The Fallen

by Ali Winters

  Yeva took off running. That fleck of anger, turning to rage, churned in her gut. The figure moved past the meadow and past the altar. Yeva sent her powers snaking out across the land, faster than she could run… and she knew. She knew the chalice had been taken.

  She reached her power into the earth, looking for echoes, tasting the magic that had trailed along the soil. Two trails of light from her Watchers—still fresh—but below that, a lingering eddy of darkness. Silas’s power still lingered.

  The wind blew harder as she neared the figure heading toward the river. So hard that it blew back the hood and revealed raven black hair, whipping in the wind. The only other Watcher around.

  Her breathing grew rapid, not from the exertion, but from the anger overwhelming her, filling her veins with burning ice.

  Betrayed. She had been betrayed by one of her own. Silas must have gotten to Nivian, must have realized she was odd—not like the rest—he must have realized she would have been easier than the others to turn.

  And Gregor. He must have found them out and paid the price with his life.

  Yeva was only yards away when she stopped, balling her hands into fists so tight her nails bit into her tender palms. She sucked in a breath. The crescent dents in her hands grew deeper until the skin began to break.

  “Nivian!” she yelled.

  NIVIAN

  Nivian stopped deathly still in her tracks as her name ripped through the air and scraped down her back. Her pulse kicked up, thrumming loudly in her ears.

  “Nivian!” her name cleaved the night again.

  It took her too long to place the fiery voice, usually so kind and gentle but now filled with venom. Why?

  She had expected to be alone, as usual, on her trek to the river. Another nightmare had shaken her awake. They had come to her, more and more frequent as of late, leaving her in a potential state of not feeling quite herself.

  Though, why Yeva would be angry with her for going to the river, she didn’t know. The entire clan knew it was where she went to think. To feel at peace.

  Nivian turned. Yeva stalked toward her, the ancient’s hair flying wildly in the wind, the pale moonlight unable to dim the brightness of her red locks. The looming storm seemed to come from her anger itself. As she approached, Nivian dipped her head, still unable to suss out what she could have done to bring out such ire.

  Unless… had Silas told Yeva about her leading them to the sacred grounds? Surely Yeva would know that the humans had to be reaped. But Gaia… telling Yeva would have started a war. But why would he forbid her to speak of it if he had planned to do so?

  Yeva stopped, chest heaving. Nivian stayed silent and waited.

  After several agonizingly long moments, she dared to inch her chin up just a little to look at Yeva.

  Her head snapped to the side by a resounding slap. Pain burned across her cheek, blurring her vision and bringing scalding tears to her eyes. Nivian lifted a shaking hand to her stinging face as she gaped at the ancient. The bitter taste of copper filled her mouth where her teeth had sliced the inside of her cheek.

  She took a step back out of Yeva’s reach. While she wouldn’t fight, her instincts refused to let her repeat the action.

  “How dare you betray me like this,” Yeva seethed.

  Nivian’s gaze cut to Yeva’s hands. Sparks danced around her fingers. Whether she was aware of it or unable to control it, Nivian wasn’t certain. The heat on her face faded, but the pain of such an accusation did not. She had no idea what could have set Yeva off. She knew of Nivian’s trips to the river, and was one of the few who knew of her nightmares.

  “I would never—” Nivian started.

  Yeva prowled closer. And, this time, Nivian could not force her feet to move. “You have. What I cannot figure out is why you would.”

  Nivian shook her head. “I don’t understand. What is it you think I’ve done?” Yeva looked her up and down, her glare unfaltering as she studied her. Nivian could barely contain the shaking of her legs under the scrutiny. “Tell me what happened and I will help you.”

  “You have been working against us, against me.” Another flash of lightning. “How long?”

  “Yeva… please,” she begged.

  “How long?”

  Nivian cringed at the demand, the words sharp and cutting. “I would never betray you. I swear it.” The words were poised to fall from her lips to explain why she had led Silas and Caspian to the fountain.

  Yeva swept a hand out, indicating the road, the night. “Then what are you doing out here alone when all others are in bed? You were not assigned a patrol tonight.”

  She blinked. Yeva still did not know of what happened in the forest…

  She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it as the nightmare, the suffocating darkness of it, the pressure squeezing down around her, came back in rushing waves. “I couldn’t sleep. The thunder woke me.”

  “And?” Yeva prompted, drawing out the word.

  “That’s it,” Nivian said. “The river calms me.”

  “You are a liar.” The words were almost as painful as the slap. “You are here to betray me.”

  Her mind struggled to grasp onto any reason why Yeva would think she was acting against her. It wasn’t about the fountain. Though that had not been a true betrayal, that had been to protect the balance. And she’d been forbidden to speak of it.

  “No,” was all Nivian could manage to say.

  “Then, where is it?”

  Nivian blinked. Then blinked again and shook her head. “What are you looking for?”

  Yeva closed the distance between them, gripping Nivian’s shoulders and shaking her. “Where is it?”

  “Yeva…” Nivian pleaded.

  Yeva let her go, pushing her back a step. “Give me your cloak.”

  Nivian did as ordered. Her fingers reached up and undid the clasp, removing it from around her shoulders. Yeva snatched it out of her hands. The friction of the material across her skin left a trail of heat lingering behind.

  She wanted to ask, to plead with Yeva to tell her what she thought she’d taken. But she didn’t dare speak.

  Yeva huffed and threw the cloak to the muddy ground. Nivian only looked at it. How could Yeva believe she would steal?

  “I will be watching you, and if I catch you so much as using a spark of power against me, then I will see to it that you are destroyed.”

  Yeva’s promise chilled her blood as it wrapped around her heart and squeezed. She felt a small crack form as Yeva turned and stormed off, leaving her standing in the cold, dark night, still unsure what had inspired such fury in the ancient.

  It wasn’t until Yeva crested the hill and then disappeared down the other side that Nivian let loose the sob that had caught in her throat. Burning tears filled her eyes and spilled over, leaving salty tracks over her cheeks.

  She pressed her hand to her face and winced at the lingering pain her slight touch brought. It would leave a mark.

  Nivian reached down and snatched up her cloak then turned and ran toward the river. She dropped down at the base of the tree at the edge of the forest and pulled her knees into her chest, hugging them tightly with shivering arms. She bowed her forehead to rest upon her knees and sobbed.

  She didn’t know how long she had stayed like that, or how long it took for her tears to subside. But when she finally moved, her entire body was stiff and aching. She felt raw from the inside out. Nivian tugged on her sleeve and used it to wipe the trails of tears off her skin.

  She straightened her legs and looked up at the waving leaves of the tree she sat against.

  What would Yeva have been looking for that Nivian could take? She could think of nothing. As Watchers, possessions meant very little. Watchers needed very little and had all they needed. Stealing just wasn’t done.

  “There must be something heavy on your mind for you not to notice me.”

  Nivian’s head snapped up at the familiar voice.

  Caspian stood, leaning against t
he tree not more than a foot away. She moved to get up, but he gave her a stilling motion and, instead, sat down next to her.

  Caspian frowned as they sat shoulder to shoulder. He was so close, his breath caressed her face as he looked at her with those infinite eyes that had captured the night sky when the moon didn’t show its face.

  Nivian could feel the questions brewing. Yet he remained silent, waiting for her to speak first. Waiting for her to decide when she would tell him anything—if she would tell him anything at all.

  His arm twitched slightly, then he pulled it from between their two bodies and wrapped it around her shoulders. Caspian didn’t even need to nudge her, she gladly leaned into him.

  They sat like that for a long time. Not moving and not speaking.

  Slowly, the stars and the sliver of a moon swept lazily across the sky. The echo of the slap sounding in her ears, throbbing in time with the pulse of her heart.

  Nivian leaned away and looked up into eyes that matched the night. “I’ve never seen her like that before.” She dropped her chin and frowned down at her hands, resting in her lap, as though they might impart the answers she needed. “She was furious with me… I still can’t figure out why.”

  A muscle twitched along Caspian’s jawline as he looked away, staring straight ahead.

  Nivian pressed her palm against her face, still feeling the ghost of the sting that lingered long after Yeva had left her on that hill alone.

  “Who?” was all he asked.

  “Yeva,” Nivian barely whispered her name, afraid speaking it aloud would summon the ancient. Caspian didn’t so much as blink in response. Either he’d expected as much, or he hadn’t heard.

  His arm tightened against her as though he could protect her if he held her close enough. Nivian let her fingers fall from her face, then moved her hand to his face, turning his chin so he would look at her.

  “She thinks I betrayed her. That… I took something.” Nivian shook her head. “There is nothing we have that any of us would want. Nothing I could take.”

  Caspian’s eyes darkened, and she wondered if even he understood Yeva better than she did. Nivian shivered, remembering Yeva’s final words to her. Words that had shaken her to her core. Words that had destroyed more than she had yet to realize.

  “Did she speak of…” he let his words trail off, as though he was well aware someone might overhear.

  Nivian shook her head, answering his unspoken question, and took a deep, shuddering breath, then blew it out. Saying the next few words would be hard. It made her want to cry all over again, made the pain as sharp as it had been the second Yeva had uttered them—she needed to tell someone.

  “She said that if she caught me acting against her…” Nivian swallowed hard. Her breathing coming a little faster as her pulse picked up. “I don’t know why she would think I would do anything against her. I… I love her. I love my purpose, protecting mortals. She said she would have me destroyed.”

  A cool breath of air brushed past them as if Caspian couldn’t help a flair of his powers. Though, his expression gave nothing away.

  She knew he wouldn’t have an answer, but still she asked, “What if she thinks I did something against her when I didn’t? Do you think she’ll honestly have me destroyed?”

  Caspian moved faster than she could see. He sat up straight, his hands holding her face as he pulled her close to him. She was too surprised to react as his palm caressed her still tender cheek. Though, the coolness of his skin soothed the warmth.

  “Listen to me, Nivi, I do not know what would possess her to act like that, but I swear to you upon my own existence that I will never let that happen. I will protect you.” Nivian blinked, almost breathless by his sudden declaration. “I will always be on your side.”

  His words filled her with a warmth she desperately needed.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He smiled one of his rare smiles then said again, “I will protect you.”

  Caspian leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. Tentative at first, as if waiting for her to respond. As if to ask if it was okay. And when she moved her mouth to welcome the kiss, he responded with more urgency, with a longing and need that she had not realized he’d felt, had not realized she had felt.

  The impossibility of that moment was not lost on her. A Dark Guardian and a Watcher. Friends… possibly more. The fingers of one of Caspian’s hands snaked into her hair, the other wrapped around her waist.

  She would be content to stay at the river, listening to its beautiful song as long as she could, in the arms of someone who understood her and accepted her as she was.

  YEVA

  YEVA BRUSHED HER hand across the surface of the wooden table large enough to fit over a dozen seated. Perfect for having a Reaper lay down so she might learn more about them, might understand what grotesque, rotting, thing they were made of.

  She lifted her chin, her nose crinkling slightly as one corner of her mouth turned up in a half formed sneer. Its dark powers still lingered, a sour taste coating her tongue. Silas had never felt as these creatures did, had never felt cold or dead or anything as foul as the things he created.

  At most, he had been a cool river, warmed slightly by the summer sun on the hottest day of the year. He had never felt anything but alive in her arms. Still, she didn’t allow herself to wonder what he was made of.

  These underlings, these Reaplings, were mere echoes of him, even as vile and twisted as they were. For all she knew, they could have been made from his own shadow for all the substance they held.

  Jack shifted from behind her. Only the brush of fabric against itself reached her ears. Both he and Taliha had all but stopped breathing.

  “They are so fragile,” she murmured to herself.

  This one, now nothing more than an unremarkable memory, had lasted longer than the previous ones. He had been the second Reaper that day she’d deigned to study. And he had almost gained a solid form—not the one that could come and go as they did—but something permanent. Solid. Unchangeable. Something akin to a mere mortal.

  She was getting closer to figuring out what they were made of and how she could change them. Yeva had never imagined they would be malleable like wet clay. All they needed was a pair of hands that knew where to reach, where to push and pull. A pair of hands that could shape them into something powerful. Less breakable.

  Earlier that morning, shortly after she had left Nivian, she had gone out to the city, needing a walk to calm her anger. By Gaia’s luck, she happened upon a Reaper. A weak little thing stalking a mortal in the shadows of an alleyway.

  It hadn’t even sensed her presence until her magic was wrapped around it. Until Yeva had pressed a hand to her back and shoved her power into it, destroying the thing before it could suck in a breath to scream. That little experiment, while entertaining, had taught her much about her limits and theirs.

  She had thrown everything she had into it, not holding back a single fleck of power. It took next to nothing to rid the world of it, to save the mortal who’d passed out from far too much ale.

  Yeva turned to face the two Watchers, waiting, observing. This was their first time seeing what she had been up to. The looks on their faces was exactly what she’d expected.

  Curious. Intrigued.

  She had chosen wisely. Though, for a moment, she’d contemplated telling Kain everything and showing him how they were made. Yeva had been so close to opening her mouth and speaking the few words needed to bring him and his power into this. Kain was strong, much stronger than all the other Watchers, yet still only a candle compared to her power that raged like a wild fire.

  He would have been perfect. He could have gone into their core and searched without destroying as she had. But Yeva never said a word to him. It was his unsavory connection to Nivian that had stopped her. Nivian had a hold on him that could only lead to the ruin of her mission.

  It took everything in Yeva to hold her powers back, to adjust, so she could still win
d her way through their power. She had come so close.

  One more. She needed one more, then she could succeed. No doubt Silas would soon find those filthy humans soiling the sacred cove, if he hadn’t already. But no matter, he would assume they were the cause of the slight imbalance. Their deaths would give her the leeway she needed to try her experiments one or two more times on these dark creatures of his.

  “This is what becomes of them all?” Taliha asked.

  Yeva dipped her chin in the slightest nod.

  “How many more do you need?” Jack asked, his face a stony mask. He felt nothing toward the Guardians, and Yeva was grateful for it.

  Yeva tilted her head a fraction of an angle. He had lost something within him. It had taken her days to see, to notice. And even longer still until she had been able to put a name to it. Somehow, it had seemed to improve him. That break between him and that Reaper had made him stronger from within.

  It only served to enforce her thought that the Reapers only brought weakness and destruction.

  “For now?” Yeva put a finger to her cheek pressing in on the small dimple and leaned to rest her backside against the table. “One will do.”

  Taliha stepped forward. “Why have the Reapers been acting outside their duty as of late? We have come to expect the occasional one, here and there. But lately they have all seemed to go mad. Yet they act innocent.”

  Yeva gripped the table’s edge at her back, her nails digging into the soft wood. “I am unsure. None of them have yet to admit anything.” She pushed away and crossed the space separating them. Slipping a hand into each of theirs, she pulled them close. “They are greedy by nature. Always consuming things and wanting more. You see how their numbers continue to grow like vermin.” The two Watchers nodded. “They are sending them, one by one, to try to turn you all against me. To try to steal your strength so they can remain untouched.”

  Taliha gasped, the fingers of her free hand splaying over her mouth as she mumbled softly, “No…”

  “What have they done?” Jack asked. He had a hand to his chest, gripping the material of his shirt with a pained expression furrowing his brow.