Descent

by Charlotte McConaghy

  ‘I can’t believe how foolish I was,’ Fern muttered.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Dallying on the way home. Joking as if we had all the time in the world when we should have been riding hard the whole time. It was unthinkably stupid.’

  ‘Fern, it’s hardly your fault. Plus, no one got hurt.’

  ‘Your shoulder is wounded,’ he said bluntly. ‘Who knows what’s wrong with Jane after what she did. I should have known better.’

  Altor stared at him, realising that he’d never met someone so unwaveringly self-punishing. Shaking his head, he shut his mouth with a snap. He looked at the girl on Fern’s horse, and the way he encircled her perfectly, their bodies fitting together as if they’d been made that way.

  A tendril of the old anger flared in Altor’s stomach. But it felt different this time. Or, at least, it was spurred on by something different—the warm stickiness of envy. He wished, quite ridiculously, that she was sitting on his horse, but knew, with the same kind of certainty that he knew his own name, that she would not fit into his arms like she did in Fern’s.

  ‘We need to do something about this,’ Fern said.

  Altor looked at this man, his new friend, and thinking of something entirely different to the prince, he agreed.

  ‘Yes. We do.’

  Jane awoke the next morning, having slept for a full fourteen hours. Miraculously, she felt great. She yawned and stretched in the sun that was streaming through the window. Her good mood, however, waned in the light of figuring out how she was going to get through yet another day in this place.

  Perhaps it was time to move on. Her friends needed her, she knew that much. Maybe it would be more productive to head for Amalia and see what Accolon thought about the situation. Something needed to be done, but she wasn’t exactly experienced in war strategy. Jane had come to realise something about herself since arriving in Paragor though; she would always try her best to help in any way she could. Gone were the days when she resented expectations—she still feared them, but was no longer angered by them.

  Maybe her friends would have an idea about what to do. Jane decided to check in on them. First she did a quick sweep of all five of them without actually making contact.

  Anna was planning to make her way here to see her. Harry and Jack were still in Amalia—Harry was helping in the watch-tower while Jack remained at the palace. Mia was in Samaraq, and Jane was astonished to realise that she was aware of her past life, even if she didn’t remember it. A wave of warmth washed over Jane—she’d never been so proud of Mia. Lastly Luca—who was not far away at all.

  It occurred to Jane that she should have gone to see him. Torr was only a few hours ride from the Elvish city. If she hadn’t been so wrapped up in her own problems, she might have given a thought to how he was. Because it was clear, just from the contact of their minds, that he was not okay. There was something so dark about him that she had shuddered upon contact. She had been frightened of what she might find if she went to see him. Frightened that her best friend might not be there anymore.

  Like a coward, the thought made her pull her mind back without talking to any of them. In truth, she was worried what her friends would think when they realised she was staying in Fern’s palace. Two years ago she’d arrogantly told them all that he loved her, that he was going to leave his fiancé for her, and they’d all tried to warn her that he wouldn’t. She couldn’t bare the thought of what they would say when they found out. Especially Luca, who’d warned her so many times that it would end in tears.

  On top of all that, Jane had another, entirely different problem to think about. How in hell had she managed to do what she did last night? Kill those flying creatures with nothing but her mind? What did it mean that she could do something like that? A long time ago, Freyja had told her that she was only just discovering her power, and that she had so much more potential. Jane shook her head. It was way too freaky.

  She wondered with a giggle what her friends from school would say if they could see her do what she did last night. Or her mother. A pang of longing swept over her at the thought of her poor mother, left all alone with her father. But Jane had been pushing thoughts like those to the bottom of her mind for her whole life, and now was not the time to start dredging them up.

  Jane dressed and decided to go in search of Altor. He was the perfect distraction from another dreary day. Tomorrow she would figure out a plan of action. She rounded several palace corners and went through a few different rooms before she realised she was lost. Shivering and wishing she’d put on more clothing, she turned back to try and retrace her steps, stumbling upon something she very much regretted.

  Fern and Athena exited a room, laughing, and Jane saw with hard clarity that he had his arm around his wife, holding her tightly. Jane froze, hoping they would turn the other way and not spot her, but alas, no luck.

  Fern dropped his hands so abruptly that Athena had to right herself against the wall. Her face brightened when she spotted Jane.

  ‘How are you, dearest?’ she asked warmly, moving quickly to kiss Jane on the cheek. ‘Fern said you were very tired last night.’

  ‘Yeah, I was a bit. But I’m fine now, thanks. I slept like the dead.’

  ‘Good. You’re certainly having a tough time of it, aren’t you?’

  Jane flushed, hating how fragile she was. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly. ‘I hate being an imposition.’

  Athena laughed. ‘Jane! That’s not what I meant! We love having you here, don’t we Fern?’

  Fern’s eyes, which had never left Jane’s face, widened fractionally as he realised he was being addressed. ‘Of course,’ he said woodenly. ‘Of course we do.’

  ‘There now. Would you like to come for a walk with us?’ Athena offered.

  ‘No! Uh, no thanks. I was looking for Altor. Do you know where I could find him?’

  ‘He’s outside,’ Fern said. ‘Training. We were on our way there so we’ll show you the way.’

  Jane opened her mouth to decline, but Fern shot her a look, so she fell into step behind the couple and walked with her eyes on her feet. Every time she glanced up at Athena’s back, her eyes burned with guilt and jealousy.

  They walked out of the palace and through the city, winding through streets and over to the enormous arena on the east side. Jane sighed as she felt the soft grass under her feet. All the ice of the palace was a bit depressing. The arena was empty of spectators, but on the far side next to the jousting bar were a group of men and women. Altor was among them, and she smiled to see how small he looked next to the tall Elves. As usual, when among them, she, too, felt like a dwarf.

  The Elvish people were practicing their archery. There were several targets located at the other end of the arena, so far away that Jane could barely see them. She realised why when she spotted one of the bows—it was enormous.

  ‘It’s called a long bow,’ Fern told her, moving next to her while Athena greeted some of the women. ‘It’s used for long-distance archery.’

  ‘Like firing into the sky?’

  He nodded. ‘We have to find a better way to start beating these things.’

  Jane shifted a little further away from him, watching an Elf pull the long strings of the bow until it was taut, his bicep straining with the effort.

  ‘I don’t think shooting them with arrows is going to help much in the scheme of things,’ she muttered.

  Fern glanced at her, shrugging. ‘Every little bit helps. Even if this only works to make the people feel safer, then we’ll practice out here for as long as it takes.’

  ‘Can you fire that thing?’

  He nodded wordlessly. His focus had moved—he was now watching as Altor was passed the bow and stepped up to the mark. The boy notched an arrow and aimed, pulling it as tight as he could.

  ‘How far away is it?’ Jane asked, watching closely.

  ‘Two hundred metres.’

  Altor’s arrow fell onto the grass short of the target.
He looked over at where Jane and Fern were standing and offered them a wry smile. ‘Apparently I’m not as good as I thought I was,’ he said.

  Fern strode over to the boy and Jane, curious, followed.

  ‘Hold it higher,’ Fern said. Fern helped him to reposition his trajectory and pull the strings even tighter. This time Altor hit the target on the outer edge. ‘Your strength will grow with practice and soon you’ll be able to do that on your own,’ Fern assured him.

  Altor nodded and passed the bow to the older man. Fern grinned and passed it on to the woman next to him.

  Altor eyed the prince. ‘Scared you won’t match up?’

  Fern shrugged. ‘I’ve had enough practice for one man. Give the others a chance.’

  Altor folded his arms, watching the action. His eyes started to wander and then came to focus on Jane.

  ‘Pretty lady,’ he murmured, kissing her hand.

  ‘Hi,’ Jane said, smiling. ‘I came looking for you.’

  ‘You did?’ he asked, smiling dangerously. ‘Lucky me. Shall we go for a walk?’

  She nodded and the two of them walked from the arena, all the while aware of Fern’s eyes following.

  ‘How are the tear ducts this morning?’ Altor asked.

  ‘Still unused!’ she answered brightly. ‘I promised I wouldn’t cry, remember? There’s no reason to—I’m fine.’

  ‘That’s my girl.’

  They walked onto the street and headed down the hill. ‘Let me show you a place I found the other day,’ she said, smiling and taking his hand to lead him along.

  Altor faltered briefly as he felt her skin against his. She took him into a courtyard and over to the other side where a staircase wound up onto the roof of a building.

  ‘Nice view, huh?’ Jane said.

  It was one of the watch-towers that were built into the city walls. There was no one there at this time of morning, so the two of them could look out over the city in front of them, the plains behind, and down into the arena where the Elves were training.

  The Elves lined up in a row and fired together at the same target. Every arrow landed as dead centre as it could with so many vying for the bullseye.

  ‘Wow,’ Jane breathed.

  Altor nodded. ‘I’ve been down there with them all morning, and those people are like none I’ve ever come across. They’re trained a hundred times more thoroughly than any human in Paragor.’

  ‘They’re probably a lot older than anyone else in the world,’ she said.

  Altor’s face was carefully expressionless. ‘Will Fern age like a human? Or like them?’

  ‘He can’t die from old age or sickness. Only if he’s wounded.’

  Altor watched her for a long moment. Every second he spent with her, he admired her courage more. Taking a breath, he thought about his silent vow never to get involved in other people’s problems. Gods, he never usually wanted anything to do with anyone else unless they were offering him a drink or a warm bed at night. However, something drove him to speak.

  ‘How,’ he asked softly, watching her face, ‘can you love someone so blindly, when everything in the world points to the fact that you shouldn’t?’

  Startled, she looked into his eyes. ‘I don’t...’

  He smiled without any humour and covered her hand gently with his. ‘Do you want to head back now?’

  She sighed, shaking her head. ‘How long are you going to stay here, Al?’

  He shrugged. ‘I haven’t thought about it.’

  ‘Isn’t there anything you need to go home for? Any one?’

  Altor smiled darkly. ‘I’ve made sure that there isn’t.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Is that question truly so difficult?’

  She met his eyes as she realised the answer. ‘You distance yourself from everyone because you’ll be gone soon, is that it?’

  Altor smiled coldly. ‘You’ve put it more bluntly than anyone has ever dared. Thank you for the refreshing honesty.’

  ‘There must be a way to stop this, Altor,’ she said, her eyes blazing. ‘I’ll help you find it, I promise.’

  ‘Don’t waste your breath with promises. I’m more than happy to be gone from this miserable place sooner than the rest of you.’

  ‘That’s a horrible thing to say, and I don’t believe a word of it.’

  ‘Suit yourself,’ he shrugged, looking away from her.

  ‘Do you get the feeling that there’s something wrong?’ she said after a pause.

  Altor smiled bitterly. ‘Only one thing?’

  ‘Stop, Al. I mean in Paragor. Something unusual.’

  ‘Well the Valkyries...’

  ‘I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about ... everything. It all just seems to be going downhill.’

  ‘Cornelius is old and senile.’

  ‘But it’s not just him! Where was Accolon when all this was happening? Has he set up a proper defence force? And what is he doing about this slave trade I’ve been hearing about? It just seems to me like there is an awful lot of chaos, and no one is doing anything.’

  Altor stared at the figures below, his mind whirling. She was right. And he’d never given it a thought.

  He swallowed. This girl was not about make him start caring about things that had nothing to do with him.

  Altor shrugged. ‘Well I can’t think of anyone more suited to changing things than the mighty Bright Ones.’

  Jane sighed. ‘Ah. That’s right. The expectations. That’s one thing I could gladly live without.’

  ‘Trust me. I know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘The curse of royalty,’ she sighed.

  He grinned. ‘And the prophesised.’ Jane laughed softly. ‘Tell me how you know me,’ he said suddenly. ‘Tell me how it’s possible for you to miss someone you don’t know. What are you hiding from me, Jane?’

  The smile was still at her lips ‘I know it’s hard,’ she murmured, ‘not understanding why we have a connection, but you aren’t ready to know just yet. I promise I’ll explain one day.’

  Altor sighed grumpily and her smile widened.

  Without realising, because her eyes always seemed to gravitate back to him, she glanced down into the arena and saw Fern, his arms wrapped around Athena, kissing her passionately on the lips. It caused a kind of chasm in her chest. Like everything inside her was dropping away and there was nothing left except an aching wound.

  She stepped back away from the edge. Altor saw what she had been looking at, and his own body ached for her.

  ‘Jane, hey, it’s okay,’ he tried, but she kept backing away.

  She’d not yet cried, hadn’t shed a single tear over Fern, had told herself that she never would. But now, unstoppable tears streamed down her pale face.

  ‘It’s never going to stop hurting,’ she said and Altor’s own face creased in pain. He wanted to hold her, but he didn’t know if he should, nor how to. ‘And now that I’ve started I’m never going to be able to stop crying,’ she said shakily, trying to laugh. ‘I spend every night willing myself not to shed a tear,’ she whispered, wiping her eyes. ‘How ridiculous is that?’

  Altor stepped towards her, but Jane just shook her head and walked down the steps, out of his reach.

  Chapter 24

  There was going to be a raid. Bayard’s knights had been ordered on another mission against Followers in a bar in Luglio, a town on the coast between Torr and Karangul. Luckily it had dream protectors, or else Bayard would have never agreed to go there at night. All were to be captured and taken to the dock, where they would be dropped into the hands of the men running the secret detention camps for Followers.

  If only Bayard knew the truth. It was no mission to stop those who wished to rebel in the name of Leostrial. It was a raid for the slave trade, and Vezzet was going to get a substantial amount of coin for the delivery.

  Vezzet sat behind his desk and polished the wooden hand he’d lost to the snake of a woman, Satine. He smiled to himself. It was all too easy. He h
ad control of one of the world’s best army generals. Bayard was doing all his dirty work, completely unawares. And if Accolon ever decided he needed to involve himself in the affairs of Cynis Witron, well then, Vezzet had an entire army to fight for him, an entire army of men who thought they were fighting for their country. It was delicious.

  Soon, Vezzet would have enough money to start paying his mercenaries more, and then all the men in the world would want to join Karangul. Then, once he’d destroyed the Valkyries, he would take control of Paragor with laughable ease.

  Bayard was giving his knights the brief. ‘We enter and surround the men—they need to be secured before the women. Tie each person and make sure they’re a good body-length apart from each other. Don’t manhandle the women unless it is necessary—it will anger the men and cause more work. No speaking to any of them—they will try to convince you of their innocence. Do not forget these people are scum.’ There was an expression of disgust on Bayard’s face. ‘We want to take them cleanly this time. There will be no orders to kill. Get armoured and be ready in an hour.’

  His men were ready in under an hour so they rode early, the Captain on his stunning black mare, and his knights with their fierce hearts.

  It was evening by the time they arrived at Luglio and stopped outside the bar. One man, Evan, scouted the inside and came out again quickly.

  ‘About thirty people inside. Mostly men. A few serving women.’

  Bayard nodded. He looked at each of his knights. Thirty men meant more than a few weapons. So the knights would be relying on their skill, and the element of surprise. He had confidence, but there were no guarantees they would all come out alive.

  Captain Adon Bayard grinned, his teeth flashing in the darkness. He looked into the sky, and then he spoke the same words he used each time they set off on a mission, the words that never failed to send shivers of excitement down the spines of his men.

  ‘It’s a nice night to die, boys.’

  And with that he led them inside, swords raised. Screams and the sound of steel on steel sliced through the air; chaos, but that was to be expected.