Origins

by A D Starrling

  The sound came again. Mila sat up slowly, her heart drumming rapidly against her breast.

  Aäron woke, startled, and looked at her. ‘What is it?’

  A short distance away, Buros snorted, bridle jingling as he shook his head and cocked his ears. The stallion recognized the noise as well.

  Mila rose and started pulling her clothes on. Aäron followed suit and grabbed his blade.

  ‘Where?’ he said quietly.

  ‘To the south.’

  He glanced at her, a muscle jumping in his cheek. ‘How many and how far?’

  Mila lowered herself on her haunches and laid her hand against the ground.

  ‘Two horses,’ she murmured after a moment. ‘About half a league away.’ She paused. ‘He will get here first.’

  Aäron frowned as she rose and stared into the fading night. ‘Who will?’

  Mila lifted her head and hand, searching for the familiar shape among the dwindling stars. He came in a flurry of wings and a shrill cry, the sound joyous and admonishing at the same time, claws digging into her skin.

  ‘Abu,’ she breathed.

  The hawk blinked at her sullenly before giving her wrist a few angry pecks. Then he stilled as she gently stroked him, her fingers running down his body from his brow all the way to his tail. A low rumble erupted from his chest and he closed his eyes, butting his head lovingly against her touch.

  Mila smiled. ‘I missed you too.’

  Then she heard it, a voice in her head, one filled with as much anger as she had expected. Found you!

  Chapter Thirty

  ‘You retarded imbecile!’ roared Jared.

  Mila blinked.

  ‘Calm down,’ pleaded Navia.

  ‘Why did you run?’ he shouted at Mila. He turned and grabbed Aäron by the neckline of his tunic, his handsome features dark with anger. ‘And you! Why did you not bring her back?’

  ‘It is good to see you too, Commander,’ murmured Aäron. ‘And I think you presume a lot of me if you think I have the capacity to control the actions of your sister.’

  Mila sighed. ‘Let him go. We were on our way to Larraak, to see Navia.’

  Jared scowled, chest heaving with his breaths, before slowly releasing Aäron. ‘Good Gods, do you know how long and how far we have searched for you?’

  Mila flinched at the raw pain on her brother’s face.

  ‘Our mother is out of her mind with worry and our cousins and siblings have been scouring all the corners of the kingdom for—’

  ‘Mother—’ Mila interrupted. She paused and took a shallow breath, ‘—so, mother does not think I killed Romerus?’

  Navia and Jared shared a troubled glance.

  ‘None of us do,’ said Jared. ‘Deep down inside, I think even Kronos does not.’

  Guilt flashed through Mila at her husband’s name. She sensed Aäron’s gaze on her.

  ‘How is he?’ she said haltingly. ‘And the children? Eleaza and Kaleb? Are they well?’

  ‘As well as can be, considering Crovir has convinced the entire Empire that their mother is a murderer and a traitor,’ said Jared with a bitter grimace. ‘And Kronos has taken to drinking heavily.’

  ‘So they are still in Issin?’ Mila said insistently.

  Navia nodded.

  Relief flooded Mila. She had feared Crovir would have taken them to Uryl. She was silent for a while.

  ‘How come—why did you not believe Crovir when he accused me of murdering Romerus?’ she said finally. ‘The soldiers at the citadel did.’

  ‘Because I know you, sister,’ said Jared between gritted teeth. ‘We all do. And we know of your devotion to Romerus. Once the shock of the news of his demise passed, we realized there was no way in this world you would ever have laid a finger on him, however much he provoked you.’ He looked at Navia. ‘Besides, there was something else that sealed our conviction.’

  Mila’s gaze shifted to her cousin.

  ‘I could not read his mind,’ Navia murmured. ‘When I tried to probe the consciousness of the king to confirm the facts of his statement, I saw only darkness and emptiness.’

  ‘You have always found it hard to truly read and control Immortal minds, cousin,’ said Mila. ‘Especially those of Crovir and Bastian, the first among us.’

  ‘That was why it was crucial we find you,’ said Jared. ‘To confirm what we all fear. Our darkest suspicions.’

  Navia moved then and knelt before Mila where she sat on a rock. ‘Can I, cousin?’

  Mila hesitated before nodding. She bit her lip as the Seer lifted her hands to her temples. Cool fingers brushed her consciousness a heartbeat later. She glanced at Aäron. He smiled at her encouragingly, causing Jared to stare between the two of them with a frown.

  She fought down her natural instinct to resist the strange force probing her mind, took a deep breath, and let go.

  Lines furrowed Navia’s brow as she closed her eyes and concentrated. Then she gasped, the blood draining from her face. In the frozen moment that followed, a low sob escaped her lips and tears seeped from beneath her eyelashes.

  Jared stepped toward her, fingers reaching out before he stopped and clenched his fist, his hand falling to his side.

  Navia finally released her and opened her eyes. Mila swallowed as she registered the agony in their green depths. In that moment, she lived it all over again. The vile words Crovir had spoken to Romerus. The dagger in his hand. The abominable act that had followed. The blood. The agony of seeing her grandfather pass from this world.

  And that strange presence, the one she had forgotten about in her desperate flight from the citadel and all that came after. The sensation that someone else had been there, had witnessed it all. Had waited, as if expecting Romerus’s death.

  Navia cried quietly, shoulders shaking, eyes fixed unseeingly on her hands where they lay in her lap.

  ‘So it is true,’ she whispered brokenly.

  ‘Navia?’

  She looked at Jared. ‘It was Crovir who killed Romerus.’

  Mila’s brother drew a breath in sharply, his face pale. Then he twisted on his heels and glared at the rising sun, eyelashes glistening with wetness, knuckles whitening against his thighs.

  Navia finally stilled her tears. She took a shuddering breath before gazing uneasily between Mila and Aäron.

  Mila met her eyes unflinchingly, knowing that when she had probed her mind, she had no doubt seen all that came after Romerus’s death.

  ‘There is more,’ said her cousin in a low voice.

  Jared wiped a hand across his face and turned to her with a frown.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Eleaza gazed out of the window of her bedchamber. Although the morning sky above Issin was a pale blue, she could see thunderclouds gathering above the distant mountains to the east. She shivered, a strange feeling sending icy fingers dancing along her skin.

  ‘Princess, look, look what grandmother made for you!’

  She turned and studied Emet blankly as he came skipping across the floor. His steps faltered and the cheerful expression on his face faded. Then he rallied forth and flashed her a dazzling smile before dropping a scarf on the bench where she sat.

  Eleaza stared at the beautifully woven material.

  ‘Grandmother says the days are getting cold and you will be in need of this,’ gushed Emet.

  She touched the thick cloth for a moment before lifting it and wrapping it around her shoulders, wishing it were her mother’s arms instead. Tears filled her eyes and her breath hitched in her throat.

  Emet watched her anxiously and slowly lowered himself to the floor at her feet. ‘Are you sad, Princess?’

  Eleaza nodded jerkily, not trusting herself to speak. Emet fell silent and traced random patterns on the marble floor with a finger.

  ‘I too was sad, when father died,’ he mumbled after a while. ‘I never knew mother, so I could not mourn her.’ He gazed at her once more, his face clearing. ‘But I had grandmother. Then I met the Red Queen and
you and Kaleb.’ He smiled. ‘You are not alone, Princess. You have your father and your brother, your uncles and aunts, all your cousins, and me and grandmother. We will be with you until the Red Queen returns.’

  Eleaza stared at him, her heart breaking all over again. This boy, this human whose life would be a flash in the night compared to her own Immortal one, had known more loss and misery in his existence than she had ever experienced. Remorse surged through her. Though she hated the horrible things she had heard the servants whisper about why her mother had vanished and missed her presence terribly, she could not afford to be weak, not when he could demonstrate such strength after all the hardship he had borne.

  She wiped her eyes, sniffed, and rose from the bench. ‘Let us go, Emet.’

  He jumped to his feet and stared at her, curious. ‘Where?’ A grimace twisted his lips for a moment. ‘I mean, where, Princess?’

  Eleaza giggled and felt her heart lighten for the first time in days. ‘To the training ground. Let us get Kaleb and go practice our archery.’

  He nodded vigorously, eyes shining with excitement.

  It was as they navigated the corridor near the main hall that they heard the voices.

  ‘You are a disgrace!’ someone shouted. ‘Look at you! Are you so enamored of your wife that you turn into a wreck the moment she is no longer at your side?’

  Eleaza startled when she recognized her grandfather’s voice. She slowed and moved quietly toward one of the marble pillars framing an archway into the chamber, a hesitant Emet at her side.

  ‘Princess?’ he whispered.

  She lifted a finger to her lips to silence him and peered around the column. Her eyes widened.

  ‘Now, bring them here,’ barked King Crovir.

  Slouching on the floor against one of the gilded chairs at the head of the room was her father. His hair and clothes were unkempt and a beard shadowed his face. He had been this way for days now, ever since her mother disappeared.

  ‘Bring who here?’ said Kronos in a slurred voice.

  He knocked back the tumbler in his hand, red liquid spilling past his lips and dribbling down his chin as he gulped and swallowed. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gazed sullenly at the king.

  King Crovir scowled. ‘Your children, you fool!’

  Eleaza’s heart leapt in her throat. She had always felt somewhat nervous around her grandfather. Today, more than ever, his presence filled her with dread.

  Kronos narrowed his eyes, his expression clearing for a moment. ‘Why do you want to see the children?’

  King Crovir’s face grew shuttered. ‘They are to come with me to Uryl.’

  Kronos blinked. Understanding slowly crystallized in his eyes.

  Face sobering, he grabbed the chair and rose unsteadily to his feet.

  ‘Why do you wish to take them to Uryl?’ His voice hardened. ‘Is it because of Mila?’

  King Crovir observed him for a silent moment, as if gauging his next move. ‘Yes. They will serve as a…security of sorts, should she return.’

  Fear seared Eleaza. She covered her mouth with her hands and stifled the whimper that emerged from her throat. Even though she did not fully comprehend the meaning behind her grandfather’s words, his expression and tone filled her with terror. Emet grabbed her dress, fingers whitening in the material.

  ‘Eleaza?’ said someone behind them.

  She jumped slightly and looked over her shoulder.

  Kaleb approached from the end of the corridor, a puzzled expression on his face. ‘What are you doing?’

  Too late, she waved her hands to hush him. Footsteps stormed across the marble floor from the direction of the hall.

  King Crovir rounded the pillar. ‘There you are.’ He towered over her and glanced at her brother. ‘Good, I have found both of you. Come with me.’

  Kaleb’s gaze switched between Eleaza’s stricken face and their grandfather’s. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘To Uryl.’

  King Crovir grabbed Eleaza roughly by the arm and beckoned to Kaleb. He stood still, his eyes widening as he stared at them.

  ‘I said come, child!’ snapped King Crovir.

  Kaleb startled, face blanching. King Crovir stormed across the passage and snatched his arm, forcefully dragging them both into the hall.

  ‘No!’ yelled Eleaza. She dug her heels into the floor and fought his grip, blood thrumming in her ears and heart thudding wildly in her chest. ‘I do not want to go to Uryl! You cannot make me!’ She looked around. ‘Father!’

  Kronos stood by the gilded chair, shock filling his face, his limbs seemingly frozen to the ground. Attracted by her shouts, servants appeared from every corner of the palace. They stumbled and backed into the shadows when they saw the king, their faces white with fear.

  Her grandfather shook her, his fingers digging into her flesh. ‘Stop that!’

  ‘Let her go!’ screamed Kaleb.

  He punched and kicked at the king, tears swimming in his eyes. Their grandfather cast him violently to the ground before turning and slapping Eleaza across the face.

  She gasped, head snapping sideways, pain and horror rendering her speechless. A ringing noise drowned her hearing. Kaleb’s muffled shout reached her dimly, as did some of the servants’ cries. Then a hand clutched the end of the scarf sitting around her shoulders. She turned, relief flashing through her, gaze searching wildly for her father’s face.

  Instead, she found Emet. He stood trembling, fingers digging into the fabric his grandmother had woven.

  ‘No.’ Her voice rose, panic lacing her words. ‘Emet, go!’

  He shook his head and gazed up at the king. ‘You cannot take the princess. The Red Queen charged me with her care.’

  Though his voice quivered with fear, a trace of defiance underscored his voice.

  King Crovir stared at him. Fury and distaste twisted his features when he registered Emet’s hold on the scarf. His hand snaked out and closed around the boy’s throat.

  Emet choked, his eyes widening, feet swinging helplessly beneath him as he was lifted off the ground.

  ‘Stop!’ shrieked Eleaza. ‘Let him be!’

  She doubled her efforts to escape her grandfather’s cruel grip, hitting and kicking him with all the strength in her small body.

  King Crovir ignored her and studied Emet’s reddening face, as one would gaze upon an insect.

  ‘You forget your place, slave,’ he said in a voice devoid of emotion.

  Kronos took an unsteady step toward them. ‘Father, no. Stop—’

  Then she heard it. A snap. Like a branch breaking.

  Emet stilled in King Crovir’s grip, his body suddenly limp, his features going slack, his eyes staring. Empty. Unseeing. Dead.

  Eleaza’s breath froze in her throat. Her legs sagged beneath her and she collapsed to the floor, arm still in her grandfather’s vicious hold, her brother’s horrified screams and the servants’ shocked cries echoing in her ears.

  Emet’s body thudded softly to the ground as King Crovir let go. The latter grimaced and wiped his hand on his tunic before yanking her to her feet.

  She lolled in his grasp, her gaze locked on Emet’s face, unable and unwilling to comprehend what had just passed.

  ‘You will accompany us to Uryl as well,’ King Crovir told her father.

  Her grandfather walked over to where Kaleb lay shuddering, face white with terror. He hauled her brother to his feet and dragged them both toward the exit, tugging on their arms when they stumbled and fell, the servants scattering helplessly in their path.

  All the while, Eleaza stared over her shoulder at the dead boy on the ground, his fingers still clutching the scarf that had slipped from her shoulders.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Helena stared at Mila unseeingly, her face as white as a sheet. All around them, her siblings and cousins glanced at each other, their pain and horror plain to see.

  ‘That is—’ started Tobias.

  ‘What I suspected
all along,’ interrupted Baruch in a harsh voice.

  Hosanna’s hand closed over his clenched fist on the table.

  They were in Larraak, where Navia had convened a secret gathering. It had taken some of them a day to get there from their respective cities, the storm that swept across the plains from the mountains to the east slowing their progress. Only Kronos and the kings’ wives, bar Helena, were missing. It was Mila who had insisted upon it.

  ‘I only want mother to come for the time being,’ she told Navia and Jared when they were still in the desert. ‘It will be less suspicious than having all the wives in your city.’ She frowned then. ‘I will go to Issin to talk to Kronos personally. But only after I speak with the others.’

  Navia hesitated before nodding. Then she closed her eyes and concentrated. In the moments that followed, Mila knew she was sending out a direct message to the others’ minds. It was rare and taxing for her to communicate in this fashion with Immortals but it was the fastest way to get everyone to Larraak.

  Aäron had accompanied them and stood leaning against a wall to her left, arms folded across his chest, posture relaxed and face composed.

  Mila was not fooled. She could tell he was tense from the way a muscle occasionally twitched in his cheek.

  ‘And you saw this? All of it?’ whispered Helena, glancing from Mila to Navia.

  Navia nodded. Mila clenched her jaw and slowly dipped her chin.

  Helena rose and walked over to wrap her arms around her. Mila blinked before relaxing in her hold, a wave of relief flooding through her and causing her breath to catch in her throat. The burden she had carried since Romerus’s death seemed to lighten fractionally. She felt the wetness of tears against her temple and gripped her mother’s arm tightly.

  Rafael rose and paced across the room, fingers spearing through his hair.

  ‘But why?’ he said in a tortured voice. ‘Why would Crovir do such a thing?’ He paused. ‘Was it— was it because of Hazaara?’

  Helena slowly straightened. ‘No, Rafael. Children, you must not blame yourselves. What you did for Hazaara all those months ago was the righteous thing to do.’ She paused. ‘Even if Mila had not defied him and stoked his rage, Crovir would likely still have killed Romerus some day.’ She closed her eyes briefly. ‘For the longest time, I had sensed his growing bitterness toward our father. But never in a thousand years did I think he would act upon his base desire.’ She swallowed convulsively. ‘He is truly a monster.’