by Rachel Crist
A hundred men lie dead on the main floor—a graveyard of the unburied. All dead but for a small group of assassins—and my sister.
My veins chill. Did she kill these men? Is killing all my sister is capable of? I swallow back the bile in my throat.
The assassins shift and an uneasiness settles over me. Laying on the ground with an arrow sticking out of his chest is Bellek.
I startle when Reddik touches my arm. He motions for me and my uncle to return to the hall. The image of my sister standing among the dead churns my stomach. Unable to hold in the bile any longer, I rush to a statue along the wall. My stomach heaves until it is empty.
“What did you see?” Amah interjects.
I try to ignore Reddik’s muttered explanation.
I hear a shout and look over my shoulder. Two soldiers are dragging another by the arms, rushing him to my feet.
“We found him still breathing, but only barely,” one of the soldiers huffs out.
I kneel down and place my hand on the crusted blood on his head. I close my eyes and work quickly, mending the injury and returning him back to health.
A door bursts open as I open my eyes. A mass of assassins comes running through and I scramble to my feet. Their weapons are drawn, and they’re led by a giant man with gruesome scars splaying out from beneath his mask.
Cam plants himself in front of me as guards draw their swords. Amah, however, rushes pass me and screams at the top of her lungs. She sounds feral and deadly. The Violet Guards follow her, their swords meeting those of our enemies.
Reddik rushes me. “Take this.” He hands me one of his short blades before dashing away to Regent Grif.
Cam has his sword up, preparing to greet those who are able to slip through our guards. “Princess, stay behind me! No matter what.”
I inch back and step behind another statue. I watch as the chaos unfolds. Amah’s blade meets that of the scarred man blow for blow, refusing to give him any advantage. She fights viciously, as if her life depends on it.
Regent Grif is nearby and locked in a battle of his own, with Reddik at his back and engaged with another. They both seem one with their blades as they take down their opponents with ease.
Amah falling to the ground grabs my attention. My heart pounds inside my chest seeing her scramble away from the assassin’s deadly blows. Get up, Amah, get up! Amah maneuvers quickly and rolls to her side, but it isn’t good enough. The assassin arcs his blade, cutting her across her abdomen.
“Nooo!!” I speed towards Amah with Cam shouting after me. But I’m too quick and I throw myself over Amah, hoping to block the assassin’s killing blow. I squeeze my eyes shut as a sharp pain shoots over the side of my head. My last thought before I black out is how warm and wet my hands are from being on Amah.
27
Vera
Come on, Bellek. Wake up. Wake up! I slap him hard across the face. He coughs roughly as he looks down at his chest. “Shit!” He rests his head back on the ground, and takes a deep breath.
“W…what do you want me to do?” I stutter.
“Use one of your knives,” he says, “and cut it low.”
I swallow. “Okay.” I grab one of the knives at my belt and begin sawing on the shaft. He cringes and gasps. Nate, Murrow, and Karl kneel down and hold him steady.
When the shaft snaps off Nate offers his hand to help Bellek up. Surprisingly the stubborn man takes it. I look around the room to the devastation I caused. How many more will I have to kill before this war is over? I should feel guilty for my actions, but I don’t. All I feel is a numbness, as if my feeling receptors have been burned away. When my sister finds how much blood is on my hands, I doubt she’ll want me at her side—not now.
“Was that Bruce who ran by with all those men?” Bellek gruffs.
“Yeah. Leave it to Bruce to show up right after Vera’s done the hard part,” Murrow scoffs.
“He’s probably looking for my sister. I knew the king wouldn’t completely trust me to do the job.”
Bellek clenches his jaw. “Vera, I need to tell you…” He stops at the sound of footsteps coming towards us. We quickly position ourselves around Bellek, and I keep my mind sharp.
Bruce comes bursting back down the grand staircase carrying a girl. He bounds over scattered bodies and rushes past us. The long, black hair that flows behind him tells me it’s Livia.
I take off after him, maneuvering between fallen men, then out the front doors. Bruce begins strapping Livia to his horse, and I rush to Provena and prepare to follow.
Bellek and the others find horses of their own and we take after Bruce across the bridge. We ride swiftly through the city, our horses hurdling fallen soldiers from both sides, and bypassing bursts of battles along the way, my gift keeping our path clear.
A large section of the outer wall lies in shambles. Bodies are scattered over the ground; dust still rises from the debris. We gallop through the fallen gate, and enter into the clangor of sword fighting. The once perfect white snow across the covered field is now a bloodied slush, littered with hundreds of lifeless bodies. In between battlements and under our shifting feet, I see stray limbs and more corpses—once men, who are no longer recognizable. Red masks lay strewn around—more than I can count.
The moment we reach camp, Captain Leech comes out to greet us. “Commander Vera! Bellek! Am I ever glad to see you both alive.”
“Captain,” I say.
“How are our men doing on the inside?” he asks.
“Still fighting strong. Unfortunately, too many of our own are being cut down.”
He nods grimly.
“Our healer is set up inside the tent,” he says to Bellek. “It seems you might need to visit.”
“Mind your business,” Bellek grumbles.
I look over my shoulder and see Bruce grabbing supplies and latching them to his saddle. He isn’t wasting any time getting the king's prize to him. I know I have to follow.
“Bellek, I have to go with Bruce. I reinstate you as Commander of the Silent Watchers. They’re all yours now.”
“Hold your horse, Vera. I need a moment.”
He leads me away from the others. “I want you to listen carefully. You need to save your sister.”
“What!” I burst.
“Let me finish. Before my capture, I saw her welcomed by the Westerners. They worship her. All I could envision was how that could’ve been you. That could’ve been you feeling the love of these people, not a girl being beaten by my damn selfish nephew. Then I thought it can still be you. I don’t know how, but when your sister came to me after a brutal beating, she defended me and wanted my help saving you. I saw your chance.”
“How can you speak this way?” I spit. “She’s only out to kill me. She wants to secure her throne, and make sure I stay out of her way. And how can you speak of this so confidently to me? Do you know how betrayed I felt when I discovered you hadn’t told me of her? You’ve claimed for so long that you love me as your own, and I always thought you wanted the best for me. Why didn’t you ever tell me of her? And why did you never tell me I could be a queen?”
“I’m an Easterner. That’s where my loyalty lies, and it always has. I do as I’m told when duty to my kingdom calls. I do want the best for you. And I try to give that to you as best I can within my limits. What good would it have done you, to know you have a sister? Would it have made your life any better? Would it have changed anything? No.” He shakes his head. “Do you know what your sister said to me?”
I don’t respond.
“She said, Surely if she means anything to you, you know that her being here would be much better for her. How long must you watch her suffer under your nephew’s hand?”
He reaches over and takes my hand. I freeze. This is the first time he’s ever touched me. I look around, panicked.
“Forget the king's stupid rules. Look at me.” My eyes shift back to him. “Your sister cares. I’d tried to kidnap her, and yet she cared about how I was being tre
ated. And she cares about how you are treated. You might’ve done wrong, Vera, but she can help you get back the good life that was stolen from you. She’s your second chance at something good. Don’t believe the rumors of her wanting you dead. Some things are spread to make war.”
The sorrow in his eyes breaks me. He would let me go so that I can be happy. His words scream betrayal against the Eastern King, but I see something has changed, and he doesn’t care.
“It’s too late,” I mutter. “I’ve killed so many. And she’s on her way to the king now.”
Bellek’s gaze turns stern. “Then take back what’s yours.”
* * *
I keep Provena a ways back, not wanting to be too close to Bruce. I know I can’t take Bruce down, not with that stone around his neck.
Now that Livia is being taken to the king, I will soon uncover what whispers the Woman of the Scree has been feeding the Eastern King these many years. Soon I will know the true madness of their plans. A chill sweeps through me, and it isn’t from the snow-covered landscape surrounding me.
28
Livia
I’ve heard about The Wall, how massive and indestructible it used to be when magic was woven through it. Even without magic it has stood for hundreds of years—until now.
I stare at the gaping hole, an impressive feat that was said could never happen. And my sister, Vera, is the one responsible for its destruction.
I tilt my head from side to side, trying to stretch out the soreness in my neck. My captor is relentless with his travel; we’ve ridden for two days non-stop, and my body is screaming in protest.
Vera has kept her distance the entire time. It is unnerving being so close, and not to be able to speak to her. I’m sure she’s only following to make sure I am delivered safely to the king. I was hoping Bellek would have talked some sense into her, but with the passing of two days and her not so much as lifting a finger… she has left me on my own. Even so, my emotions are twisted, having a sister near me who massacred an entire room. It plays over and over in my mind. How do I deal with that?
I shake my head. None of it matters. What matters are the people left far behind me. My chest tightens yet again. The image of Amah lying in a pool of her own blood flashes across my mind. Without me there to heal her, she will not survive.
Anger follows but it’s in vain. For the past two days I’ve tried to unleash the dark side of my gift. I even tried to heal my captor, just to see if my gift works at all, but nothing came of that either. I know something is wrong. He is immune somehow. But that shouldn’t happen—should it?
The assassin takes off again. Dread settles over me as we enter the Eastern Kingdom. The cold air from the West falls away and is replaced by a sticky dry heat. The change is sudden, and shocking. Already sweat starts to form on my neck.
Cover from the pines helps shield us from the heat, but it’s not long until we pass through that small comfort, and come face to face with mountainous terrain.
Mountains of rock circle my horizon. They are almost beautiful as they stretch high into the sky, their tops lying hidden amongst the sparse clouds. To the north, a brilliant stone arena rises up from the ground, looking like an extension of the mountains that surround it.
Tufts of grass holding desperately to life poke out from the hard ground below. The sight alone leaves me feeling parched, reminding me I’ve had nothing to drink for two days.
Black Ridge Castle towers above us, muting the sun and casting haunting shadows. Images of different kinds of torture fill my head, causing the beat of my heart to quicken. I pray to the Maker this place won’t be the end of me. I also pray my uncle sends someone after me—and fast.
We pass through a steady flow of people carrying on in what seems to be planned urgency. They ignore us, except for two who come to fetch the horses. The giant assassin dismounts, lifts me to his shoulder and takes me with him. My wrists burn something fierce from the harsh rope he’s used to tie a knot around them.
He takes my arm and guides me through a cave-like structure, then up into the castle. We pass through long corridors with vases placed neatly along the walls and lit torches between each window. The soft rugs under our feet mute our steps. It’s as if the decor tries to balance out the obsidian stone that sucks out the light from everything it can.
I look over my shoulder and see Vera following behind us. The assassin jerks me forward. Anger rushes up and I grit my teeth. I can’t let this place defeat me. I must stay strong.
Two large double doors come into view, manned by red-masked assassins on either side. I focus on my anger and prepare to face the king.
When the doors open, I see the king sitting upon a black, ornate throne. His robes are like dark shadows that match his castle. I had envisioned him to be a harsh looking man, and I’m surprised by blond hair framing an angelic face.
The assassin releases me, and unties my wrists before joining the king on the dais. The king and I look at one another, neither of us looking away. He smiles. “Welcome to the Eastern Kingdom, Princess Livia,” he smiles sweetly. “Your travels must have exhausted you?”
“Of course, I’m exhausted,” I retort. “Don’t demean me so.”
His expression softens. “Please forgive me. It wasn’t my intent.” He snaps his fingers, and a serving girl steps forward.
“A room has been prepared for you,” he says. “I’m sure you are hungry and are in need of a bath. You will find my servants instructed to do whatever you wish.” The corner of his mouth curls up. “Except leave, of course. Once you are presentable, I will come visit you. I’m sure you and I have plenty to discuss.”
I deeply doubt that.
The serving girl grabs my hand and takes me away. Glancing back, Vera watches me with a frown upon her lips. She was probably expecting me to be treated much differently—as was I.
I yank my hand back from the girl.
“I don’t mean to be rude but my wrists are fragile at the moment.”
“Yes, princess. Please forgive me, princess,” she says. “Come this way; we’ll be in your chambers soon.”
Her small voice is kind and I feel shame for speaking to her so harshly. It’s not her fault that she serves a wicked man. So I quietly follow, and try not to cause her any trouble.
She leads me to a large chamber with a fire lit inside. The furniture is simple, unlike the elegance of such rooms back home. No intricate designs or popping colors, only solid reds and golds. A plate of steaming food and bread are placed nearby. My stomach rumbles.
“A bath has been drawn up for you, princess. Right through those doors.” She points across the room to another chamber. “Do you need my assistance?”
I shake my head. “I’ll be fine on my own. Thank you.”
“As you wish, princess. New garments hang inside the standing chest in the corner. They are yours. We took measurements from your sister so they should fit you perfectly.” She turns, and leaves.
I rush over to the food and shove a roll in my mouth. My stomach grumbles in response. I finish off two more rolls and a bowl of soup before I peel off my dust-layered dress that’s covered in blood, and slip into the warm water.
I soak as long as possible, letting the heat caress away the pain. For a hostage, my prison isn’t as harsh as I imagined it would be. But I know these temporary comforts mask the reality of my situation.
When I’m finished, I braid my hair and look through the many gowns. I hope for something simple but I am quickly disappointed. It seems fabric was scarce for the making of these dresses, and I desperately try to find the least revealing one. Once I do, I slip it on and stand in front of the mirror. The neckline plunges down to a point below my breasts, making me fully aware of what isn’t covered. I’m tempted to put the dress I traveled in back on, but it’s filthy and tattered.
A knock comes at my door, and it opens before I have a chance to answer it. King Kgar enters.
I swallow back my nerves as he strolls over to the table an
d pours two glasses of wine. He hands one to me as his eyes roam over my scarce attire. I tilt my chin up refusing to let my insecurities show.
“Come, let us sit and speak with one another.” He motions to the chairs in front of the fire. I set the wine glass down, having no intention of drinking anything he’s handed me, and follow him over to the chairs.
He leans back and places one leg over the other. “Now, Livia. I’m sure you already know why I have you here. You must know of the prophecy?”
“I don’t, actually. I’ve never been told the prophecy in its entirety.”
His eyes widen. “Really? Interesting. Very interesting.”
“How so?” I ask.
“You are the future queen, the heir of the most powerful queen in all the four kingdoms. It’s surprising how much in the dark they have kept you.”
He has no idea.
King Kgar stands abruptly. “Come with me.”
Silent Watchers flank us the moment we leave my room. I keep up with the king’s long strides as he leads me down a dark corridor; moonbeams cast a dim light ahead of us. Our steps lead us up a stairwell and into a circular room where a roaring fire greets us. A boar’s head is mounted above the mantel, with a slew of weapons surrounding it.
King Kgar walks across the room and pulls back a curtain along the wall. “And here it is. The prophecy.” It’s a large tapestry with the four Guardians woven into the edges. In the middle, large gold letters reveal a prophecy that has been hidden from me my whole life.
On the first day of winter snow, take heed. True blood will be born anew. Be wary of the shadow, for death will follow. Bonding will save him and awaken what dwells inside. Together, nothing can stop them.
