Rise of the Sparrows (Relics of Ar'Zac #1)

by Sarina Langer

  The market was mayhem, but somehow she managed to follow Cale as he made his way through the chaos. People farther away from the market had started asking what had caused the uproar, and many headed back the way she had come to see the mess for themselves.

  Dashing through the forest strengthened by adrenaline, she reached the house only brief moments after Cale. Her fingers had clasped the hilt of her sword the entire time, her knuckles had turned a ghostly white.

  “Get inside” Cale commanded, and Rachael knew better than to argue. He followed soon after, closing the door behind them.

  Ailis had not returned.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  When Rachael dared to leave the safety of her room again, Cale was sitting downstairs at the table with his head resting in his hands. Ever since they had returned from the market she had felt invisible eyes on her, waiting to strike the moment she let her guard down.

  She had expected Cale to pace, to think of something, or for Ailis to have returned but neither was the case. Seeing him like this was unsettling.

  She sat down opposite Cale, too lost for words to speak. She had seen people die many times in Blackrock. Orphans had died of sickness all the time; sometimes hunters had accidents with bears or a pack of wolves. On rare occasions a family starved or was mugged by bandits on the way to the next town. Nothing had ever been like this.

  She had witnessed a couple of suicides before, too, but she had never truly cared about it. It was a harsh world they lived in. If people decided to move on to the next one she wouldn't judge them. The people she had seen kill themselves had done so in secret. They had snuck out at night from the overbearing eyes of their parents or abusive lovers and husbands, and had stabbed their hearts or thrown themselves of the wall. It was not easy to get up there—in fact, their small town guard did everything they could to make it impossible for people to get up the wall—but if you were desperate enough you could always find a way. And they did.

  This suicide had not been secret. The woman had made a public showing out of her last moments, making sure everyone knew she was tainted. Rachael felt her insides twist at the memory. 'Tainted' could only mean one thing—the woman had had the gift as had her baby, and—burdened by the views of her friends and neighbours—she hadn't been able to live with the guilt. Rachael could think of no other explanation.

  “Cale...” She desperately wanted to say something to make the haunted look in his eyes go away, but she didn't know what. He must have seen people die many times. She had expected him to be used to it by now, but maybe this was something people couldn't get used to, no matter how often they witnessed it.

  “Her name was Anna. She was a Sparrow.” His voice was loud in the silence, but the words shook as he spoke.

  Her insides grew cold. A Sparrow. Had she met her? Her stomach twisted harder than before. Had she talked to the woman? Had she been one of those who had offered words of reassurance to her, the night she had visited their hideout? The woman hadn't looked familiar but there had been so many, and the room had been dark. It was a possibility.

  “Six months ago she left to look after herself and give birth to her second child. The baby you saw wasn't two months old.” He swallowed. “She was one of the best, Rachael. So brave, so ruthless, but so kind to the rest of us. I don't know why she would do this. She loved her gift, hoped that her baby would inherit it. Her daughter has no spark of it, so she hoped...” With a desperate glint in his eyes he looked up at Rachael. “I never knew how she really felt. Maybe if I'd known how much she hated herself I could have helped her.”

  “You couldn't have known.” Her throat tight, she only knew that she had to say something, anything. “You said it yourself—she's been at home looking after herself and her family for six months. A lot can change in that time.”

  Slowly, Cale nodded. “I guess so. And there's nothing I can do about it now. Tomorrow I'll visit her husband and daughter. Maybe they know what caused this change.”

  Rachael sat with him in silence. Both of them jumped when the door flew open and Ailis fell into the room.

  “Ailis!” Cale jumped up and rushed to her.

  “Cale!” She looked every bit as haunted as her brother. Her eyes were wide with fear and a nasty looking gash had marked her cheek. Blood had stained her neck and clothes, but she seemed uninjured otherwise. “I am so relieved you both made it back safe!”

  “What happened?” Carefully he cupped the unwounded half of her face in his hand, inspecting the cut.

  “The market place, it fell into mayhem after—oh Maker, Cale. Did you get a good look at her? Did you see who it was?” Tears mixed with the blood and Ailis flinched as the salt stung the wound.

  “I did. Take a seat, let me take a look at this.”

  Ailis let Cale walk her over to a chair and slumped into it. “Oh, Cale. Her baby, too.” Rachael could tell that it cost Ailis a lot not to burst into tears. Judging by the red colour of her eyes she had cried plenty all ready on the way to the house. Both of them had just witnessed the death of a friend. Rachael had felt bad enough when Cephy had left but at least the girl was alive. She refused to believe otherwise.

  “I know. Have you spoken to her recently?” Ailis flinched and squeezed her eyes shut as Cale disinfected the wound.

  “No. I visited her once after the boy was born. She was so happy that she could sense magic in him, Cale. Her husband and daughter were ecstatic, too. I don't understand why she would do this.”

  Gritting his teeth, Cale swore under his breath. “I bet this is King Aeric's doing! They knew she was involved with us!”

  “But she has moved several times since they saw her face. Most of us didn't even know where she lived.”

  “They tracked her down! I bet they found her and forced her to jump!”

  “But publicly? King Aeric would never—”

  “We're at war, Ailis. What he did today with this public execution was declare war.”

  Rachael felt sick. She'd only just bought the sword. She hadn't even started training with it yet. If King Aeric was no longer holding back and had officially made the first move, then... What hope did she have?

  His words made Ailis shudder more than the pain did. “I know very well that we are at war, Cale! King Aeric has proved himself to be a ruthless, resourceful man but this is beneath him! He has never agreed to public executions in the past.”

  “And yet Sparrows were hanged in the square before.”

  “None of it was his doing. Do you remember the speech he gave afterwards? Saying that his trusted commander had acted without his approval? King Aeric may despise people with the gift, but he would never agree to something like this.”

  Cale scowled. “No, that's what his prison is for. Rather than gut people in the streets he'd rather do it hidden away, where his loyal subjects never hear the screams or final words.”

  Defeated, Ailis turned away. “That's not what—”

  “It doesn't matter what you meant. We're at war now. Officially. It'll only be a matter of time before the Sparrows rise or fall.” When he turned his attention away from Ailis and his icy stare met Rachael, she shrank in her seat. “Are you ready for that?”

  All she could do was stare. Was she ready for it? Hardly. Did it matter whether she was ready for war? It seemed either way, whether she was prepared or not, the end had come.

  Exhausted, Cephy lost her footing and fell on to the rough hardwood floor. Her hands ached worse than they ever had. They were bleeding and worked raw from all her practice, but still it wasn't enough. Aeron would never be satisfied, no matter how much she bled. No matter how much she suffered, Aeron demanded more from her.

  “Get up.” Even now, after nearly two months of training, Aeron's voice was still silky smooth like molten gold. Only once had she lost her temper. The memory still brought Cephy nightmares, and she expected it always would. Cephy hadn't been able to do as Aeron had asked. The spell had proved too difficult for her, too much for her charr
ed hands, so Aeron had had to teach her a lesson. She had taken Cephy out into the next town and had lured a small child away from his parents. There, in a clearing away from the town, Aeron had shown Cephy how to use the spell properly. The image of the terror on the poor boy's face haunted her sleepless nights still, his screams still made her ears ring.

  Since then, Aeron had kept relatively calm. The Mist Woman only wanted Cephy to succeed so she could aid Rachael and help end the war, but she was stretched to her limit. She didn't want to learn most of the spells Aeron taught her, but there was no other way. She feared what Aeron would do if she refused again.

  “Cephy. Get up.” The threat hidden below her voice was obvious to Cephy. In the past month training under Aeron she had learned to listen for it.

  Like the obedient lap dog she had become, Cephy did as Aeron had asked.

  “Do it again.”

  Cephy focused on that place within herself where her magic slumbered, thought of what she needed to do, pulled her gift forth and released it. The hay bale in front of her caught fire. Cephy braced herself for Aeron's anger. All she seemed to be able to do recently was set fire to things. It's what she had always been good at, but when Aeron asked for an explosion a small fire just wouldn't do.

  To her surprise, no angry outbursts came. No scolding. Instead, Aeron merely sighed.

  “Perhaps you should take a break for now, my Fox.”

  Wary that this was a trick, Cephy shook her head. “No, I'm fine! I'll try it again—it'll work this time, you'll see!”

  Disappointed, Aeron shook her head. Cephy almost feared the disappointment more than the anger. Anger allowed Aeron to get it all out in one terrifying burst. When she was disappointed she had time to think up a fitting punishment. Her back still hurt from the fiery lashes she had received last time she had disappointed her mistress.

  “Oh, my little Fox... I only want what is best for you.” Cephy nodded. Sometimes she wished that Aeron's best would come with less pain. “You came to me, remember? You asked for my help, and I was kind enough to give you my full attention.”

  Eager to please her Cephy nodded. “Thank you, Aeron. I remember.”

  “Then believe me that this is not easy for me. You are my student, and as you have been honest with me I wish to be honest with you. The truth will hurt you, but you must know.”

  Cephy braced herself. She didn't like the look on Aeron's face one bit.

  “What is it?”

  “Come here, my Fox.” Cephy did as she was asked. “Here, take a look at this.”

  It looked like a bowl filled to the brim with water. When Cephy came closer Aeron emptied a liquid as dark as the night into it. The sudden movement sent ripples across the surface, but none of the strange liquid spilled over.

  “It is a mirror, of sorts. It has allowed me to watch your friends in the White City.” Cephy felt her heart race. She could watch Rachael with this? Make sure she was okay? Anxious, she came closer, excited to see a friendly face again.

  “Why isn't it showing me anything?” As much as she stared, the liquid remained clear.

  “Focus on who you want to see. It will show you where they are right now, and what they are doing. Some people can even hear them talk!”

  As always Cephy did as Aeron asked. She desperately wanted to know that Rachael was all right and well. Aeron had mentioned that war had officially been declared two weeks ago, following the suicide of a young mother with her infant. Neither side had made the first move yet, but Cephy knew that Rachael was in danger. It was the reason she had driven herself so hard under Aeron, the reason her hands were blistered and bloody. She was running out of time, and she needed to be ready.

  The black liquid began to swirl into shapes and colours. Cephy dared not blink in case she missed anything, and ignored the sting when her eyes stayed open.

  Slowly, Rachael appeared. Cephy couldn't help smiling when she saw that her friend was uninjured. Rachael was swinging a sword at a hay bale similar to how she was training with her gift. Cale was with her, motivating her, showing her how to hold the blade correctly. Even through the mist Cephy could tell that it was a beautiful blade, adorned with intricate designs.

  She focused more clearly on Rachael and Cale, wanting to get a better view of what they were doing.

  “... possibility.” She was surprised when she heard Cale speak. After what Aeron had said she hadn't expected to be able to, but since she could she thought she might as well listen.

  Cale had that determined look in his eyes she remembered so well. “If you end up fighting each other you won't have a choice. If you don't kill her, she will kill you.”

  Cephy felt her heart grow cold. She hadn't heard her name, but she knew this was about her. Aeron had told her before that Rachael would likely betray her, that Cale would convince Rachael and the other Sparrows to kill her if they got a chance. She hadn't believed it Now she witnessed her old friends discussing this very same thing.

  Rachael didn't look happy, but that didn't change what they were planning to do. Rachael and Cale were plotting to kill her. What else would she need to know?

  Maybe Rachael hadn't agreed to it yet. Maybe she wouldn't trust Cale, and realise that he was trying to set her up.

  Maybe Rachael wouldn't betray her, after all.

  “Promise me you'll kill her if you have to.” Cale's voice had once been so warm and understanding. Now the sound of it made her feel sick and her stomach churn.

  She didn't want to look at him. The very sight of him made her angry, but knowing that he was trying to set Rachael against her was too much to bear.

  Her eyes burning, she focused on Rachael.

  “I promise.”

  Her heart ached worse than her hands. She had trusted Rachael, loved her like a big sister, and yet Rachael was training to kill her.

  Cephy felt ready to explode. Inside, her source of magic was boiling, begging for release. She pulled at it one more time and threw it towards the hay bale.

  A deafening explosion filled the forest. Hungry flames lit up the immediate area, devouring everything in their way. Aeron acted immediately, extinguishing the fire and renewing the hay with a wave of her hand.

  “Now you know. You still love Rachael, my Fox, but Rachael would kill you in an instant if given the chance.”

  Her heart aching Cephy shook her head. “I don't. If Rachael...” She couldn't bring herself to finish. Rachael was prepared to kill her, so Cephy needed to be prepared to do the same thing.

  “I'm sorry, my Fox. I wanted to spare you the burden of knowledge, but you deserved to know the truth. Never forget how hearing her promise made you feel. Use it with your magic and the Sparrow won't get a chance to lift that sword at you.”

  With new determination Cephy smiled. Aeron was right. First her own family had discarded her like trash, then her neighbours and friends had alerted the White Guard, and now even Rachael wanted her dead—all because she had magic.

  This war had to end, but it wouldn't end well for those who had hurt her.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Grateful that no one could see him weep, King Aeric rested his head in one hand as he sank down on to his bed. He had sworn an oath to protect his people when he had accepted the crown. That crown now rested uncomfortably on his head, as did the oath. They were a burden intent on ruining him, nothing more.

  A month had passed since Aeron had unleashed atrocities on to his people. Fifty people had died since, most of which had killed themselves publicly for everyone to see. His people were frightened, and they demanded answers he didn't dare give. His city was in chaos, and he had no way of helping them.

  Unless damned Cale Spurling, leader of those blasted Sparrows, came forward already and gave himself up. He did not dare hope. Cale's indifference, his lack of action, had proven to him how little the Sparrow cared for his people. Many more would die if he continued to wait for Cale to turn himself in. Cale didn't care, but he was still their King and he cared a
great deal. His people had suffered enough, and he wanted things to return to normal more than anything.

  His stomach churned just thinking about some of the deaths he himself had witnessed. A young girl with her infant son, throwing herself off a rooftop in the busy market square. A child no older than five, who had thrown himself in front of horses in full gallop. An elderly woman—revered for her aid and healing skills—gutted herself during her daughter's wedding ceremony by the altar.

  All fifty people had possessed the curse of magic which had befallen his people. He had wanted the war to stop, and for magic to be harmless to his worried subjects, but he had never wanted this. The suicides were no longer restricted to his city, either. They had spread across his country. Reports were coming in of traders, merchants, inn keepers and parents of large families who killed themselves in the most monstrous fashions.

  And it was all his fault. Why had he ever believed that they needed the help of that which they wanted to eradicate? If he had not gotten Aeron involved, his people would yet live. The body count was no longer accurate. With more people dying every day over the country there was no way to know for sure how many were dead.

  He had failed his people. Magic had to end, but this was no longer humane. Even the worst criminal deserved a sense of humanity, a trial, yet he denied his subjects even that. Not only them, but their families, too.

  And in all this chaos, Cale still refused to come forward. Rubbing an itch on his head, the king had to wonder if it still mattered. Would Aeron end the curse she had unleashed? She seemed to revel in its cruelty. Sadly, so did his commander. That man was blissfully happy these days, overjoyed with the horrors of sadistic slaughter.

  Disgusted with himself and the methods he had stooped down to, he wept for the souls of the people who had once believed in him. Suicide was an unforgivable crime in the eyes of the Maker, who celebrated life and its joys above all else. They would be refused a seat by his side to forever wander the Dark Mists, and tired King Aeric hated himself for having brought this fate upon them.