by J F Rogers
“I was betrothed to Valter, but in love with another.”
Sounded familiar. “What happened to the other guy?”
“H–he—” Her voice cracked. “He wasn’t worthy of my love.”
“Oh.” Didn’t sound like it ended well. I hoped something similar wouldn’t happen with Declan. If he was still…
No. I had to stop thinking like that. This was about Rowan. Did I dare ask what happened? “How did you become a fasgadair?”
“I realized my error and was on my way home when a storm hit. We sought refuge in a nearby village. The fasgadair attacked that night. Jacobus, the boy I ran away with, knew he had no chance of stopping me from returning home. But if I was a fasgadair…I’d never return. He begged them to turn him…and me. I’d have rather died. But a fasgadair turned us both against my will. I can’t…” She buried her face in her hands.
If Evan’s description of the bloodthirst was accurate for all new fasgadair, I didn’t want to imagine what atrocities she’d committed. Or how to help her overcome them. Right now, she had too much time on her hands to relive the past. That couldn’t be good.
She wiped her tears. “I escaped and made my way on my own in the woods, as a raccoon.”
So, as Wolf had, she’d chosen to remain in animal form to avoid the monster she’d become. But she was back, changed. And she seemed to believe in God. She’d be a much better leader than Kagan or Valter. Perhaps Arabella could convince these stiff-necked people to destroy their worthless idols. “Don’t you think your people would want to know you’re alive?” I touched her shoulder. “Don’t you think it would give them hope?”
She jerked away. “No, I ran away. I’m a disgrace. The throne no longer belongs to me.”
I placed my rejected hand in my lap. “Your father is ill. What if this is your last chance to see him…to make peace with him?”
“I can’t.” Misty eyes peered into mine. “Don’t you understand? I’m not worthy of my father or my people.”
“I get why you’ve been holed up in here. But do you have any idea what’s happening? God spoke through Sully. He warned us we need to destroy the idols and return to Him. I fear what will happen if we don’t, but Kagan refuses. He’s forcing us to leave, and we have no plan…no place to go.” I stared at her as if my eyes had the power to convince her. “We need you to claim your right and help us.”
“No. As long as my father’s alive and unwell, Regent Kagan will remain in control. My reappearance would make no difference.”
“But you could talk to him, convince him to change his mind.”
“Nothing would change. I’d only create chaos when we can little afford turmoil. Nothing will ever convince Regent Kagan to tear down the idols. And I’d be forced to marry Valter.”
“Would that be so bad? The guy is hot.” I chuckled. Despite the tenseness between us, I could imagine worse fates than being stuck with Valter.
Arabella’s eyes narrowed at me. “Hot? Is he ill too? Does he have a fever?”
I burst out laughing. She gave me the usual look—like I might infect her with whatever possessed me—and backed away slightly.
“No. I just mean he’s…” What word would I never use that she might understand? “Handsome.”
“Truly? He was such a scrawny boy. Perhaps he’s grown into himself. It has been a number of years. I suppose he’s older than me now since I haven’t aged.” She seemed to contemplate the idea, then shook her head. Blonde curls bounced around her shoulders. “It makes no difference. Valter isn’t worthy of the crown. I could never convince my father of that without evidence. But I’m sure Valter hasn’t changed enough to be worthy now.”
I had a hard time seeing anything in Valter unworthy of kingship. He seemed far better suited for the position than Kagan with his multiple gods and intolerance to our God. But what did I know of the burden of a crown? “I don’t know about ruling a country, but if he shouldn’t be king, wouldn’t it be best if you were there to watch over him? To keep him in check?” What was I suggesting? That she should marry for her country rather than love? That she sacrifice her happiness for others? Was that what Declan attempted to do? Was that better? “I still think you should reveal yourself.”
Her curls resumed their emphatic bounce. “Valter will have full control as king whether I’m by his side or not. My awareness of his poor decisions will only succeed in hastening my death. And there’s no way out of this alliance without Valter revealing himself as a traitor to Bandia or dying.” She grasped my sleeve. “Please don’t tell anyone, Fallon. I beg you.”
“Fine.” I let out a dramatic sigh and rolled my eyes. “I’ll keep calling you Rowan so I don’t slip up. Evan already knows my suspicions, but I’ll ask him to stay quiet. And I won’t tell anyone else.” For now.
Chapter Eighteen
◊◊◊
IN THE DINING HALL the following morning, my stomach growled for the eggs, ham, and potatoes we’d had the previous day. But the aroma wafting from the tureens the servants brought in smelled nothing like breakfast. It smelled like soup.
A servant scooped a pale, lumpy, semiliquid substance into our bowls. I gave it a sniff. “Soup for breakfast?”
“It’s porridge. Try it.” Cataleen ate a spoonful.
I took a nibble from the tip of the spoon, expecting the consistency to make me gag. But it wasn’t unpleasant. A little gingery. I ate the remaining spoonful. Not bad.
Abracham stood. “Thank you for joining me this morning and for your prayers. I ask, has anyone received clear direction from God?”
A diminutive bald man rose. “I have.”
“And what is the answer you’ve received?” Abracham prompted.
“We are to travel the Bàthadh Sea to the east and the land beyond.” He returned to his seat.
“We’ve discussed this,” said someone with a deep, guttural voice.
“Aye, no one has ever survived the trip,” rang out another.
The voices grew to white noise. Only a few words stood out. Abracham pounded the table with his fist until the shouts and murmurs died. “We’re aware of the arguments. There is no time nor reason to rehash them. It is time for action. There is one claim to have received a revelation from God. Can any confirm?”
A handful of men and women stood, Sully among them.
“He has given you all the same message?”
Ayes and nodding heads came from those standing.
Abracham lifted his hands and gaze toward the heavens. “Thank You, Lord, for revealing Your will to us. We shall travel to the land beyond the Bàthadh Sea. Go with us.” He returned his gaze to the crowd. “I shall meet with Regent Kagan to arrange travel.”
****
In the king’s massive throne room, I didn’t have to fight the crowd to see Kagan. An ornate throne dominated the dais while a glass dome above angled the sunlight to spotlight him.
Abracham had finally gotten through the line. He knelt on the steps to the throne between two guards holding spears.
“Silence!” Kagan pounded his scepter on the floor. He glared at the buzzing crowd before giving his attention to Abracham. “What is your request, Abracham?”
“With your permission, Sir Kagan, as we are no longer welcome in Bandia, we request a ship to sail to the east.”
The regent tugged on his immaculate beard. “As none who have traveled east have returned, I expect my ship will not be returned. What have you to trade?”
“As you are aware, Sir Kagan, we are refugees from our lands. We have few resources and are in need of what little we possess to see us through this journey.”
“You are asking me to give you a ship?” He stressed the word give and laughed. Valter stepped up behind him and whispered in his ear.
“Allow us a moment to deliberate.” Kagan followed Valter and a guard to a room behind the throne. The door closed behind them.
An incomprehensible hum filled the hall as c
onversations resumed then hushed when Kagan reappeared and reclaimed his throne. “I shall grant your request, Abracham. Consider it aid in a time of war. In addition, we will provide supplies. I will not expect you to repay the debt. Remember the favor Bandia bestowed upon your people.”
Abracham bowed. “We are grateful for your generosity, Sir Kagan.”
“A crew will ready your ship to set sail tomorrow morning.” Kagan waved Abracham off.
Why was Kagan being so generous? He had laughed at the idea of giving us a ship. And now he was offering us supplies too? What did Valter say to him? Arabella was wrong. She had to be. He must’ve changed.
“So, you’re leaving then?” Valter startled me. How long had he been at my side? I hadn’t even seen him leave the room with Kagan.
“Yeah. Thanks for whatever you said to Regent Kagan to change his mind.”
“Ah.” He waved it off. “Why have you decided to go east?”
“Sully received a revelation from God.”
“Did that revelation specifically include you?”
“I’m among those who won’t disobey God, so yes. Besides, I can’t abandon them.”
“Why would God want you to travel east? For what purpose?”
Good question. One I’d asked many times. I squelched rising doubts. “Sully speaks for God. I trust him. I want to do God’s will. Even if it doesn’t make sense.” In my limited experience, it usually didn’t.
“You’d rather die on a fruitless mission than join us in our quest to destroy the fasgadair? We have an army, weapons. For the first time in history, the pech have agreed to fight on our side. They have staggering numbers and weapons. And they’re strong. With us, you have a fighting chance.” He laid a hand on my shoulder and gazed into my eyes. “Think of the good you could do restoring fasgadair back to who they once were.” With his other hand, he motioned outside. “But out there… You have no idea what’s there. You have no plan. Why flee when you can take a stand?”
All good points. Going with him made far more sense. But what could I do? “Destroy your idols.”
“Hmph.” A scowl crossed Valter’s face, and his grip on my shoulder tightened. “You still have the night to think it over.” He released me, flashed a winning smile, then walked through the parting crowd like Moses walked through the sea.
What was that? I rubbed my shoulder. Had I met one of his other personalities? Or was it my imagination? It had to have been. Unless he had split-second personality changes.
Why didn’t Valter use his position to change Kagan’s mind? He clearly had influence.
****
I lay in bed. Wind drifted through the open window, ruffling the curtains. Shadow monsters shifted, creeping back and forth from their hiding places. Sleep refused to release me from my overwrought mind. Valter’s request to join him resounded over and over and over. How could I even consider it? I couldn’t leave my friends. But he had a plan.
We had a plan too. But it was weak. It wasn’t a plan at all. What kind of plan was it to sail to an unknown land from which no one had ever returned? For what purpose? What would we do when, and if, we arrived?
This was based on Sully’s words. Were they truly from God? Was he always right?
But others confirmed it before Sully spoke. They weren’t all mistaken. Was it possible they might think they received this revelation because of what Sully said at dinner with Kagan?
Why would God tell us to tear down the idols, then course correct and tell us to go east? God knew everything. He didn’t have a Plan B. He had to know we’d fail. He didn’t expect us to go against Kagan, did He? Or should I sneak out and smash them myself?
I shuddered, thinking what would happen when I got caught. What would Kagan do to me?
Would Valter take my side? Something in the way he grabbed my shoulder… His eyes. His voice. And his expression when I told him to destroy the idols. Was he following Kagan’s orders, or did he also believe in the false gods? He must. He grew up here.
These thoughts and images tormented me. Despite my desperation, sleep lingered just beyond my fingertips.
Bright light blinded me. I wiped the tears away and held my hand up, shielding my eyes from the beam. My surroundings came into focus. The beach. The figure…Declan.
I moved forward. As always, he remained the same distance away.
Why was I having these dreams again? Why was I aware I was dreaming? Why was Declan here, in Cataleen’s place?
The popping sound rang out on my right. The circle of swirling lights emerged. Who was trying to take over my mind? Who had the ability to try?
I had to know.
The swirling lights combined, forming a solid circle. I stepped toward it.
“No!” Declan called to me. “Stay away from him.”
The Declan on the beach was like my mother had been. Unreal. Part of the dream. But the person on the other side of the swirling lights was real. I had to find out who…
I took another step.
“No!”
As I turned back to the voice, the fasgadair version of Declan pushed me away from the lights.
I bolted upright in bed, chest heaving. Declan…. He pushed me? But how? I rubbed my arm. I still felt the pressure of his touch.
“What was that?” Rowan lit the lamp, and light flooded the room. She stood and closed the window.
“What was what?”
“Something flew in here.” Hugging herself, she stroked her arms.
“What?” Is that what I felt? No. I felt hands. Cold hands. I searched the room.
“It’s gone,” Rowan said.
Someone rapped on the door. Rowan bolted to the bathroom.
When I cracked the door, a guard grabbed me. “Come with me. We’re under attack.”
Chapter Nineteen
◊◊◊
I TUGGED MY ARM to pull away, but he held fast. “Please, I need to grab a few things.” I wasn’t leaving without Rowan.
The guard hesitated.
“I’ll come with you. But let me dress and gather a few things.”
The guard glanced up and down the hall, then released my arm. “Be quick.”
He didn’t seem to have any intention of leaving my room, so I carried my things into the bathroom.
“Quick,” I whispered to Rowan. “Get into the sack.”
“Something’s not right. I was just at the window. The signal fires weren’t lit. If we’re under attack, why aren’t the signal fires lit?”
“I don’t know, but if you want to come with me, you better change now.”
She stood there. Jawline set. Hands on her hips.
“Or you can chance them finding you.”
“Very well.” Rowan disappeared under her nightgown. The neckline caught around her middle as she tried escaping in her raccoon form. I snagged the gown. She wriggled free and crawled into the sack.
“Are you talking to someone?” The thick wood softened the guard’s voice.
“Just thinking out loud.” I dressed, threw my things into my backpack, and heaved it over my shoulders.
A sharp rap rattled the door. “I said be quick.”
“Coming.” Cradling Rowan, I opened the door. The guard fell inside, so I stepped out of his path.
“Come with me.” He hustled me along.
I eyed the two mussed beds. They must employ this guard for muscle, not powers of observation. Either he was oblivious to the fact that I shared my room with someone or he didn’t care.
My eyes darted toward the others’ rooms. “Where are my friends?”
“There’s no time. We must hurry.” He pulled my arm.
“No.” I yanked my arm away, nearly dropping Rowan, and planted my feet. “Where are my friends? I won’t go without them.”
A couple more guards appeared in the hall. As they approached, I backed away, then turned and ran. They caught up to me and grasped me bodily, lifting me. I kicke
d as Rowan plunked to the ground. The first guard picked her up and flung her over his shoulder while the other two carried me down the hall. “No! Let go of me. Cahal! Wolf!”
The two guards swept me away. The first guard trailed, carrying Rowan. Thank God, he was unobservant.
God, please don’t let him discover the princess. Please let her stay with me.
Maybe her discovery was exactly what I needed to get out of this mess. Was I praying for the wrong thing?
As we traversed many halls and descended many stairways, a sense of déjà vu overcame me. This had happened before by Aodan’s guards in Ceas Croi. But these weren’t fasgadair. What did they want with me?
We arrived at the throne room. Clones of the guards opened the doors in time for us to pass through. Kagan occupied the throne, despite the hour. He leaned to one side, his scepter angled in the opposite direction. He straightened as I approached.
After the commotion earlier in the day, the room felt oddly empty. Why was I getting private time with Kagan?
Wrong question. Why was I being forced to have private time with Kagan?
The guard who pulled me from my room pushed me forward to the steps before the throne. I caught myself, but my backpack threw me off balance. I steadied, keeping a distrustful eye on Kagan.
“Welcome, Fallon.” He aimed his scepter at me. It hovered there. Then he took a deep, impatient breath and waved the scepter. “You are supposed to touch it.”
I creeped up the steps and poked the scepter with my finger.
Kagan rolled his eyes and drew it back to his side. “I’ve requested your presence to implore you to stay.”
“You’re asking me?” I scoffed. “Your guards kidnaped me. They told me we were under attack.”
Kagan stared at his guards. They lowered their heads. Crinkles appeared in the corner of Kagan’s eyes. He found this amusing? “My most sincere apologies for my guards. They can be a bit”—he tugged on his beard—“enthusiastic?”
Sincere? Yeah, right. “Call it whatever you want.”
“I didn’t call you here to debate my guard’s methods. They were effective. That is all I ask. But what of my offer?”
