Sacred Breath Series (Books 1-4)

by Nadia Scrieva

  Popping into one of the shops, she had used some of Vachlan’s money (she had intended to steal it from his safe, but unexpected events had resulted in him simply handing it to her) to purchase an elegant red coat with a heavy fur hood and trim at the sleeves. It was a ludicrously expensive garment which would easily blend in with the others being worn at the event; she would hide in plain sight, with the mink hood pulled down over her eyes.

  Returning to the gathering, Aazuria moved stealthily and confidently among the noblemen and noblewomen of Adlivun. She was pleased to see that many of the people her father had unfairly exiled had felt comfortable in returning to the country after news of his death had spread. She could not help feeling responsible for this small victory. She listened to their conversations and gauged that they had all made donations of various family heirlooms to the museum, and were excited to share their heritage with the world. It warmed her heart to see that the pride of her countrymen was being celebrated, and she wished that she could be more involved.

  When the royal family arrived, she observed that Trevain was clad in traditional Adluvian finery and flanked by the Ramaris twins. Queen Elandria had brought the four children with her to witness the opening of the museum; it was the first time Aazuria had seen her daughter since she had parted with her. Varia was dressed warmly in a deep green coat. The sunshine had tanned her skin considerably, and her hair was now a rich dark auburn instead of its usual silver. Both of her usually different-colored eyes had darkened, and Aazuria sighed in contentment to see how well she looked. She fought the desire to go to Varia and speak with her; she wanted to ask whether she liked her new life in the palace. Was Varia upset with her for giving her away? She hoped not.

  Glais was standing close to Varia, and the two seemed to be comfortable and friendly with each other. Aazuria found this reassuring as well; she was sure that the two brave kids would take care of each other. She sadly thought of Bain as she looked at the small boy—he seemed to be dealing with the loss quite well, or at least it appeared so on the surface. The tiny Japanese prince was dancing around the older kids, and hanging on Kolora’s heels. Aazuria could not look at the energetic boy without smiling. His family members, Yamako and Queen Amabie did not seem to be present at the event, and neither were Callder and Brynne anywhere to be seen.

  “He is positively precious!” one the highborn ladies near to Aazuria said to her friend. “I feel like I’m going to overdose from the adorableness.”

  “Someday Kaito will make a handsome prince,” her friend agreed. “What a sweet boy! He never knew Shiretoko, so he doesn’t realize that he is the prince of a vanquished nation; he doesn’t know how sad it really is. Never mind, he’s a son of Adlivun now!”

  Moving through the crowd, Aazuria came upon some of Adlivun’s more elderly lords, men who were even older than she was; they had migrated to the Bering Sea along with her father when the country had first been settled.

  “Hmph, it’s about time we had a museum. Those selfish land-dwellers need to be educated about the fact that they aren’t the only ones on this planet! They should act like it, and stop dumping their filth into our homes.”

  “I concur, my good man! The Exxon Valdez was a prime example of their foolishness, but then the BP oil spill! I wish the sea would rise up and swallow them all.”

  “Sometimes it does,” said another man with a hearty laugh. He gestured to the podium where Elandria was giving Trevain a kiss before his speech. “Just look at her! Nothing like the wee little lass she used to be. So shy and quiet.”

  “Hmph. It’s always the sign of a prosperous state when the queen gets fat.”

  “I think she’s more attractive this way,” another of the old men said with a wink. “I prefer my ladies to have some voluptuous curves—more meat to grab hold of.”

  Aazuria rolled her eyes and tried to refrain from uttering a sound of disgust as the men vulgarly discussed her sister’s body. She made a mental note to find some way to punish Adlivun’s founding fathers for their disrespectful behavior.

  “I simply cannot agree with you!” one of the men said firmly. “I much preferred the tight little body of Queen Aazuria. Oh, she was a pleasure to look at!”

  “King Trevain is a lucky man, isn’t he? He got to try the best of both worlds.”

  Aazuria could not resist viciously shoving her way between the men, allowing her shoulders to collide roughly with both of the offensive individuals. She kept her head down and her hood over her face as she made it look like she had accidentally smashed into the ‘gentlemen.’

  “Pardon me, my lords,” she said sarcastically as she pivoted and briskly moved away, weaving herself through the crowd to find a less repulsive place to stand. She smiled to herself slightly as she heard the Adluvian aristocrats cursing about the clumsy stranger. Her smile disappeared when a familiar voice began to speak into the microphone.

  Aazuria wrapped her arms around her midsection and cast her gaze on the brightly-colored shoes of the woman standing in front of her. Trevain’s voice washed over her with warmth as he began to talk about the museum, explaining first why they had chosen to name it after her younger sister. He recalled how Corallyn had loved museums, and she tilted her chin up slightly to gaze at him from beneath her fuzzy hood. Her eyes drifted to the elegant traditional lettering carved into the stone of the building with the museum’s name on it: Corallyn Centennial Museum. She swallowed back a lump of emotion and linked her hands together beneath her furry sleeves.

  “I spent forty years of my life catching crabs,” Trevain told the audience with a smile. “If you had asked me, just a few short years ago, to tell you a little bit about the Bering Sea, I would have said, ‘Well, there are lots of crabs, but that’s pretty much all. There’s nothing special about those freezing seas once you get past the crabs.’ How wrong I was!” The audience chuckled at his words and he turned to gesture at the building. “Today we celebrate the grand opening of an institution dedicated to showing the whole world just how wrong they are! Just how wrong they have been all this time; relics of centuries of undersea life are on exhibition for the pleasure and education of the general public, and anyone who wants to learn about the true splendor beneath the sea.”

  The sound of polite clapping was heard as Trevain continued to joke lightly. “And if you search really hard, you might even find a few crabs in there. I am happy to announce that we have our first field trip to the museum today; I can’t wait to hear what my extremely critical young niece thinks of the exhibits. Queen Elandria will do us all the honor of cutting the ribbon with this humongous pair of scissors… wow! Where on earth do you buy a pair of scissors this big?”

  Had he always been so good with a crowd? Aazuria wondered this as she observed his easy way of entertaining the aristocrats and smiling for the cameras. He seemed comfortable with the photo-op, often posing and smiling for the cameras as he handed his wife the giant scissors. Aazuria knew that she should feel jealous and upset, but she was just so glad to be close to him that the tears which gathered in her eyes were bittersweet, involuntary droplets of happiness. She was just so glad to hear his voice and see his smile and know that he had recovered from his illness. She was just happy to see the light in the eyes of her beloved sister, and to see that they loved each other and were happy. She lowered her head again, allowing the fur hood to drift down over her eyes as she blinked her tears away, cursing them for appearing at all.

  She knew that she needed to put her personal feelings and weakness aside and focus on the bigger picture. As she tried to do this, she noticed that Visola and Sionna were engaged in a heated argument. She frowned, seeing that the general was out-of-sorts and somewhat frantic. Her eyes darted to her daughter, and seeing that Varia was fine, she turned to look at her sister. Elandria was cutting the ribbon and smiling at the audience in her shy but sweet way.

  “Now. Go. Harpoon the whale.” This was an electronic voice in the crowd not too far away from Aazuria. It sounded like it
might have been a cell phone or a radio signal. Frowning, Aazuria lifted her hand to pull her hood up slightly and get a better view of her surroundings. She saw a few people in the crowd beginning to move forward, along with several of the security guards. Remembering the situation from the bar a few days earlier, she knew that the general consensus in Adlivun was that Elandria was the cause of their problems. She knew that the people were excited at the thought of assassinating the queen, but it seemed like this was more than just another fanatical rogue making an attempt on her life.

  This was organized.

  Aazuria looked to her sister’s face and saw that she could sense that something was wrong. She saw Elandria turn to her bodyguards fearfully, but Visola was not paying any attention. This concept seemed impossible for Aazuria to grasp; how could it be that the most alert, paranoid woman she knew was paying no attention to her sister’s safety? There was something wrong with Visola.

  Even Trevain was occupied in discussion with the museum’s curator, so when Aazuria saw that a large man was heading for the frail woman she had known for hundreds of years, she knew Elandria stood no chance of defending herself. Everyone around her seemed frozen in shock, and they were beginning to make exclamations of horror. They were innocent bystanders who would not spring into action in time.

  There was no more time for thinking, and Aazuria sprang into action, thrusting her body forward onto the stage. As the attacker reached into his jacket to withdraw a small harpoon, Aazuria viciously grabbed his arm in her fur-trimmed fist. He swiveled to look at her, and she gave him a small, sarcastic smile.

  “I don’t think so,” she whispered. In the next instant, she was twisting the spear out of his hand and wrestling it away from him. Slamming her elbow into the back of his neck, she forced the man down onto the ground. She felt the underarm of her new coat tearing slightly with the ferocity of motion. She immediately noticed that all the security guards in the room were advancing on her and Elandria; they were withdrawing spears and harpoons similar to the one she had just taken away from the first attacker. Positioning her body in front of her sister, she pulled her fur hood back so that she could more clearly see her surroundings. A gasp went up from the crowd at the sight of her face, despite her wig and contact lenses. She was too quickly engaged in combat with the traitorous security guards to fully process the reaction of the crowd.

  Varia watched as the hooded woman moved forward, lithe and swift. She seemed to be completely connected to her own skin, moving as instantaneously and fluidly as thought itself. The young girl’s heart soared when she knew it was her mother. She felt the strong urge to move forward and help her mother protect her aunt, but she was nervous about revealing her identity. She did not want to make a mistake. She turned to glance at Glais anxiously, and she could see the recognition and reassurance in his amber eyes. He reached out to take her hand, and he gave her a little nod to tell her that she should not interfere. Even though he was only four years older, she sometimes felt like he was ancient. His protective, restrictive gesture caused her rebellious nature to flare up, and she almost wanted to rip herself away to run to her mother; but it was the thought that Glais would follow her into battle that scared her into immobility.

  She did not want to unintentionally place her innocent friend in danger. She knew he would try to protect her, and she was uncertain of whether he was really any good at fighting, even though she had heard from others, including General Ramaris, that he was. In the few occasions they had been able to wrestle privately in the palace, Varia had easily won each time. She was not sure if he was holding back to make her feel better, but she did not want to risk his life unnecessarily. Yearning for her first real fight, but remembering her promise to protect Glais as his blood sister, she tugged the boy back, closer to where Visola was standing. Surely, if anything were to happen, Visola could protect…

  Varia’s eyes widened when she noticed that the general was leaning weakly on her sister. Visola was frowning, and trying to move forward to help Elandria, but Sionna gripped her sister tightly against her side. Seeing this gave Varia the chills, and she felt suddenly very alone. Trevain was rushing to her side in an instant, ushering Kolora and Kaito to safety near the Ramaris twins.

  “Visola!” Trevain shouted. “We need you!”

  “No, we don’t,” Aazuria said with a smile, moving to his side. Her arm darted forward to Trevain’s belt and she ripped the ceremonial sword hanging at his waist from its scabbard. She launched herself back into the fray of the fight, plunging the non-too-sharpened weapon into soft stomachs and necks. She greedily hacked anywhere there was exposed skin calling to her for attention. She seemed not to care about keeping the men alive any longer, and she fought viciously and efficiently, killing rather than simply maiming. “Traitors!” she roared. “How dare you conspire to harm the queen of Adlivun!”

  The crowd began to murmur in excitement. “It’s her!” people began to whisper. “The Sapphire!”

  Ignoring these zealous cries, Aazuria turned and saw that Elandria had fallen to her knees in fear. She noticed that there were still a few guards hanging back near the entrance to the museum.

  “Harpoon the whale!” one of the guards shouted angrily, flinging a small spear toward Elandria.

  Seething with pure rage, Aazuria somehow managed to dive forward and clamp her fist around the harpoon. She stared down at the primitive spear, contrasting sharply with the expensive mink fur around her wrist, before turning sharply to fling the harpoon directly back at the man who had lobbed it. The small javelin pierced directly into his left eye, causing Aazuria to smirk proudly. She tightened her grip around the ceremonial sword in her other hand.

  “Insurrection will not be tolerated!” she shouted in an echoing voice which reverberated off the city buildings. She was startled to see that the Adluvian aristocrats were falling to their knees before her, murmuring prayers of thanks and fealty. She was pleased to see that the annoying older men from earlier were also on their knees.

  “Sedna spank me,” Visola said in a breathless whisper, studying the projectile sticking out of the guard’s eye. The warrior released her sister and stumbled toward the strange woman on the podium. “Those are my moves. Hey! You’re stealing my thunder, lady.”

  Aazuria turned to look at her friend, glad that Visola seemed to have recovered from whatever had been ailing her. But seeing the redhead’s frown snapped her back to reality, and she reached behind her to pull her fur hood back over her head. She moved to leave, hoping to slip away from the stage quickly enough to avoid being apprehended, but Visola chased after her and grabbed her wrist. Aazuria tried to wrestle herself free, but she quickly found that Visola, even not at her best, was a much more challenging opponent than the men who had tried to attack Elandria. She frowned and tried to pull herself free without hurting her friend.

  “Look out!” Visola said, tugging Aazuria’s arm forcefully. A harpoon narrowly missed Aazuria’s shoulder and connected with the ground behind her. “Zuri,” Visola said with a hysterical laugh. “It’s really you, Zuri.” She reached down to grab a gun from its holster at her hip before throwing her arms around Aazuria and hugging her fiercely. As she squeezed her friend, she peered over her shoulder and shot the guard who had thrown the harpoon.

  Aazuria smiled, returning the hug. Only Visola could manage to give a loving embrace while simultaneously killing a man. “I have to go,” Aazuria whispered. She kissed her friend on the cheek, gripping the taller woman’s shoulder tightly before releasing her to move away. “I love you, Viso.”

  “Bwahaha,” Visola said, sputtering and laughing as she seized Aazuria’s fancy fur hood. She reached out and grabbed the false hair on top of her friend’s head and ripped the wig off forcefully. Tossing it to the ground, she stomped on it dramatically and victoriously. “You are going nowhere, Aazuria Vellamo! That’s right everyone, it’s Queen Aazuria! She is completely, utterly, delightfully alive!”

  “Oh, dear,” Aazuria sai
d, looking at her wig in dismay. She glanced nervously at her husband and sister. “Viso,” she said helplessly. “I didn’t want…”

  “You still haven’t learned to guard that shoulder of yours,” Visola said in a much softer voice than the one she had previously used to scream out her friend’s name. She hit Aazuria lightly in the aforementioned joint, the one she knew was horribly scarred beneath her elegant fur coat. “I knew it. I knew you were alive. Just seeing you makes me feel strong again. How’d you learn to fight like that?”

  Smiling, Aazuria reached up to arrange her silvery hair that had been flattened by the wig. Her natural locks were already beginning to tan slightly in the mild sunlight. “After hundreds of years of watching you, I couldn’t be that easy to kill. Just being in the same room with you for an extended period of time is enough to teach certain survival skills. Thank you.”

  “Sedna is a sick woman,” Visola said cryptically, swaying a bit on her feet. She reached out to hug Aazuria again, and found herself collapsing against the woman. “Bitch likes to toy with me—first she takes everything away, and then she gives me a little bit of everything back.”

  “Viso? Viso?” Aazuria said with worry, feeling the woman’s full weight fall against her. Struggling to hold the giant woman upright, she turned to Sionna who was already rushing to her sister’s side. “What’s wrong with her?”

  Sionna hesitated as she reached out to take the general from Aazuria’s arms with much difficulty. “Pre-eclampsia,” she said softly. “She will probably miscarry.”

  “Get her to safety,” Aazuria commanded in a low voice, and Sionna immediately nodded and moved to follow the order.

  Meanwhile, Trevain had been standing near the children protectively, but once the danger had been abated he quickly moved forward to check on Elandria. She was sobbing on the ground near the long strips of red ribbon she had sliced apart. She still held the giant scissors in her hands, and Trevain pried them away from her white knuckles tenderly. “Are you hurt?” he asked her softly. “Elandria? Are you okay?”