by Linn Tesli
”As brilliant as ever.” Sol sighed. She had lived in Georganna’s shadow all her life. It wasn’t easy being the twin sister of the Queen of Earth, no matter how skilled a witch Sol had grown into. She could manipulate the earth too, but it didn’t always turn out the way she intended, and nature didn’t always listen, not as it did with Georganna. Plus, Sol needed words, whereas Georganna spoke to the element of earth without so much as a second thought. The two of them might be sisters, but they were not the same.
”I was thinking of maybe doing something like this for the winter solstice celebration this year, only in a larger scale, of course.” Georganna wiggled her tangerine eyebrows. She knelt next to the trunk of a tree and placed the flower on the ground. It sunk slightly before the stalk became one with the soil as if it had grown from the spot where it now stood.
”With everything that is going on in Aradria right now, you really think this is what you should be worried about?” Sol shook her head.
”It would be a good reminder that the monarchs are about peace and order, not violence and deceit. I do not understand where everyone has gotten the idea that we are all part of some conspiracy where we want our subjects to suffer.”
”Maybe because people are suffering? Trades go wrong, people quarrel and starve—and the five of you appear only to be watching. With the amount of power between you, there has to be more you can do.”
Georganna closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. ”There are limits to what even we can do. You know that. Besides, we cannot interfere with people’s desires. They all have minds of their own, as Mother Nature wanted it. We do try, and we do help where we can.” She set her eyes on Sol. ”You doubt us, sister? Even you?”
Sol shrugged. She had never doubted Georganna in the past, and she knew what the monarchs stood for. There was this constant whisper at the back of her mind which told her that Georganna could no longer be trusted. She could not shake the whispers, and it was slowly becoming a part of her new convictions. The monarchy was failing.
”Of course not,” Sol heard herself say. ”I’m merely pointing out what people might be thinking. I’m trying to help, too.” She lied. Whatever the whispers were, she could not deny what they told her. Either way, they spoke the truth. It was time for the monarchs to step down, and for the witches and sorcerers of the world to rise to power. If Georganna would not step down willingly, then Sol would have to do whatever it took to make her. That was what was best for their people.
Sol shook herself and pulled out the pins within her golden tresses, releasing her hair into thick cascades falling over her shoulders. She might as well let the strands flow freely. The time for appearances was over. All that mattered now was that pup. Taking a deep breath, she stood and walked the space of The Eye. Five high seats of stone loomed behind her as if bellowing to her from the grave. Bermunnos was hers alone to manage now, as it had been over two centuries ago. There was no way she could have foreseen this turn of events, but the path was clear to her now. Everine could not refuse if she had the boy’s best interests at heart, though Ondox had been right. Sol knew Everine well enough to know that she could be unbelievably stubborn. It could be that she would refuse Sol’s request, no matter what she offered. Sol didn’t care what Everine did with her life, but she did care about Birken’s son.
One way or the other, Birken’s pup would return to his rightful people, and her.
5
MADNESS
- Zarcos -
Zarcos jumped off the back of the Vulkan eagle before the beast touched its talons on the stone rail of the tower walk. The Silverling landed with a thump at the same time as the eagle settled beside him. Zarcos gave his companion a firm pat on its femoral neck. It had been an interesting flight. The air was full of ash, and there were hardly any birds, which was unusual.
His mind was foggy like the air was ashen. It had gotten worse ever since he had come back to Cergentos. He shook his head, which did nothing but add to the growing headache. The pendant around his neck was heavy and warm against his chest. He had taken a risk procuring it, and he was yet to decide if it had been worth it. It was magical—that he knew. However, he had no idea how to use whatever strength it possessed. If nothing else, he was keeping it out of the hands of his enemies. He grinned. It had most definitely been worth it.
The eagle squawked and bounced back into the air as Zarcos moved down the tower walk, passing a multitude of guards as he went. Their shining white armor would be glinting if the sun had not been blocked out by all the fog. They had lost a significant number of men in the recent battles, but they were gathering their forces and gaining recruits by the day, even though some of them were human. It might not be enough, however. Not unless they could find a strong ally. Also, with the Heartless King gone, there were few Aradrians left who might be willing to join forces with his people. The Jotters, perhaps, though they had likely gone underground. They were not known for their courage.
Zarcos scoffed. When had the Silverlings ever needed allies? Sure, when Archenon was king they worked for him, but he would pay them well for their services. With the half-elf gone, that was another source of coin missing. The Silverlings would starve if they didn’t continue to claim taxes from the Caradreans. However, the people of Caradrea seemed to be catching on that there was a new High Monarch in Aradria. They were starting to object. They would pay, either way, Zarcos thought, or face the wrath of his men. The Zila’r-nath had been masters of this land for over two centuries. Even Lord Xyces answered to them. They were not about to bow to some younglings’ claim on the Elemental thrones.
The stone stairwell in the northern tower was steep, and every step Zarcos took sent an echo bouncing off the walls, increasing the incessant thumps in his head. He eventually strode out into stone clad streets of Cergentos. The noise of clinging metal and crackling fires was comforting. They might be short on coin, but there was no shortage of metal, especially after what they had been able to steal away from Bermunnos at the Battle of Ancient Creatures. The sour smell of urine was the greater concern. Hungry people meant more Silverlings were roaming the streets looking for ways to get coin or food. There were too many widows to count, and a good number of them had taken to work that wasn’t befitting for Silverling women. He shuddered. The widows would not have to work at all if his men were not paying them. The guards often took pleasure from women outside the walls, which was beneficial. It made humans fear them more than they already did. Nevertheless, Cergentos was their home, and their women should not degrade themselves. It painted a picture of his kin that Zarcos wanted to be destroyed.
He turned a corner and entered the town square. There were a couple of booths and some kids still out, but otherwise, the square was quiet. Zarcos stopped, not sure why. His feet quit listening to him for a moment, then they moved again, though not in the direction Zarcos had planned. He came to a halt in front of a fire-breather who stood in the shadows. The walls behind the young Silverling lit up as the fire roared from his open mouth. It was mesmerizing. Zarcos didn’t think he had ever enjoyed flames this much before. His skin prickled, and the chain around his neck turned increasingly heavy.
He shook his head in another attempt to clear his mind. Again it proved futile. He had to get going. Barbos would be expecting him, and he could not spend his day standing still. With some effort, he stepped away from the fire-breather and walked the remainder of the distance to the city court. The sandstone building was the largest monument in Cergentos. All important affairs were handled there, and these days they had plenty of tasks to deal with.
A couple of guards greeted him with light nods as he stepped through the square of stone that served as the entrance to the court. Striding up the following stairwell, two steps at a time, he eventually reached the grand hall.
Barbos sat on the third step leading up to the platform where Zarcos had his seat. He had not had the pleasure of using that seat much since he took his place as captain. And he wasn’t sure if he w
ould be using it much going forward either. A captain needed to stay on his feet, not slouch in some fancy chair.
”Captain.” Barbos stood. Despite his age, the young Silverling had the markings of a lieutenant on his shoulders; a mirror scarification image of the Hel hound.
Zarcos tilted his head at the lieutenant, who was also his closest advisor.
”We have matters to discuss,” Barbos said.
”I’m sure,” Zarcos replied. ”But first, what can you tell me about trapping spirits?”
”My liege?”
A surge of hot energy suddenly rushed through Zarcos’s veins. He shook himself, ignoring the sensation. ”Forget it. It does not matter. Don’t we have more important issues to attend to.”
Barbos would have raised his eyebrows if he’d had any, but gestured for Zarcos to sit. ”I have disturbing news. Did you happen to notice something unusual on your ride today?”
”The air was clouded, and I saw no birds.”
Barbos nodded. ”They all sense it.”
Sensed what? ”Well, get to it, then? What is going on?”
”I... A raven arrived with news from Lord Hadeth. It seems... this will sound ridiculous… he says there’s a dragon inside Vulkan.”
Zarcos’s heart pounded against his chest, and he sucked in a breath. His entire insides jerked at the message. ”A dragon?” he wheezed. His voice sounded unfamiliar, like it was not his own.
Barbos shrugged. ”Hadeth must have completely lost his silver, Captain. Dragons are not real.”
”Sure they are. Or they were. I think we need to take this news seriously.”
His advisor pulled a hand over his scarred scalp. He had more scarifications than most of Zarcos’s men, a sign of sincere devotion for his ancestors. His skin was almost more white than it was silver at this point. His purple eyes were bright, almost pink — a rare trait among their kin.
”If you say so.”
”I do. I have never seen the air like I did today. I can almost feel the heat all the way from Lycobris. A dragon or not, something is causing Aradria to stir.” Zarcos studied his advisor. Barbos clearly had more to say. ”Go on.”
”Hadeth says he has put a bounty on the head of the young fire born. They have begun calling him the Prince of Fire in Lycobris. I don’t think Hadeth is very pleased with that. He wants to know if we can carry the message of the bounty to the Caradreans…“
”And you think we should claim that bounty ourselves?”
Barbos’s eyes were smiling.
”If we get the chance, why not? However, the fire born is currently safe in the white castle, surrounded by elemental powers besides his own. How do you propose we capture him?”
Zarcos cupped his hands around the armrests on the high-backed chair. ”He’s bound to leave those walls sooner or later. A fire born can’t stay in the spirit city for long. He’ll return home. Moreover, Hadeth believes he’s coming for his seat of power, which judging by recent events is a fair assumption.”
”Can we spare enough men?”
”Cergentos is more vulnerable than it has ever been. But yes, I think it’s worth the reward.” Zarcos raised his hairless brow. ”Anything else?”
Barbos tucked a hand inside his chest pocket and retrieved a scroll. He shook it lightly with one hand, allowing the parchment to roll down from the canister. Zarcos sighed. He had wanted the position as captain more than anything. Matters of meretrixes and grain wasn’t what he had bargained for, however. Still, it had to be dealt with. They were not about to finish their conversation for a while yet. As Barbos continue to list all the matters which were in need of attention, Zarcos’s mind drifted. An image of a blazing fire entered his head. His veins pulsated like he had been running for days, and his neck was moist with sweat.
Something was terribly wrong with him.
6
INHERITANCE
- Everine -
Everine leaned against Maud as the Earthling helped her sit on a bench in the royal garden. The breath of fresh air was a relief after the days spent on bed rest, but the pain in Everine’s stomach was worse when she moved. She had to get out of her chambers, however. Moreover, she had to start caring for her son herself. Ayva and Gaija had done most of the caring while Everine recovered, and Berg was growing extremely fast.
”Thank you for coming here.” Everine placed a hand on Maud’s forearm. ”I still feel bad I had to leave you behind in Beregend before your son was born.”
“Don’t even think about it. You had the battle to get to. Besides, Sereana was great once she came around, and everything turned out well enough. I was so excited to hear about Birken’s son, in any case. Who would have thought? An Earthling half-breed! I never even knew you were with child when we were in the tunnels. You were so skinny. I guess I should have known, though. Your face was always so shiny, even covered in dirt.” Maud smiled.
”Neither did I,” Everine confessed. ”I had only just sensed something the day we escaped from the earth, but there was no time to consider that it was anything but my stomach shouting for food.”
”Earthlings take their time, you know. Even if he’s only half Earthling, it wouldn’t be as strange. The seed is planted months before it starts to sprout. But when it finally takes hold, the baby grows fast. Also, since he’s only half an Earthling, I suppose the process is unclear. It did take longer for you to start showing than is normal.”
Berg crawled towards his new playmate in the royal garden. Thorgrim was already learning to stand. His small fingers wrapped around the talons on a marble depiction of a dragon by the entrance to the white castle. Berg crashed into Thorgrim’s legs, crawling past, and Thorgrim landed on his bottom. The two boys grimaced at each other, then Thorgrim leaned toward Berg, falling on top of him. The boys giggled with delight. Everine couldn’t help but be reminded of how strange it was when she had heard Ayva’s giggles in the first dawn of her daughter’s life. The boys were developing fast too, though Berg could not quite keep up with his full-blooded kin.
”We won’t be staying much longer.” Maud cut through Everine’s waves of thought.
”Oh, please do!” Everine didn’t want them to leave. It was nice to have a friend around, and even if she wanted Maud to stay for her own sake, Everine was more concerned about Berg not having Thorgrim to play with. There were no other Earthlings in Êvina and though he was different from Thorgrim, they were more similar than her son was to another Êvinian.
Maud stroked Everine’s cheek with the back of her hand. ”Thorgrim needs to be in Bermunnos around other Earthlings. So does your son. You lived among us for such a long time, Ev. Sol would welcome the both of you back with open arms.”
It was tempting. Bermunnos had been a good place to raise a child. However, the destruction and the dead that Everine had left behind in the Chasm would make it difficult for her ever to decide to return. The loss was too much to bear, even from afar, and her own loss would not be bearable at all were it not for her children. She didn’t have many friends left in Bermunnos, and Sol would be in mourning herself. She had been with Ragnar for a long time. Come to think of it, Everine had no idea for how long, though Birken had told her they had been together his entire upbringing.
”I wish I could, but my place is here, with Ayva.”
”As you wish.” Maud stood and jogged over to Thorgrim. She picked him up at a sprint and swung him around, his feet dangling in the air. A joyful giggle returned her laughter, and Maud rubbed her nose against his. She threw her head back at Everine. ”I’ll take him inside for a bath.”
Berg’s small arms reached for Maud as she walked past him. His eyes turned to Everine when Maud had gone through the doors. Everine blinked, and when she opened her eyes, her son was pulling at the fabric of her dress. That was impossible. He had been several strides away from her.
What had just happened? Had he performed magic?
No! If Everine knew about anything, it was that raising a magical child was full of
obstacles and hard work. She had not done it right the first time. However, maybe she was wrong, and the herbs Gaija had fed her made her mind fuzzy.
Everine lifted Berg onto her lap, and the stitches on her stomach threatened to spring open. He was unusually heavy for his age. She kissed him on his forehead; the sensation was like putting your lips on a mountain’s back. His skin didn’t have the smoothness of a human child. Golden locks had already grown to his shoulders, and whenever she looked into his gaze, she was reminded of his father. Berg looked so much like his father that it was sometimes hard to be reminded of Birken every time she looked into the face of their son. They would never know each other, and Birken would not be around to help Everine raise him—the way he had with Ayva.
The doors to the castle opened, and Ayva stepped outside. ”Ondox is here to see you, Mother.”
A smile spread out on Everine’s lips as she heard the flapping wings of the gryphon soaring through the air. The wind tousled her hair as he landed with a thud in front of her.
Ayva stepped around him and hugged his neck. ”Good to see you again so soon.”
”You too, Your Highness.” Ondox winked. ”Everine.”
”Old friend,” Everine replied.
Ayva went to Everine’s side, taking Berg in her arms, and knelt on the ground with the toddler snuggling in her embrace.
The feathers on Ondox’s wings rustled as he straightened himself. ”I have come with a message.”
The tone of his voice made Everine push back on the bench, and she fought the urge to yelp at the pain that shot through her abdomen. ”Very well,” she said.
The gryphon cleared his throat. ”Sol sends her congratulations. She wants you and your son to return to the Chasm so that you may raise him there.”
