall. Cam was trying her best to contain a rush of tears. “They...they aren’t in league with him. I promise! Th-they want nothing more than to cast their vengeance on him.” Peter said with an exasperated tone as he raked a hand through his hair, but Cam could see her own argument deteriorating his confidence.

  “You should have spoken to me first,” Cam stated as she plunked her bowl onto the counter. “You aren’t the only one concerned with the welfare of our people.”

  Peter’s gaze flicked to hers. “Cam…” he started.

  She slowly met his gaze.

  “You can’t tell me that?”

  “Tell you what?” she said coldly.

  “Tell me what I should be telling you,” he replied, his voice softening yet still firm. “You got yourself addicted and told no one. You’ve made plans and told no one.”

  The words struck her deeply, and tears welled in her eyes. Anger welled with them. Peter continued as he slowly stepped toward her. “Look what keeping secrets did to Owen,” he said in a voice which was nearly a whisper.” He shrugged. “In a way, we worked together without telling each other why we were there.”

  “For our people,” cam choked out, but she knew that rescuing the hostages from Mingroth had never been their only intention. She could see them all now. For Peter, it was Leviathan andhis father’s past. For Owen, it was a chanceto find Terra again. For Ilea it was the Savior. For her and for Fiera…

  She shoved the dead queen’s face out of her mind. Peter was right. And she hated it.

  Cam froze as he came so close she could smell and feel the warmth radiating off of him. “Forgive me, Cam,” he said softly. “I just...we have to...make a move. Do something.” She dared to glance up into his sincere expression. His eyes were glazed. He swallowed hard. She only nodded slowly after a second of tense silence. She felt empty. An inner conflict battled in her brain. She had waited too long to forgive Riah. “And now he’s dead,” she thought. She didn’t want to wait too long to forgive Peter, but if his plan didn’t go the way they hoped it would, they would also be dead.

  Cole’s face was grave, his hands still around the cup of tea Cam

  had slid across the table to him. “Say something,” she murmured. “Anything.” Cole shook his head. “He’s grown distant from me. A son who has drifted away. I haven't been able to read him since you returned to Mirabelle.”

  “He encountered Leviathan...in Mingroth,” Cam replied. Cole nodded. “I had guessed.” He stared at his cup of tea. “What happened?”

  “I am not sure,” she said softly. “I only know that Peter

  thought the Shadow Bearer to be dead. And then he wasn’t. He

  felt like Elyon had betrayed him…”

  Cole’s laugh was sharp. “We all feel that at times, but it is

  our own selfdeception that leads us to that conclusion.” Finally,

  Cam’s father lifted his blue-eyed gaze to meet hers. The eyes that

  matched her own. It was their main similarity. Otherwise, she

  was the spitting image of her mother as she had been told many

  times. But her skin held the paleness of her father and the rich

  brown she knew her mother’s complexion had held. “They’re coming, aren’t they? Lucius and his legions.” Cole nodded and finally sipped his tea. “They want what

  Apollyon wanted. To rid the world of our kind even though

  Lucius knows that we will remain through every age.” “That is why the choosing began in Mirabelle all those

  years ago.”

  Cole nodded. “To make it so that Spirit Followers would

  eventually be forced to reproduce with those that did not share their beliefs, ultimately creating divided families. And the symbol of the dove inked on our skin...that came before the rebellion even when Spirit Followers would leave their homeland

  and search for allies in other realms.”

  Cam nodded, the realization sinking into her brain. “Is

  that why…” She trailed off, not sure how to phrase her words. “Why what?” Cole asked.

  “Well,” Cam began, “I’ve been wondering why I never

  knew much about anything outside of Mirabelle. Hell, I didn’t

  even know Nazeria was a
mining nation. I just knew it to be a

  place...and I knew there were other places. But I never knew

  anything about those places. I was never taught…”

  “And you’re wondering if trying to keep the Spirit

  Followers from multiplying was part of that?” Cam nodded. As

  did Cole. “You could be right. But I think most of it comes down

  to who you were raised by. And, Cam...I am sorry for that. For…”

  Cole trailed off and swallowed around the visible lump in his

  throat. His voice was hoarse. “I am not sorry for giving you up,

  but that I gave you to the wrong people.”

  Cam smiled. An ache grew in her chest. “But you didn’t

  give me to the wrong people. Fiera, Terra, Adria, Mista, Marcus

  Briar. They weren’t wrong for me. And Amelia was there. You

  knew, too, didn’t you? Who Silva was? Because you knew

  Daniel.”

  Cole nodded slowly.

  Cam changed the subject. “What are you going to do?

  About Peter?”

  Her father drew in a deep sigh. “I will forgive him, Cam.

  Forgive and pray to Elyon in the name of Immanuel with the

  power of Ruach vested within me that my son has not brought

  our enemy down upon our very heads.” Cam peered into her

  father’s gaze, her own tears matching those welling in his eyes. Silence passed between them as his words clanged

  through Cam’s skull. “Forgive him.”

  “What does that even mean?” she thought.

  “And I have a question for you, Cam,” Cole was saying

  softly. Cam lifted her questioning gaze which turned when she realized that his question had nothing to do with Peter or the

  Crown or anything they had discussed when he had come over. “The queen,” her father began, “has ceased serving wine

  at her meals. She says the barrels in the cellars have been

  damaged. But, the interesting part is, she has not seemed at all

  upset about the matter. In fact, she has spoken about it with