by S L Matthews
Dervet sighed, visibly annoyed by her questions. “Yes, I suppose a sabre’s tooth would fit this type of wound. But you must…”
“She took it,” Marina said, placing her hands on her hips. “I can’t believe she took it!” Marina paced back and forth before lunging for the open tent flap.
Dervet’s annoyed call came from behind her, “Exactly where do you think you’re going at this hour?”
Marina reached for her pack and prepared to leave, stating, “I need to warn my father. He’s in danger.”
Dervet scoffed. Marina snapped her head, a wicked scowl stretching across her face. He sighed once more, pulling his glasses to the bridge of his nose. “You certainly have your mother’s spirit. But child, they left hours ago. You’ll never catch them, especially with that sentinel leading the way.” He pointed to the empty chair at Celien’s side, beckoning her to take a seat. “Now, if you can just sit still, your mother will want company when she wakes.”
Marina’s shoulders slumped, and her pack fell to the tent floor. She took a final glance into the streets of Feathermoon before conceding to Dervet’s request. She dragged her feet before coming to rest beside her mother, grasping her hand once more.
She leaned in close, whispering into her mother’s ear. “I’ll find her, mother. Cass will pay for what she did.”
| Chapter XX
Tide of Darkness
Viktor cowered in the corner of the stairs. He reached for Elhora, yanking her onto the landing, then pulled the slender, purple lotus dagger from his waist. “S—stop!” Viktor screamed, holding the blue-misted blade to Elhora’s neck.
“No.”
Ava advanced. She squeezed the amulet and sprinted across the tavern floor. Terror cloaked Viktor, and he shrank, his face losing all color. The tavern walls burned with the strength of the sun, and the darkened stairwell lit up as Ava charged.
Viktor’s eyes widened in terror. He raised the dagger high overhead and thrust forward.
Ava lunged, the full force of her anger directed at one, pathetic being.
“I said…NO!”
Ava screamed. Every muscle tensed. Her throat blistered as a searing pain ripped through her body. Her porcelain jaw locked, rigid, and wide open. Her fists clenched, her knuckles whitened, and her sinister nails dug deep into her palms. It tore through her like a shard of glass, yet, with an ageless fury, she screamed, enraged, terrifying—primal.
A pulse erupted from her body, as though the air in the room had evaporated in an instant. A blinding flash ensued, followed by deafening silence. Then, Ava felt nothing. Her world stood still, frozen in time. She felt her heartbeat and the tingle in her toes, but her mind and her body remained numb. Several moments passed while a cloak of silence enveloped the inn. A gentle breeze brushed against her tunic, followed by a soft whisper from the sea. Her thoughts returned, along with subtle whispers and a hushed murmur.
Slowly, she opened her eyes—and gasped.
Ava was enveloped in frosted mist. At her feet, wooden planks popped and cracked, blocks of timber frozen in place. The floor around her had been ripped free, its splintered fragments launched into the surrounding walls. The massive oak bar had been lifted, thrown into the kitchen. The old wall separating the two was gone, nothing but a distant memory. Red cloaked soldiers lay strewn across the bar, crumpled beneath it, and flung over it. Piled into the corners of the room and against the walls, were people, tables, chairs, and anything else not bolted down.
Before her, Elhora cowered against the base of the stairs, her palms crossed over her face. Behind Elhora, a large, jagged hole had been ripped into the wall, leading to the storeroom beyond. On the far side of the storeroom was another hole of the same size, followed by another. Loose brick and stone tumbled free, revealing sunlight, an ancient city wall, bathed in blood, and the mangled body of a wretched man.
As Ava staggered to catch her breath, a warm, soothing sensation rose from her chest. She studied Viktor’s body, or at least, what was left—and a weight lifted. This time, there was no doubt. She ended it. She ended him.
Ava was free.
She exhaled, staring at her bloody, cracked hands and the amulet within. Her lip quivered, and her gaze returned to Elhora.
“Did… I?” Ava questioned, surveying the inside of the broken tavern.
Elhora nodded, a proud smile stretching across her face. “Oh yes, child. You certainly did.” She winced, lifting an arm to cover her chest. She dabbed at the insidious ‘V,’ then withdrew bloodied fingertips.
Ava knelt before her, grasping the palm of her hand. Tears filled her eyes while guilt stabbed at her heart, knowing no words would fill the void. “I’m so sorry, Elhora. I…”
Ava froze, and her expression grew blank. She stared at Elhora’s chest, and the symbol inflicted upon it—then watched in amazement as the wound slowly disappeared. Elhora stroked the area with her fingertips, watching as the last mark faded from view, then turned to meet Ava’s gaze, equally amazed.
“Did… I?” Ava questioned again, a proud smile beaming from her face.
Elhora returned the smile, equally beaming, equally proud. “Yes, my child. You certainly did.”
Tears fell from Ava’s eyes. Some were happy; some were remorseful; all were long overdue. “Djior,” she whispered, her gaze landing on the balcony and her former prison beyond. “I tried so hard to save him. I did everything I could, Elhora, I promise!”
Ava wiped the tears from her eyes, lines of dust streaking across her cheek. She shook her head in defeat. “I couldn’t save him.”
She felt a warm hand caress her cheek, pulling her back to the present. Elhora’s soft, motherly gaze awaited. “My child, Dijor’s job was to set you free, to send you on your new journey.” She winced, snapping her hand from Ava’s wrists. She brought the side of her thumb to her mouth, a crimson streak burned into its side.
Ava lifted the blackened gems, their stones pulsing with heat. A light trail of smoke lifted from the amulet, though her skin remained unblemished. Elhora chuckled, licking her new burn. “He can rest easy now. I think we can agree. His job is done.”
The pair exchanged knowing smiles while Ava pulled Elhora to her feet. She carefully tucked the amulet within her palm, then turned to the destruction of the tavern. Civilians, soldiers, and mercenaries crawled out from their respective corners. The gathered in amazement, none willing to speak, all wearing the same expression. They stared back toward Ava, wordless.
Elhora leaned against Ava’s shoulder. “He would be so proud, you know. You were like a daughter to him.”
Pride filled Ava’s heart, followed by a sense of loss. She gasped. “Daughter!” Ava scanned the room, beyond the maze of dust-covered faces. She caught subtle hints of blue, crawling from the seaside wall of the tavern. Ava sprinted to Anduin, collapsing to her knees before him. She grabbed his hand, begging with a simple request.
“Tell me about your daughter.”
Amoran dusted off his stained robes, peeking his head out of the large windows to the market. “My lady, I don’t believe we have time for…”
Ava’s gaze shot to the merchant, who quickly reversed his intent.
“Of course, the tremor appears to have scared them away. And, based on recent events, I don’t believe anyone will be telling you what to do for a while.” A gentle smile crept into his face, followed by a nod. He continued helping survivors to their feet, clustering them near the rear exit of the inn.
Ava pressed against cobalt armor and lifted her gaze, meeting Anduin’s in return. His eyes were deep and determined, masking a haunted soul, one of anguish and loss. Though, she was entranced by this man’s heartache.
With a heavy heart, Anduin described the girl with the curly black hair and the lacey blue dress. Hints of a smile crept into his words, wedged between tormented eyes and the anguish in his voice. Ava listened intently while the noise of the crowd grew around them. Camille loved picking flowers from the royal gardens, skipping thr
ough the markets of Cambria with her mother, and dancing beneath the stars, without a care in the world.
It was everything Ava’s life was meant to be, with a father who cared, in a world she belonged. “You have to find her. Please,” Anduin said. His face flushed with pain as he leaned onto his good leg.
Ava gasped, examining his wound for the first time. Both bones were shattered below the knee. The knee itself was twisted and mangled. His foot dragged along the floor, coated in dried blood and otherwise useless. Her heart sank.
She glanced at the blackened gems of the amulet. The large center stone pulsed, absorbing the light around it while Ava’s thoughts focused on the present. The words of Ava’s mother echoed in her mind. “Calm the storm within.”
Ava cautiously knelt to the ground, placing her hands against Anduin’s leg. “I have a better idea. How about we find her together?” She anticipated his objection and looked up, asking the simplest of questions. “Do you trust me?”
Anduin leaned against his elbows and winced. He glanced around the room, concern in his eyes before nodding.
“Calm the storm,” Ava whispered, taking a deep breath. She imagined a little girl running through the market, grabbing flowers from a cart, and tucking them into her hair. She imagined the scent of lavender and honey, roses and sunflower. A brilliant blue light cloaked her hands and the floor before her, and the room fell deathly quiet.
Anduin winced, a sharp gasp escaping his lips. The gasp of the crowd, however, was not so subtle. Pain flooded Ava’s fingertips, followed by a cold, numb sensation.
Ava pulled back her hands as a frosted mist envelopedAnduin’s leg. His foot angled to the sky, his knee was firmly in place, and both legs reforged, just as they should be.
Her gaze fell to the amulet around her wrist, then to Anduin. His expression was one of shock. He moved his knee back and forth and gently bent his leg. He stood, using his fellow soldiers for support. Anduin tested his legs while his broken blade slipped from his hand. The sword clanged against the floor as tears flowed down the hardened soldier’s face.
Ava stood before him, and Anduin stuttered, desperately searching for words. She placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled, nodding to the seaside windows. “She’s out there, yes?”
Anduin relaxed, wiping the tears from his cheek. He laughed while he tested his leg, glancing to Amoran and his men, who all met him with an astonished gaze. “Yes. Yes, she is.”
Ava laughed, feeling a sense of joy for the first time in—years?
“I’ve lost someone as well. If you help me find him, can I help you find Camille?”
A light filled Anduin’s eyes. The soldier fell away, replaced by the father. He once again glanced to Amoran and his men, as though silently asking for their permission. Each, to the man, smiled, nodding in agreement. His gaze returned to Ava, his expression filled with renewed hope. Enthusiastically, he accepted her offer.
“It’d be my honor, Ava.”
Cambrian soldiers grouped civilians while they gathered what belongings they had left. The Huntsmen stood watch over the Cyrean soldiers, all of which lined up along the bar, each condemning Ava with the most sour expression they could muster; yet none compared to the look on Rowan and Captain Ferael’s faces.
Ava relished in the feeling and winked back, offering the most sincere smile she could muster. Amoran stepped forward, straightening his robe to—well, Ava wasn’t sure what he was hoping to do. His attire would likely never be clean again, but she didn’t blame him for trying.
“We’re ready to head out, Lieutenant,” Amoran said, motioning to the line forming near the back door of the inn. “The tremors scared them off again. No telling for how long.” The two exchanged a knowing glance and a moment of silence. “I won’t try to stop you, but please be careful out there.”
Anduin responded with a nod and a hand to Amoran’s shoulder, then turned to Ava. He extended an arm to the front doors of the tavern and waited until she made a move to the streets of Wyvern’s Rest.
The line of Cyrean soldiers maintained their gaze while the pair strode by, the wonderful feeling returning to the pit of Ava’s stomach—until she stepped onto the landing of the old inn. Butterflies burst forth while her eyes peered over the broken doors, each hanging limply by a single hinge.
She stepped forward, her footsteps echoing on the hollow boardwalk. The putrid scent of a decayed city wafted into her nose, mixed with salty air and the dusty remnants of collapsed stone. Ava inhaled an immense breath—the largest of her young life—and savored every last second. With a smile on her face, she lifted her foot and placed it onto the broken cobblestone street of Wyvern’s Rest.
Anduin stepped alongside her while a sorrowful soul joined her in the street. Jorel hung his head, not brave enough to say the first word. Ava crossed her arms over her chest, her patience with him hanging by a thread.
“Yes?” she demanded.
Jorel squished his face as he kicked at a broken cobblestone. “So, Taryn. I’d like to help you find him. Maybe we can find Coop while we’re at it.”
He shrugged his shoulders, the closest she’d ever seen to an apology. “You can hate us afterward.”
Ava looked him up and down, his remorse palpable, but she wasn’t about to let him know that. She stepped forward as horrific screams shot from beyond the city gate. Civilians scrambled from the streets while alabaster creatures launched from the shadow.
Daggered claws and insatiable fangs tore through the townsfolk as the wave of pale beings swept through the street. A rusted portcullis stood open, separating the inner quarter from the Guilded Wyrmling Inn and the families seeking refuge within. Without hesitation, Anduin sprinted to the portcullis while Jorel pulled his weapons, angling away from the old inn.
“Ava, we’ve gotta go now!” Jorel shouted, stepping toward the beach. “It’s now or never!”
A rickety latch flipped, and metal clanked against metal as the portcullis descended toward the cobblestone street. Anduin withdrew his sword and sliced through the withered creatures, giving time for the portal to the inner quarter to close behind them. He yelled to Ava, desperation in his voice. “This won’t hold them long! You must warn Lord Davilla!”
Ava stood on the boardwalk while the alabaster wave crashed into the portcullis. Fangs and claws ripped at the iron bars, desperate to sate their hunger. Anduin continued to fight while Jorel called to her in desperation. “Ava! Let’s go!”
A whisper echoed in her mind. The subtle voices returned. She glanced at the amulet in her hand, the large, center stone resuming its familiar pulse. Ava turned to the tavern and the startled line of civilians seeking cover.
“It’s too late!” Jorel shouted, urging her to follow. “You’re free now!”
His words continued, but Ava heard none of them. Her gaze fell upon Elhora, rushing Dari to the darkened corner under the stairwell.
I’m free.
Ava raised the amulet, the sunlight absorbing into its blackened gems. A sense of peace washed over her. Ava pulled the necklace to her chest, tightening the clasp behind her neck. She proudly aligned it to her collar and turned back to the old inn.
“What about Taryn,” Jorel said, his voice trailing to nothing.
Ava paused and met his gaze, saying simply, “Tell Coop not to come back without him.”
She pushed against the broken doors and strode back into the shadow of the old tavern. Her sharp gaze met the line of Cyrean soldiers. Ava kicked a sword to Captain Ferael and whispered, “Captain, prepare your men.”
An icy wave licked against the shore of Wyvern’s Rest, slowly throwing a limp body from the sea. The body lay on its back, gliding further up the blackened sand with each relentless wave. Taryn groaned, overcome by the numbness that had consumed his feeble frame. His fingers and toes refused to move. He wasn’t even sure if his arms and legs were still attached. Taryn’s back was ice cold, his clothes frozen in place by the frigid water of the bay, while his face burned from th
e sun, passing high overhead.
He fought to crack his eyes open. Apparently, those had been frozen in place as well. The sky was a dull blur, with clouds indistinguishable from open air. Small black objects fluttered high above him while the scent of dust and decay filled his senses.
A large blur invaded his vision, blocking the sun and the hazy sky above. Features took shape: eyes, a nose, light skin, and feathered braids. The visage of a woman came into focus, but not like one he had ever seen before. Her jaw was firm, her eyes narrow and quite breathtaking. Her lower lip was puffed while a fine, curled line formed her upper lip. Her cheekbones were high, higher than anyone other than…
Ava!
Taryn coughed, feeling cold water cascade across his cheek. He fought to roll over, to come to his knees, but a firm hand pressed against his shoulder.
“Now, now,” the voice whispered. Its tone was light and airy, with a broken tongue and fluid accent. “Can you tell me your name?”
Taryn relaxed onto his back as a sudden pain ripped across his chest, traveling through his shoulders and arms. It stabbed at him, a sharp, agonizing sensation.
“Ava!” he called, forgetting the previous question.
The gentle tone returned while the hand traveled from his shoulder to his chest. The touch was tender, as was the voice that followed. “I think you may be lying to me. You don’t look like an Ava.”
The woman’s face slowly came into focus, and Taryn saw her for the first time. Her chestnut-colored hair was split into dozens of tiny braids, cascading from her face. Red feathers wrapped tightly within each braid, woven throughout. Intricate tattoos flowed from her forehead, through her eye, and down her cheek, as did three sinister scars. Fine lines etched into the corner of her eyes and mouth, adding to her exotic features.
“I know an Ava, though,” the fluid, accented voice resumed. “I believe she has something of mine. What do you say we find her together?”
