Carrion Crow

by Talis Jones

  “I need no escort,” interrupted Adrianna quickly.

  “But—”

  “No,” she insisted firmly. Sarai’s face flickered for a moment twitching between her giddy grin and a scowl at being so openly contradicted.

  “Fine, but you will not come alone. You may enter behind Addar and myself.”

  “As it pleases you,” she bowed. Adrianna knew she could not afford to cause any sort of rift between herself and the Crown but with this she would argue. One thing was for sure; she would not be flung off to the side to be some buffoon’s pretty arm-candy.

  The rest of the afternoon whirled by in a storm of fabric, scrubs, glosses, and gossip. The young maid with the task of styling Adrianna’s hair managed to turn the process into a torturous art form. At last with her scalp wincing from the brutal attack, she stood dressed head to toe in dark emerald Llyrian garb that hugged her figure in a soft embrace. A small gold ring was stabbed through her nose and linked by a dainty gold chain to an emerald earring pierced through her ear. Adrianna hadn’t seen the attack coming until it was too late. Either they hadn’t heard of clip-on earrings or they truly enjoyed bestowing pain upon her. Dark kohl rimmed her eyes and a deep shade of plum colored her lips.

  The silver moon rose as night caressed the sky in swaths of velvet darkness. Adrianna stood alone at her bedroom window awaiting to be summoned for the party. A sudden tink made her jump and she looked down to see a blackbird perched on the ledge outside of her window. Smiling gently she brushed a finger lightly over the glass as if stroking the feathered creature. A knock at the door spun her around. It was time.

  Their entrance into the ballroom went as expected, Prince Addar led the way with his arm linked with Crown Sarai’s as Adrianna walked softly in their wake trying not to wince at the nose piercing that definitely still throbbed. The room was packed with guests and revelry but what knocked the breath from her lungs was the room itself.

  The entire space had been utterly transformed. Tapestries and billowing fabrics hid the cold stone of the castle walls and ceiling. Plush seating sprinkled all around the room, each not more than a glance’s reach from a table leaden with drinks and food. Several seating areas sat beneath canopies where players could gather and try their hand at Queentia, a card game involving dice and a set of beaded wooden counters.

  Torches burned brightly giving the party a warm mysterious glow heightened by the delicate music that danced through the air in a soft minor key. Surrounded by burning scarlets, midnight sapphires, enchanted greens, and forgotten purples all dipped and wreathed with gold, Adrianna’s heart beat with the shadowy mysticism igniting the room. A high-toned golden bell rang thrice, each strike waiting for its predecessor’s echo to fade. Excited murmurs rippled through the crowd as they all made their way towards the modest, but intricate, stage at the end of the room. Crown Sarai claimed her seat at the front placing Addar and Adrianna on either side of her.

  When the room fell silent just long enough for furtive glances to be cast and the little hairs on ones neck and arms to prickle in wariness a thick velvety plume of purplish black smoke birthed upon center stage. As it writhed it grew taller, wider, and eventually took the form of a man. Just as it looked almost solid to touch the man opened his mouth and threw his arms wide in greeting but before his face could be seen an arrow was shot through his chest causing the figure to explode in a shower of harmless fireworks. The dazzling display earned several cheers and nervous chuckles as a steady applause overcame the room.

  “Spaseeba! Welcome to the celebration marking the birth of Prince Addar Waseem, son of Rajah Mulazim Waseem, ruler of the great state of Llyr! I am El Capitán and I shall be leading this entertaining performance tonight.” The voice boomed across the hall and everyone shifted to see a man with dark brown locks twisted by the salty sea air and skin weathered by the waves. Walking from the back of the room he parted the crowd effortlessly as if by magic with a stride that did not falter. Finally reaching the front he hopped up upon the stage allowing the focused torchlight to capture the golden threads stitched throughout his black clothing in intricate patterns. Throwing his arms wide just as the smoke figure had done he welcomed them but his eyes remained fixed upon the Crown’s.

  “Keep your loved ones close and your bags of gold closer,” he warned with a good-natured smile. “Leave one eye open and one eye shrewd for before you I begin a show of spectacle, dreams, and magic. Believe or believe not but heed my words true: with the mind wide open the thief may play freely but with the mind stubbornly locked shut the thief need not ever knock. The closer you look the less you will see, so cast your net wide and stay for the ride as I take you on a journey of thrills and impossible feats.”

  The room burst into excited applause but as Adrianna turned to Sarai with a smile she noticed the Crown had her eyes locked tight and cold upon the performer’s face. Curious she followed her stare and saw the man wink.

  “Who is he?” she whispered to Sarai.

  Through gritted teeth she answered, “Not who I invited to play.”

  Adrianna’s brow furrowed in confusion but shook the thoughts away. One could get easily lost in an endless maze when trying to decipher every word the Crown spoke. Turning her attention back to the stage the next hour was stolen from her as she became lost in the tricks and feats performed upon that carved wooden platform. Several other performers came on and off the stage joining in with this trick or that but they remained hidden behind masks. Some black, some white, but all with a small red feather falling from the left eye.

  The Captain flung powders, smoke, and rains of fire and light over the crowd adorning them with intoxicating scents and glorious colors. Acrobats spun through the air, contortionists bent themselves into impossible shapes, coins were pinched and (mostly) returned, several guests when touched by his words danced in the air or made silly gestures all to the audience’s delight. Performers and objects alike were vanished and summoned. Impossible bindings were cracked. Amusing secrets were summoned and voiced. Greater and more impossible than any Vegas show Adrianna sat with eyes wider than she ever thought physically possible. Believe or believe not he had said, well in that moment Adrianna smiled and chose to believe.

  The hour quickly approached and the crowd chanted his name “Captain! Capitán! Captain!” in protest but with a grand bow the Captain and his players vanished in a final display of golden fireworks and shimmering smoke. Music flared back to life and lulled the guests to their feet urging them to dance. The guests’ attentions now free of the Captain’s spellbinding performance quickly turned back to the abundant offerings of sustenance and games. Sarai and Addar took to the dance floor leaving Adrianna sniffing hopefully towards the nearest table that appeared to be glinting with sweet honey cakes and spiced saftglögg.

  “Might I ask for a dance, mi suverenyita?” a bold voice called as a thin hand snatched her arm.

  Turning to face the impertinent offender Adrianna managed to twist her arm out of his grip. “You can ask but the answer is no,” she replied coolly. Her eyes assessed his pinched features, his noticeably pompous nose high in the air, and the weak jaw that framed his pursed arrogant lips.

  A flash of anger slashed his dark eyes from her refusal. “Mi suverenyita, I fear you do not know who I am,” he began but Adrianna interrupted him at once.

  “You are right, I don’t know who you are and now I care even less.” Keeping her voice polite but cold she continued, “What I do know is that I will dance with whom I choose and that certainly does not include any brattish fool who dares talk down to me or seize my arm.”

  As if her every word had simply sailed past his ears he reached out and once more shackled his thin grip around her wrist pulling her towards him with a jerk. While his sudden yank almost made her stumble into his arms (as he surely intended it to) Adrianna had not been training over these past few months with nothing to show and so her feet stood planted firmly to the ground where she stood and with her free arm she gra
bbed his offending hand and pried it loose from her wrist flipping it while moving her freed arm to brace his shoulder resulting in a sniveling lord with a twisted arm near to breaking if he dared twitch a whisker.

  “You will treat me with respect, little nothus,” she hissed sharpening each word until it pierced with the finest point. Without blinking she released the man and he stumbled back into the festive crowd. She might act like a simple sweet friend around those who needed the façade but she’d be damned if she didn’t put a rogue stranger back in his place. A satisfied smile teasing her lips she turned and nearly smacked right into a tall figure dressed in simple black.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “My apologies, Leitfaden,” he offered with a bowed head.

  Adrianna squinted into his face and slowly recognition settled upon her. She had not seen this man in months, not since the day he left her upon the shores of Oneiroi watching her with the sun at his back turning him into naught but a calculating shadow. “Titus?” she asked hesitantly. The further past the finery and makeup the more certain she was and at once the impossible spectacle from before made sense. The magician was Titus, of course his tricks had seemed real as they probably were.

  “I’d like to speak with you, if I might,” he requested while his eyes roamed her face carefully.

  After a pause she nodded. “Lead the way.”

  Titus led them through the fringes of the crowd towards a lesser populated corner of the hall and beckoned her inside one of the canopies reserved for a Queentia game. Once Adrianna stepped inside and seated herself upon a velvet cushion curtains fell obscuring them from passersby. Titus settled opposite the girl.

  “I see you’re no less fierce than the day I met you,” he noted with a nod towards the poor lord she’d cowed. “Fiercer even, seeing as that was the prince’s cousin Jared Shashem. A close relation and a powerful man within the Llyrian borders.”

  “I fail to be impressed,” she replied calmly. Titus grinned. “What is it you wanted to speak to me about? Does it concern Geoffrey?” Suddenly butterflies pried loose in her stomach and nerves danced within her.

  “It concerns everyone. Indirectly.”

  “More of this vague information drawn out for dramatic effect where you talk talk talk yet say nothing?” challenged Adrianna crossing her arms with growing impatience. She stomped down on her fear, reigned in her curiosity, and with a steady eye waited in silence for Titus to speak his tale or be gone. Sometimes silence loosened tongues better than words. She waited.

  At last Titus’s narrowed eyes gave in with an inaudible sigh. “There is a prophecy that holds the fate of Oneiroi. It was recited by Israfil in a vision many years ago when a nameless woman gave birth to a set of twins. The woman requested the babes be separated far apart and Israfil’s vision confirmed the wisdom of it. One child, a girl, was taken aboard my ship and left upon a doorstep where she was received by a kindly painter and named Cassandra. The other child, a boy, I left upon the doorstep of a young nurse who chose not to keep him but gave him the name Geoffrey nonetheless.

  “The twins were prophesied to each be tested. One would throw this world into chaos and darkness and if so then the other must choose to restore order and light or follow their sibling’s path and rule side by side until death do them part. Cassandra, as you well know, fell to the darkness setting the prophesy into motion. The Whispers had but to prepare and to wait. And then that day at last arrived when I carried your brother aboard my ship and took him home.”

  Titus paused his story waiting for Adrianna to comment. “You are saying that Cassandra and Geoffrey are blood siblings?” she asked slowly. Titus nodded. With a slight laugh she replied, “It actually makes a bit of sense. They share the same green eyes and thirst for vengeance.”

  Leaning back in his seat Titus regarded the girl with great interest. “You are not shocked by this news?”

  “Shocked? Not really. I had no idea of course, but I don’t feel shocked.” She shrugged and turned her face towards the celebrations just beyond the curtains. “I learned rather quickly not to be shocked in this place. Just absorb the information, process it, then act accordingly. There is no room for shock.”

  “The future of this realm rests upon your brother’s shoulders,” emphasized Titus carefully.

  “Yes, I understood that bit,” she nodded still lost in thought. Finally turning her attention back upon the strange man before her she asked, “How might he fail?”

  “Most people would ask how to win.”

  Adrianna waved it away. “No one gives up the answers so easily, especially not you. What is often offered are rules for elimination. So I ask you, how might he fail?”

  “Your brother’s blood on the Crown’s hands will destroy them both. The Crown’s blood on your brother’s hands will condemn them just the same.”

  “I see,” pondered Adrianna softly. “Somehow they must be stopped without killing one another despite the fact that that is precisely all they want to do right now. Murdering one’s enemy is often the easiest solution and is clearly the path both have chosen…but to do so will end them…” Suddenly Adrianna’s eyes snapped up locking upon the Reaper’s. “Do they know this?” she asked sharply. “Do they know the consequences and ways in which they might fail?”

  Titus’s eyes praised the girl silently and his lips parted in an acquiescing smile. “No,” he admitted. “They do not. Unlike you they care only for winning.”

  “Then you must tell them,” she insisted although the words came out more like a question than a request.

  “I have visited them both and told them of their part in this play. Neither asked so neither were answered.”

  “Wait, but they’re Whispers. They can’t be killed.” Her face twisted between puzzlement and fragile hope.

  “Who said anything about killing? The attempt is enough. A splash of blood drawn with murderous intent is all it takes.”

  The girl sighed in frustration. “Why are you here, Titus? Why are you telling me all of this? Is it only because I am Geoffrey’s sister?”

  “It is precisely because you are his sister, though not by blood,” he confirmed. “The prophecy speaks of a twin bringing back a companion traveler. A person whom can guide the twins back into balance if needed. Cassandra’s companion failed and when Eisen begged for you to accompany him to Oneiroi you became that person. Companion. Guide. Leitfaden. You must take Eisen and Feuer in hand and shape them.”

  “Who knew I was so important,” Adrianna laughed sardonically under her breath.

  “Oh you were insignificant, until your brother chose his path,” Titus assured her tonelessly.

  “Wow. Thanks,” she groused.

  “Oneiroi finds itself captured by two warring heroes. Feel it calling you to guide them.”

  “I’m not sure I can,” Adrianna confessed.

  “Then why do you remain?” he questioned. “Why not leave this place and seek safety? There have been numerous opportunities for you to do so.”

  “Because—” Adrianna chewed her lip unsure of her words. “I can’t just stand there like an idiot and allow my friends to kill each other. I might not have many uses but that does not mean I am willing to be useless.”

  Titus smiled and leaned forwards to pat her knee in an almost fatherly fashion. “You will regret that decision.” He leaned back with a sigh. “Remain firm, little Leitfaden. Do not leave the Crown’s side. You will be needed there when battle strikes.” Standing he made to leave but paused, his hand resting upon the gap in the curtains. “Curious, if Cassandra had not heard the prophecy before her twin it might have been him that put us all in this trial,” mused Titus.

  Adrianna frowned. “I don’t believe that.”

  He shrugged. “Believe or believe not but heed my words: Agere sequitur credere. We act according to what we believe ourselves to be. And they both seem to believe rather similar things.”

  As he made to leave her words rushed out desperate for anything el
se he could give her. “Stay by the Crown’s side? What does that mean, Titus? What if she finds me out? What then?”

  He paused. “If your brother succeeds in killing the Crown then you will be honor-bound to kill him in turn. The Island will not let this go on any further.”

  “No,” she snapped. “I’ll run.”

  “You’ll die.” Titus held her gaze steady. “I warn you, Cassandra’s companion failed to stop her and you hardly know how he’s paid for it.”

  Left alone inside the dim space Adrianna sat a moment to gather her thoughts but the once muted music quickly permeated the thin fabric in Titus’ absence. Taking a deep breath she carefully arranged her features into a soft smile that hid any concern for anything more worrisome than missing out on all this party had to offer. In one graceful swoop she departed the game tent and wandered the room’s edges once more.

  Not a few moments later a young man that looked to be around her age stepped up before her. He had a farm-built frame, soft blue eyes, and rosy blond hair combed back in military fashion. With a slight bow he asked in the musical accent of Ireland, “Might I have a dance with you, Adrianna?”

  Adrianna’s eyebrows lifted in brief surprise but took his hand accepting the offer of a dance. “I’ve been practicing but I warn you I’m not very good.”

  He smiled. “You won’t step on my toes even if you try.” At her quizzical gaze he leaned forwards and whispered lightly in her ear, “I’m a Whisper, Adrianna.”

  She startled then quickly hid her surprise with a roll of her eyes. “Of course you are. Do you know my brother? Or Jack?” she asked quietly.

  “I do.”

  With skeptical eyes she wondered, “Why are you here?”

  “You could not possibly believe either would leave you here unguarded?” he frowned.

  “Of course not,” she muttered looking away a bit frustrated…and relieved. “I’m grateful to you,” she added suddenly apologetic and kicking herself for her rudeness. “I just wish they’d told me.”