by V. C. Willis
Swallowing, I crossed my arms. “A move Lord Knight Paul taught me. I was pinned, but the henchman was scrambling to reset, and he pulled the rapier. I wasn’t going to be able to avoid the strike, but I could roll down the blade. Took forever to stitch the slices in my coat, but I aimed for his shoulder, and he took the hit. What he didn’t see was it was intended to distract from the other attack to disarm him. Sadly, the henchman had a shit blade, or he’d be missing more fingers or even his hand.”
“He can’t be serious? A fledgling assassin able to land a strike on Fallen Arbor’s main operative?” Ale marveled, rising to his feet in disbelief.
“We might have a chance,” muttered Red Wine. “We actually might be able to pull this off then. Thank you, Paul, you are a fucking wonderful human being. You really weren’t joking about it all. Teach me the bloodeater way anyway. He’d nag me for hours asking that. It did pay off in a way I never imagined…” She spun to Ale, shaking his shoulders. “We’re going to rattle the cage. Tell Madame Plasket and King Traibon I’m sorry, but we can’t miss this chance. We might find Ashton if this works out… or at least, what happened to him.”
“Okay…” Ale looked between us, confused. “And by rattle the cage, you plan on doing what exactly?”
“Spread the word that Ashton is back,” she announced, pointing to me. “He’ll play the part. He looks like him, and after hearing this and his training last night, we have a chance at turning the tide against Fallen Arbor. We need Landon to question that it wasn’t little brother last night, but Ashton himself back for revenge. Really fuck with their heads on this. My informant made it clear they are looking for Ashton just the same as we are, even now. Frank said Fallen Arbor will be forever looking over their shoulders thanks to what they did, but… we can do this.”
“R-right,” Ale sounded uneasy, his voice shaking. “Do you really think they are going to be convinced he’s Ashton?”
“That’s our problem,” I declared. “Red Wine is responsible for helping me play the part. I can learn to fight and act like him. We are fortunate my father’s genes are strong and his sons could pass for twins.”
Ale nodded. “So spread the word, which is?”
“Ashton aims to expel Fallen Arbor from Grandmere,” announced Red Wine.
“That’s a tall order.” Ale rubbed the back of his neck, pondering on it. “How about we first start with Ashton is back and add the rest like a slow drip to unnerve them and keep them guessing? I don’t think declaring full out war this fast is going to give you the time to train our beloved Blood Prince to take on big bro’s role.”
“He’s got a point.” With a deep breath, I added, “And this is a complete flip from moments ago when you gave me shit for…”
“Hush,” she spat. “Fine, let’s start with the first part. Let’s see how Landon reacts. In the meantime, we can’t cross the bridge. Any word if it’s safe to launch a boat from the Sullen Lake mill?”
“It’s still too iced up,” answered Ale as he took a pocket watch out and flicked it in the sunlight a few times. “But the brackish Willow Waters seems to be clear. I advise taking the long route all the way through the Farmlis Woods and go south to Leifseid to take the road leading to the west entrance into Captiva City. As we know, no Fallen Arbor have been reported there.”
“W-wait.” I unfolded my arms in alarm, fussing, “But doesn’t that take us through the thick of the current battlelines?”
“It does,” confessed Ale as a raven landed on his arm. “But it’ll work as cover if you are going through with this… unorthodox plan.” He stared at Red Wine, and repeated, “Ashton is back. And are we doing this as a silent operation, Master?”
She slid her mask off as if this signified how confident the order had become. “We are spreading the word, but you and I will be the only ones aware that it’s really Dante. Agreed?”
He pounded his chest and took his mask off. “On my personal identity, I swear by this.” He turned and bowed deep with the raven fussing at shifting his balance. “I am honored to know our princes have been such brave individuals. May you fight well and live long, Prince Dante.”
The young man rose, and I realized who he was. “The carpenter’s son.”
He smiled, a sense of pride filling him. “If you were wondering why I wasn’t always around to assist my father, you have the answer before you.”
Laughing, I jested, “Is half of Glensdale working for the guild these days?”
He winked. “Perhaps we are, Prince. For the sake of protecting Grandmere more so than providing for the Civil War. Most of us would rather not end up as Falco’s soldier, but I suppose you freed us all from that fate.”
Nodding, I couldn’t argue with the thought. “It is why I took the Fanged Lady so long ago.”
We waited as Ale replaced his mask, and Red Wine scrawled words on a tiny stripe of paper. It was rolled tightly, tied with care, and off the raven went. Ale disappeared, and the march back to the others was silent. There wasn’t much to say. We had put the plan in motion and now on a grand scale. The question was, as the raven flies, will Landon really believe he faced my brother in the stables?
John shifted, gnawing on a chunk of bread. “Where did you two disappear to?”
“Training,” answered Red Wine, snatching his bread from his hands as she walked past, eating the rest.
“Hopefully not like last night,” he rebutted.
“We can’t use the bridge,” I announced. “Fallen Arbor is waiting there for us. So, we’re going to head for Leifseid.”
“Shit, that’s going to add a week to getting there.” Valiente took a swig of his water. “But I’d rather not face them. I have to get her back at all costs, and a few days travel is a safer bet.”
“Agreed.”
I thought they’d fight me more, but something tells me Valiente might have crossed swords with them at some point.
Chapter 10
As the Raven Flies
By the time we reached the shores of Willow Waters, the sun had set, casting the land in a golden tone before fading to a dark purple. Resorting to traveling by lantern light was dangerous, but we weren’t safe on the road now that we drew closer to where Fallen Arbor might be looking for us. We started off so carefree, but the reality of the dangers has struck a chord with all of us. Once at the shoreline, we followed it north for a while until we came upon a boat. Red Wine checked inside, flipping the burlap tarp up and seeming happy with her findings. I could only assume this was intentional, even prepped for us by Ale and Mead before they even reached out to us. Being part of the Guild has been quite the blessing on this journey already. How many more times will we need to rely on them to get where we’re going in order to stay safe?
“We’ll camp here for the night.” Red Wine spun and began unpacking saddlebags and unbuckling the saddle from Biscuit. “The horses will have to swim across, so we’ll have to get a campfire going on the other side and let them dry off and warm back up. It’ll be a two-day delay doing it this way, but it should break our trail for anyone tracking us and give me time to train Dante.”
“Sounds like you’ve had to use this tactic a few times.” Valiente wasted no time echoing her tasks, goading everyone to do the same. “Should we do the horses in phases?”
“A few times more than I care to confess, but yes. Let’s do them one at a time during the day tomorrow in hopes of keeping the smoke and flames small.” She started piling her things off to the side, and we dropped our own alongside them.
No one complained as we carried out the chore in silence. The only stare that stung was the one coming from John. He knew what training implied, but we had come to this arrangement together, knowing the cost. Valiente set out to prep the camp, and John rushed to help. He’s trying to keep his mind off our burden, but I can’t let our emotions get in the way of our goal, can I? I unsaddled Basque, tossi
ng the heavy saddlebags at John’s feet, and we paused. Our eyes locked, and something strange washed over me, a connection as if my heart fluttered with his own for a moment. I turned away, confused. It wasn’t abnormal, but there was a new, feral need building that I couldn’t put to words or even emotions to identify what I had felt in that fleeting glance.
Dammit it all. Something’s shaking loose, deepening my love to something… terrifying. How far will I break myself, and can I really hide it from him? Or could it be he sees it, sees through me like he’s been able to do from the very beginning?
Basque started to follow us in the woods, and I turned, commanding, “No, you stay here in camp with John.”
The Nivernais seemed insulted, ears flicking back as he snorted.
“Go on.” I pointed, and he turned away.
“Ornery, are we?” Red Wine scoffed. “Like his owners.”
I huffed, unwilling to add anything else to the conversation. We found a clearing, and I repeated the motion, kicking off boots and pulling off my shirt and coat. Without instruction, I got into the pose and waited. She circled and I stared down at her from where I squatted, waiting for the barrage of attacks. Rubbing her wrist, she seemed to be scrutinizing my pose deeper, more thoughtful now. A tap here and there, she adjusted it ever so gradually. My muscles didn’t burn nor ache like they had done the night before, and she registered the confusion building on my face.
“He once told me that after you imprint this first pose, it makes the rest easier,” she offered.
“It’s a little unnerving to be honest. I haven’t felt… myself physically all day,” I confessed.
“Can I ask you something?” Her voice softened as she rubbed her wrist again. “Rumor has it you only drink from the priest.”
“What of it?” I took a deep breath, the stance bringing a calm despite knowing how it all unfolded last time. The downside is the Guild is quick to notice every little detail.
“Well, did you change because of the Fanged Lady or was it your willingness to devote everything to being John’s guardian and protector?” She unbuckled her gauntlet, her wrist still discolored. It must be aching in the icy temperatures. “Because I’m about to reveal a secret that only three people know including me, your brother, and of course, Frank.”
I furrowed my brow, heart racing as my anxiety rose. “I don’t understand. You can only become a bloodeater by using the Fanged Lady,” I corrected. “And if you can survive a week of no blood, you can break the spell and become immortal like… wait, Frank the Immortal?”
Red Wine reached down and found a clump of snow and pressed it under her. “Yeah, that Frank. They are a Fanged Lady bloodeater, but Ashton wasn’t, and I suspect neither are you. Now, that doesn’t mean getting stabbed by her or taking in the curse doesn’t have any effect. Ashton disappeared many times after being bitten, and we thought him dead after Viceroy Vendecci thought it cute to stab him in the chest with her. Even Ashton wasn’t immune to the Madness, but he could overcome it with time.”
My muscles tightened, itching to move, and I ignored it. “Are you saying I became a bloodeater on my own accord?” I didn’t want this, but I can’t reveal that. John knows that, and it was John who made me. “But if that were possible, more of us would exist.”
“It’s just a theory.” She leaned on a tree, icing her wrist. “Ashton once said something. It was about where we came from, the old legends. You know them? Or were those not part of your studies either?”
“I know them,” I snorted, the forest growing silent as the temperature dropped further. “The ones that say our ancestors travelled with Grandmere or the Great Grandmother of our people were the ones I favored as a child. After crossing the Hidden Swells, they came to this land and found humans struggling to tame the land. It was here we earned our title of daemonis and daemons, those who serve as guardians. But that didn’t last long. We ended up in this Civil War, but even that comes with two versions: how it was written and how Fallen Arbor orchestrated it.”
“You’re a quick study.” She lit the lantern and squatted close to the light, inspecting her wrist again.
“Why haven’t you healed?” I kept fighting the urge to drop my chin. “Do you need to feed?”
Shaking her head no in reply, she pulled out a familiar salve, rubbing it on her injury. “I don’t heal as fast as others, but that’s because I don’t feed. Too scared to try to be honest.” She half-laughed. “But you—you have the priest. And like Ashton, you will get stronger after each feeding because you’ve become his sworn guardian. All we can assume is it’s an ancient blood pact. I think Ashton went on pure speculation and took a chance of dying for all the right reasons, and that’s how he became practically a war god incarnate.”
“You leave me with more questions than answers every time we speak about him.” Mulling over her words, I circled back. “What do you mean you’ve never fed?”
“I’ve never fed,” she confessed once more.
“But you’re a bloodeater,” I offered.
“Of the purest kind, so they say.” She shrugged, closing the salve. “I was born by the normal means and between two bloodeaters, but from childhood, I showed the same abilities as my parents. Normally two bloodeaters just have a normal daemonis child who later in life becomes one through the Fanged Lady. Needless to say, the tipping point for the Traibons and Vendeccis was when I would be sold to a competing lord for breeding stock. I was something stronger, which meant to serve as a trump card in the gladiator games.”
“So, let me get this timeline straight.” I cleared my throat and started again. “You’re older or younger than my sister Lillian?”
“Older.” A hiss escaped her as she buckled the gauntlet back over her wrist. “And no idea if there were any others like me. I was just born when the Civil War started. Granted, on the Old Continent, there’s a race stronger than us. Not sure why Fallen Arbor is so invested in dissecting us to satisfy power they already have.”
“No one talks about the Old Continent or even comes back from there alive. Even the ship traders have to meet merchants on islands because the laws are so strict and secretive.” I watched as she walked over and placed the lamp at my feet. “Are you saying you know what’s happened on the Old Continent?”
“You can say I was there for a short time—against my will. You shouldn’t believe everything about how things are. There’s a lot more trading and illegal activities unfolding on the seas than what is revealed to commonfolk.” Spinning around, she marched back to the tree, and she leaned on it once more. “It seems Fallen Arbor is the tyrant and single ruling body over there besides the Ogre Clan that still stands in their way. Granted, Warlord Sebastian helped Ashton smuggle me out, but Fallen Arbor used civil war and implemented the rigged gladiator system as ways to manipulate the others until they had full control. It was after that when we made it back to Grandmere and discovered The Court had been driven back. That’s when Ashton went for a head hunt for Fallen Arbor. I believe that’s the battle where your sister went missing, no?”
“Wait, so Fallen Arbor does have plans to—”
A whistling hit my ears, and I dropped the claymore to shield myself. An arrow shattered against the flat of the blade, and Red Wine clapped. Another two—no, three were coming. I spun, clipping two and dodging the other as I dropped to a knee. The third came from a completely different position. There’s more than one attacker, but why is she clapping? Annoyed, I scanned the woods, looking for movement or light. Another arrow caught my focus, and I blocked. Squatting, I killed the fire in the lantern at my feet. That had to be a signal to start. An arrow hit my shoulder but didn’t travel through all the way. Cursing, I stood and dropped to the starting position again, giving her a bewildered expression. This stance makes it flexible, but some forewarning would have been helpful!
“I’m sorry. I told some friends to help tonight since my wri
st is still in poor shape. Said Ashton was feeling rusty on his reflexes.” She shrugged, chuckling. “And I might have told the gang they get a gold coin for every arrow that hits.”
Another arrow whizzed past as I leaned out of the way. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
A flurry of arrows erupted from multiple directions. I swung, one clipping my shoulder; another lodged through my shin. I reset the stance. There’s not enough time to pull them all out. Adrenaline kicked in, and I roared with frustration. I could hear them, smell them from where I stood in the small clearing. From so far away, I could hear their breathing and hearts beating. My body itched in a way I’d imagine a wolf would wanting to give chase to unaware deer. Without warning, I surprised myself as I launched forward to go on the offense.
Ale. We met, I know his scent and he’s… I shifted my direction, confident that I ran in line with trees in a way he couldn’t see me. Taking a hard left, I slid in the mud around the trunk of a large pine. An arrow skimmed my cheek and ripped a notch into my ear. I had managed to grab his bow in the moment, sending it flying before he could register what attacked him. With a squeeze of my fist, the bow snapped into two pieces.
“D-Dante, don’t…” Ale shrieked. “Don’t kill me!”
“Why would I kill you?” I jerked the quiver from him and tossed it into the trees. “No more of these. They hurt.”
“R-right,” he agreed, the smell of fear wafting from him. “I thought a damn bear or cougar had pounced me.” He sunk to the ground, rubbing his chest. “You were in the clearing and then… gone. I thought maybe I could hear you and guess but…you moved so damn fast for a man built like an ox.”
The throng of a released bow vibrated in my ears. I caught an arrow midair. Mead? She’s been with Ale. That makes this easier… I ran back through the clearing and paused, getting my bearings once more. If this was the initial aim… Red Wine took a sip from her canteen as if unaware of the battles unfolding in the forest around her. The wind shifted, and I blocked two more arrows with my claymore. Sweat, footsteps, fear. Between trees, I saw movement, and I launched toward it. I could tell from the broken sticks I was closing in fast. Tree sap to my right. I swung. Shit, the tree…
