Carrion Crow

by Talis Jones

  “Careful,” growled Jack, although secretly he agreed.

  “I haven’t seen Nox,” confessed Adrianna, worry tingeing her words as she chewed her frowning bottom lip. “You don’t suppose…?”

  Jack shook his head. “No, Seamus would have told me. Perhaps they’ve simply kept him occupied with other tasks. They don’t tell me everything,” he narrowed his eyes, “although they should.”

  “And Seamus?” argued Eisen. “Is he such a coward that he wouldn’t help you no matter what Abel or the others told him?”

  “He escorts me to and from the entertaining hall,” she told them. “He’ll help me when it’s time, but for now he watches over me silently. I can handle myself, thank you very much.”

  Eisen muttered some rather unsavory words underneath his breath. Jack hushed his raging mind and sighed, “Well, we’re here now. Change, pack what you need, we’ll head out at once.”

  She blinked. Jack watched his heart stutter then harden, bend then stand, sigh then…

  “No.”

  His pulse danced as he struggled to comprehend the very simple word she spoke.

  “Adri, please—”

  “I’m not finished here, Fenwick.”

  “What are you talking about? She knows, Adri! There’s nothing left for you to do here!” Jack huffed frustrated and terrified. He couldn’t leave her here again. She shouldn’t have stayed to begin with. “Tell her, Eisen. You’re her brother, reason with her.”

  “I can’t do that, Jack.”

  Jack looked at him dumbfounded. “I’m sorry, but I thought you were the one who’s been spending his every living moment on this island trying to protect his sister.”

  “I need her to stay. She knows that.”

  “That’s bullshit,” he rumbled outraged. “You don’t need her here anymore. You didn’t need her here in the first place. If you’re so desperate to have someone on the inside then use Seamus. He’s close with Melanthios so he can get you just as solid information as Adrianna. Take. Her. Home.” Jack had brought down tougher men than Eisen with the darkness frosting his gaze and yet the boy did not move.

  Eisen took a deep breath then held his sister’s hand. “Adri, is there anything else you can do here or would you like to leave with us?”

  Adrianna teetered on the spot, exhaustion slowly catching up with her. “She keeps me closer than a coin purse now that she’s deemed me a traitor. I attend all her council meetings. She doesn’t think you can enter the castle with your magic since you’ve never stepped foot inside before.” She tilted her head, curious. “Except that you did.”

  “Adri,” croaked Jack. “Please come with me.”

  “What can you tell us?” pushed Eisen.

  “Addar’s seat on the throne will hardly have time to grow warm. She’s been grooming certain political powers in Llyr to control the throne. The moment Addar left Mordréda she began putting each play into action and soon he’ll be disposed of, replaced with someone whose allegiance is solely hers. She’d never just let him walk away and simply hope he wouldn’t turn his army against her. Even with me as a threat. You need to warn Addar and move quickly if you wish to use his army.”

  Eisen nodded accepting her news. His brow furrowed in thought as plans already began to form and pieces shifted upon the chessboard.

  “Of less immediate importance,” Adrianna continued. “Cassandra has had her council working tirelessly on the construction of the Crown’s palace. She's planted it in the heart of Oneiroi so she can guard all her treasure with ease. I’ve mentioned this to you before, unless Nox sent that news to the Whispers instead. Designers, architects, and builders have been working overtime to meet the Crown’s desired deadline. In fact, it’s already a third completed, not counting the decorative stonework to be done.” Adrianna shrugged. “It’s not a particularly important bit of news, but it simply struck me as interesting just how dedicated Cassandra is with the project.”

  “Interesting,” Eisen agreed and a slow mischievous smile lit his face.

  “Oh, one more thing. Do you know who Christophe Ammon is?”

  “Wasn’t he Dismas’ last advisor?” Jack offered.

  “Yes,” she mused. “He’s Sarai’s advisor now, as you know, but I just find him…unsettling. I don’t trust him.”

  “Nor should you,” dismissed Eisen.

  Adrianna frowned. “I mean it. He keeps his cards close to his chest but I just feel like he’s hiding something…”

  “If I have time I’ll look into it,” her brother promised, but his mind already spun over a web of ideas. “I can take you with us, but with Llyr on our side we’re ready to strike. You can feed the Crown false intel on our attack, you can keep her distracted while we make our first move.”

  Jack remained silent but his gaze spoke heavily of his disapproval.

  “I just can’t stand to be useless,” she apologized softly.

  “Dead is useless, Adri,” he countered angrily before turning away.

  Sensing their time together was dwindling, Adrianna moved towards her brother and hugged him tightly. Quietly, so only he could hear, she told him, “You know, Geoffrey, I’ve had a lot of people tell me I wouldn’t do anything worth mentioning in life. I hope I can help you see why you shouldn’t ever listen to those voices.”

  A moment hung in silence save for a gust of wind striking the window with a wail. Then in a voice just as quiet he parried, “Yeah, but what if it’s just one voice, Adri? What if it’s just mine?”

  She buried her face in his shoulder then pushed herself away. He held her tightly but she made him let go, moving just out of arm’s reach. “Promise me you will come back. I’ll stay for you, Geoffrey, but I won’t stay forever.”

  He nodded solemnly. “I swear it, sister. It’s almost finished.”

  She smiled sadly and then in a sudden rush her bones ached with exhaustion, her head wanting nothing more than to close her eyes and rest upon a pillow. Strong arms suddenly caught her tilting body and Jack carried her to her bed. Sitting on the edge he gently tucked her hair away from her face.

  “Please don’t stay,” he begged in hushed tones. “You’re not useless, Adri. You’re everything to me, don’t you understand? You’re everything.”

  With heavy lids she looked at him and smiled with such warmth that hummed through both as their hearts beat together in rhythm. “Don’t let him kill Cassandra,” she murmured. “And Fenwick? You’re my everything too.”

  Jack smiled at that, every worry and cold thought blown away by those few words. “Please come with me, Adri,” he begged again.

  With sleepy breaths she struggled to cling to consciousness. “I can’t,” she mumbled.

  “Why not? Is it just because your brother wants you to? I swear he’d be happier if you came with us.” Adrianna mumbled something unintelligible. “I can’t hear you, my love.”

  “Titus…” her head rolled gently to the side as sleep whisked her away. Jack gazed at her face torn by love and puzzlement. Titus? Then it hit him. Titus.

  A flare of anger surged fiercely within him but he quickly locked it away. So close to her he knew she’d feel it and might wake. Placing a gentle kiss upon her head he got up quietly and crossed the room to where Eisen waited. Titus must have told her something, something important enough to make her stay despite the abuse Cassandra had begun to rain down on her. But Jack knew Titus far better than Adrianna or her brother and he knew that Titus liked to play games. No doubt keeping her in the mix kept the game interesting, sod the danger. Well he’d have a few choice words to throw at the old bastard.

  Seizing Eisen’s waiting hand his lungs contracted, his body floated weightlessly around him, and his mind hovered at the edge of panic and oblivion as they vanished once more into the night.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The night sky breathed softly, its white heart beating in the silence. Cassandra slept with the shadows but not all were sleeping. One in particular slithered upon her as it grew in
its approach. Neck hairs prickled and she jerked away thrusting herself to a sitting position as her mind hurried to catch up.

  Eisen smiled. Masked behind his ten-year old body his cheeks dimpled lightly with his innocence.

  “Figo,” hissed Cassandra as her runaway heart gradually slowed its pace.

  “Not quite my name,” he teased, “but I’ll take it.”

  The Crown refused to lower her guard. With every passing moment her body hummed higher and higher with alert energy. Slipping a dagger from beneath her pillow she threw herself off the bed aiming the blade for the boy’s throat. In an instant he twisted avoiding the whizzing metal before barreling into her middle, throwing her back against the wall and pinning her arms by her sides. A second blade clattered to the floor with a disinterested thunk. Eisen held her there by Whisper strength alone.

  “What are you going to do, little boy?” goaded Cassandra cocking her eyebrow. “I thought you knew who I was. Do you forget? I have the strength of the Whispers within me as well.”

  The boy’s lips curved into a sharp smile that dripped with venom and his eyes threw icy needles into her gut. “You have what little Titus did not rip from you when Oneiroi cast you from its shores,” he hissed. Hatred that had no place in a child unfolded sending unbidden chills down Cassandra’s spine

  “Bold for one so small,” she snapped angrily. And then her anger cracked allowing in just the tiniest taste of fear. For before her the sweet little boy with dimpled round cheeks grew, all youthful softness giving way to the chiseled form of a man that towered over her and suddenly the hatred matched the face.

  Tightening his grip on her arms enough to elicit a traitorous wince of pain from his prey, Eisen leaned close to her leaving mere inches between their breaths. “I am your blood and I follow where it calls,” he murmured. His voice slid out smooth like a thumb caressing the flat edge of a sharpened blade.

  Cassandra’s eyes widened minutely. “So you confess it,” she wondered. Her eyes roamed his face and locked onto those beautiful green eyes so similar to the pair she saw in her own mirror. “Yes,” she whispered. “I should have seen it from our first meeting when I stole your beloved Adri away.”

  “I will destroy you, Cassandra,” he growled sweetly with poison-laced sugar.

  “I look forward to watching you try,” she laughed. “You’ve caused trouble for me, no doubt, but it’s been irksome at best. No obstacle is immovable. Not for me. Not this time.” She cocked her head and gave him an appraising look as if forgetting that at that moment she was trapped beneath her enemy’s very hands. “The prophecy does not say you have to embark on a heroic quest to stop me,” she points out. “Or perhaps you always do what those pathetic children tell you to do.”

  With a quiet roar he slammed her against the wall drawing out a delicious hiss of pain from her lips. “Damn the prophecy. It only confirms what I know.”

  “And what is that?” she asked roughly.

  “That I will win.”

  The Crown took this in for a moment. “What is it you want, Eisen?”

  Fire raged behind the dark emerald irises. “My sister,” he hissed.

  “Well, you have her,” she noted.

  “You are not my sister,” Eisen sneered, his grip tightening further. “You took Adrianna from me and I will not stop until I get her back with interest. I will destroy you, Cassandra, not because some seer tells me so, but because after stealing my sister, after degrading her for your own amusement, after tearing her heart by ripping away everyone she cares about one by one, because after all that you’ve done you deserve it.”

  Fury shook Eisen’s voice and his disgust rolled off his body in waves. Feuer met his hatred with loathing of her own. She had been at this game far longer than he and her plans far surpassed some boy’s little dream of revenge. Fire could shape and sharpen iron, but if not careful it could also quash it. She smiled.

  Eisen’s face shifted as a sudden musing bubbled up within him. “Do you even know what your vile curse did to those Crowns?” he asked, disgust mingling with curiosity. “Have you not once wondered what they truly suffered?” Cassandra’s face gave way no answer. Eisen leaned in further so his lips whispered delicately by her ear. “It felt a little like this, mi suverenya.”

  The Crown’s face seized with sudden pain. Gently claws slid through her mind, thin and swift like a paper cut. They slashed through her thoughts with growing vigor until she was crying out in agony. A thin trickle of blood escaped a nostril. There were hundreds of voices, thousands. The voices of all whom she had cut down whispered furiously at once in her mind. Shadows clouded her sight. Withheld air taunted her lungs. Her knees gave out but her body remained held upright by Eisen’s grip around her throat.

  “You will lose,” he whispered tenderly in her ear. At once he released the girl and watched apathetically as she crumpled into a shaking heap upon the floor. “Goodbye, Sister-Twin. Pray the next occasion you see my face again will be far from soon, for it will be the last.”

  A dark chuckle echoed through the room raising all the hairs on Cassandra’s body in alarm. With a turn the boy vanished.

  Slowly the whisperings receded from her mind, gone with Eisen’s presence. Clawing her way to her feet hatred fueled each beat of her heart. All the previous fear she felt in Eisen’s looming shadow dissipated leaving no trace but a memory she locked away deep into her vault of secrets. No one cowed the Crown. No one.

  “Figotu, Brother-Twin,” she spat. “I will dance on your promised grave.”

  * * *

  “He came to me last night,” she announced while buttering a crumpet. The small breakfast parlor sat empty save for two occupants and a delicious display of pastries, jellies, creams, cold meats, and tea. Across from her sat Christophe, pristine despite a night of elusive sleep.

  “He? Ah,” understood Ammon. “Is his blood garnishing your floor?”

  “No,” she answered coolly. “No, I’d rather behead him for all to witness.”

  “Sensible,” he agreed, mouth full of cold honey ham. Swallowing and dabbing his mouth gently with a linen cloth he asked, “Might I inquire about a rumor, mi suverenya?”

  She glanced at him over her tea, black with three lumps of sugar (perhaps to make up for the lack of sweetness in her heart?). “Not the one about us, I assume?”

  Christophe smiled. “No. I was wondering about the rumors of the cursed Crown. They say every mortal who has accepted the title goes mad. A curse, or some such, they say.”

  “And what do you say?” she asked curiously.

  “I say that you’ve been Crown for months and yet you show no signs of squawking like a bird, dancing naked and wild, or speaking to voices that aren’t there.”

  “My, rumors do make truths more colorful, don’t they?” she laughed with no warmth. Sarai fixed the handsome man with a calculating stare. “To tell the truth about those stories I would need to tell you who I am. But I think you already know that.”

  Christophe’s eyes widened. “No, mi suverenya. I ask out of curiosity alone,” he promised.

  Morrigan sat back and sipped her tea thoughtfully. “There was a man I knew a long time ago. You look nothing like him but you share some of the same tells.”

  He bowed his head and murmured, “They are only rumors.”

  “Tell me who I am.” She watched him carefully wondering if he dared.

  “You are Lady Sarai Morrigan.” Sarai threw her cup to the floor where it shattered with a crash that made the man before her flinch. “But,” he hurried on, “some say you only wear her face. I know only that much, I swear.”

  A sudden glee shadowed her eyes. “Do you want to know one of my greatest secrets, dear Ammon?”

  Christophe’s face glowed with desire. “Yes, mi suverenya,” he breathed.

  She smiled, amusement plain on her lips. “I’m a Whisper.” The man’s eyes rounded and his mouth parted in awe. She loved how pathetically easy it was to impress him.

 
The Crown pursed her lips. “I’ll tell you about the curse, dear Ammon. It’s rather a fun story.” Christophe leaned forwards ready to drink in her words. “You see I ruled Oneiroi once before. Twice, actually. I gifted the people with the Three Kingdoms and with quick ambition I became their Crown.

  “A mere servant betrayed me. I found myself weakened and surrounded. The odds charged against me and in that moment I saw that perhaps I was better off changing games.

  “It seems people are more accepting if you earn their rule than if you simply storm in and take it. So earn it I would. I became the beloved but lost Sarai Morrigan (another amusing tale) and this third time as I set my sights high I was practically shoved onto the throne.”

  Christophe had hardly blinked.

  “Now as for the curse, I didn’t see why I should have to work so hard to regain what was mine in the first place so with what power I had left I summoned a curse from my blood. The moment that fool plunged metal into flesh and drew my blood thus taking the Crown it kissed him.”

  “Tell me more about the curse,” he asked in a hush.

  “Why? Do you wish to know how it feels?” Sarai blinked, remembering Eisen’s similar words to her the night before. Pushing aside the icy memory she continued. “There was no squawking or nude dancing, I assure you. It was not that type of infliction. When I found myself ready to take back my throne I needed whoever ruled as Crown to be hated and weak.

  “Words, Christophe, mere words toppled those great men. Voices whispered in their minds like razorblades gently caressing soft skin. Voices to lead them astray and voices to remind them of every wrong they never righted.”

  “Does such a curse still live? Does it affect you?” he inquired with curiosity burning through his eyes.

  “No,” she dismissed. “When I pulled it from Dismas’ body my magic returned to my veins, and while the curse did linger for but a moment inside me it is gone now.”

  “If you're a Whisper then are Eisen's threats empty? Are you truly protected?”

  She let out a slow breath, her brow furrowed in annoyance. “It is possible,” she conceded, “that because we share blood that the rules may be altered.”