“Cara,” she whispered.
Her concentration still on the bars of their cage, it was a moment before the Goddess looked back. When she did, Erika saw again the terror in her eyes, the fear they would both be consumed by the flames.
“Take it,” Erika said, holding out the gauntlet to the Goddess. “I…don’t have the strength to use it, but you do. Break the lock, save us.”
Cara’s eyes widened at the sight of the gauntlet. Erika had fought so hard to keep this artefact, had feared and yearned for it in equal parts these past months. Now she offered it freely to the Goddess.
“It’s forbidden for us to use human magic,” Cara whispered, still staring at Erika’s offering.
“Add it to the list of our crimes,” Erika retorted. “At least we’ll be alive.”
The Goddess swallowed visibly, hesitation written across her face, but finally she reached out and took the gauntlet from Erika. Holding it in her hands, Cara paused, looking from the artefact to the broken walls. Fear turned Erika’s bowels to ice as she saw that the fire had reached the cabin. The air was hot to breathe now, and tainted with smoke, it seared her lungs. As she watched, another wall went up in flames with a whoosh.
“Quickly,” she wheezed, swinging back to the Goddess.
Clenching her jaw, Cara slipped the gauntlet over her hand.
A burst of light flashed from the artefact, forcing Erika to turn away, but Cara did not hesitate. A low buzzing filled the cage as she thrust out her palm, slamming it against the lock. The shriek of twisting metal followed as the Goddess drew on her strength, far greater than Erika’s dwindling energies. But another scream echoed the breaking steel, torn from Cara herself, as though something within her were breaking, reacting to the artefact’s power…
The light cut off again as a sharp crack came from the lock—then the door to the cage was falling open, crashing sideways to the wooden floor.
A moan came from Cara as she swayed on her knees, and Erika was shocked to see a trail of blood running from her friend’s nose. The magic had cost the Goddess something, but there was no time to consider the price of their freedom. Grasping her friend beneath the arm, she pushed Cara through the opening, then scrambled out after her.
The heat swelled as they stood, Erika still supporting the Goddess. Smoke swirled about them, blinding, burning as they struggled to breathe. Dizzy from the darkness and her own weakness, Erika swung in one direction, then another, unable to find the direction of the door, of freedom.
“Erika!” Cara’s voice rose above the inferno as the Goddess straightened. It seemed all the world was aflame now, the pair of them standing in a tiny oasis amidst the firestorm. “Do you trust me?”
There was no time to consider the answer. “Yes!” Erika screamed.
The breath hissed from Erika’s lungs as Cara tackled her, picking her up, hugging her tight. Then they were hurtling towards the flames, towards the burning walls, towards the searing heat—
Dark wings enclosed them both, cutting off the brilliant light, the burning. A crash followed as they struck something solid, but whatever it was did not halt the Goddess’s momentum and they tumbled on, swirling, falling, tumbling…burning.
Erika opened her mouth to scream her agony—and the icy waters of the Illmoor rose to claim them.
15
The Sovereign
“We can no longer blindly follow your queen.”
A collective intake of breath came from around the room at Lukys’s words. Men and women rose to their feet, some banging fists against the table, others demanding an explanation for the insult. A spluttering came from Wallace and he rocked back in his chair as though Lukys had struck him.
“No!” the steward gasped. “You cannot betray her! You’re Amina’s closest ally.”
“Amina has had other allies—all of them are dead now, their kingdoms broken,” Lukys said harshly. Reaching up, he pulled off his veil and swept his eyes over the room. “I will not allow the same to happen to Perfugia.”
To his surprise, the room fell silent at his words, those gathered momentarily shocked by the removal of his veil. Even so, not everyone was frozen. The guards in the corner had hands on their weapons, and Ewan was on his feet. His stomach tied in a knot, Lukys sent a silent message to Sophia and Keria.
Be ready.
Abruptly, Zayaan pushed himself to his feet. Around the table, eyes flickered, turning to the old man. A frown wrinkled his face as he studied the pair of Sovereigns, as though he already knew what lay beneath Sophia’s veil. His frown deepened as Wallace continued to splutter, clutching at his chest as though in pain.
“Oh calm yourself, Wallace,” Zayaan snapped. Wallace’s gasps cut off as he stared up at the queen’s advisor, while Zayaan returned his focus to Lukys. “The good Sovereigns obviously did not come to conquer, or we would already be dead.”
Lukys frowned at the elderly man. He’d expected Zayaan to lead the resistance against them, being the queen’s personal advisor. Indeed, it seemed others in the room had thought the same, for with his words came an uncertain calm as the other nobles looked from Lukys to the elderly advisor.
Lukys drew in a breath. “We have received…word of a new threat to the south, of a creature beyond even the powers of the Gods. The ancient enemy of legend has returned—and your queen plays politics while the world burns.” He shook his head. “Her tyranny has gone too far. You speak of the renegade king Nguyen, but the man did not start this war with your kingdom.”
“Nguyen broke the alliance,” Zayaan said matter-of-factly, as though he held no position on the events of which he spoke. Alongside him, Wallace whimpered. “Amina’s invasion was retribution for that betrayal.”
“You can’t do this!” Wallace interrupted, pushing himself to his feet. Puffing, he swung on Zayaan. “You don’t understand, it’s impossible, she’ll—”
“Nothing is impossible,” Lukys cut the man off, leaning forward and pressing his hands to the table, eyes still on Zayaan. He sensed this was the man he needed to convince if they were to take this room without bloodshed. “If my presence here proves anything, it is the truth of those words. In just a few short months, I have witnessed Gods come to life, seen lost magics and the rise of creatures long thought to be extinct. I have…” he hesitated, glancing at Sophia before drawing fresh breath.
“If all that can be possible, if the Gods themselves still live, then we humans can find a better way. If only we can stand together, as one, we have a chance for peace, for unity amongst the kingdoms. Can you imagine, a world without war, without needless death? A world of peace.” He drew in a breath. “Even with the Tangata themselves.”
Finally the old man’s face showed a change in emotion, as he frowned at Lukys’s last words. Lukys could sense the tension building in the room, the doubt in the eyes of the men and women at the table. Peace with Gemaho and Perfugia was one thing, but these people still saw the Tangata as monsters, the enemy they had fought for ten long years to subdue.
But Perfugia was the Tangata now. He could not turn from that.
Lukys, are you sure? Sophia’s words whispered into his mind, drenched with doubt, with fear.
Fists clenched, eyes still locked on Zayaan. Lukys nodded. He sensed movement alongside him as Sophia reached for her veil, but he did not take his eyes from the queen’s advisor, did not so much as blink. If the man signalled for the guards to intervene, Lukys would be ready.
Gasps came from around the room, and Lukys watched the colour drain from Wallace’s face. Only the queen’s advisor remained steadfast, though his eyes did flicker in Sophia’s direction, widening a fraction as he registered the grey eyes of the Tangata.
“I thought it odd,” Zayaan said at last, a quiver in his elderly voice despite his mask of calm. “The creature’s accent…changed from sentence…to sentence,” he hesitated, eyes flicking momentarily to Sophia before returning to Lukys. “Might I ask how you tamed it?”
“I needed no tami
ng, sir,” Sophia snapped, reverting fully to her singsong accent. “I grow weary of saying it, but my people are not the monsters you think us.”
“One can be uncivilised without being a monster,” the queen’s advisor said softly.
This time a growl came from Sophia’s throat, and Lukys sensed the anger building in his partner at the old man’s words. Quickly he reached for her hand, seeking to calm her. There would be time enough for repudiation later. For now, they needed the people in this room on their side.
Probably shouldn’t have brought us along if you wanted that, Keria’s voice carried from where she stood across the room.
They would have realised the truth sooner or later, Lukys replied, before focusing his attention back on the queen’s advisor.
“Sir, I would advice you to remember with whom you speak,” he admonished. “Tangata or no, Sophia and I are the new Sovereigns of Perfugia. We will not hear you insult our people.”
To Lukys’s surprise, Zayaan chuckled. “In that case, might I assume you slew your predecessors yourselves? Is Perfugia burning even now, Ashura lying in ruins?”
“No,” Lukys shot back, looking from the man to the others at the table. He noticed several of those on their feet edging towards the door, but Dale had thankfully already moved to bar their exit. “The rest of our people are on their way here, in fact, with King Nguyen.”
“I see.” Clasping his hands behind his back, Zayaan stepped out from behind the table.
Lukys tensed and the man paused, one grey eyebrow lifting towards the fringe of his failing hair, as if to ask: ‘may I?’. After a brief delay, Lukys nodded, allowing the advisor to wander around the table. As he did so, Lukys sensed a distant call, as though one of the Tangata were reaching out to warn him of something. The horns began to sound from the city a few seconds later.
“I suppose that would be your fleet then?” Zayaan asked as he crossed to the window and looked out over the harbour.
Heart hammering in his chest, Lukys joined the old man and saw the blue and yellow sails marking the horizon. On the streets below the citadel, men and women scurried like ants, a steady flow making for the walls. Fists clenched, he looked to Wallace and Ewan and the others at the table, but none of them made any move to act. They all looked to Zayaan.
“It’s not too late,” Lukys said softly, his heart pounding. This was there chance, the moment they had been waiting for. If they could convince this man to turn against his master... “There doesn’t have to be bloodshed, Zayaan. Call off the guards, surrender the city, and we will face Amina and the Old Ones together.”
Unclasping his hands, Zayaan turned from the window, and for a second Lukys thought the would scream for the guards to attack, for the Flumeerens to resist at all costs. Then the queen’s advisor met his eyes.
“No harm will come to our people?” he murmured. “Our city will remain unharmed?”
“None,” Lukys said, his Voice ringing silently in emphasis of his words.
A grim smile appeared on the old man’s face. “Very well, Sovereign,” he said softly. “It seems Amina’s reign over Mildeth has come to an end.”
“No!”
A scream from the table was followed by a crash as Wallace attempted to leap across the wooden boards. He tripped and fell, but moving with a speed that belied his size, he scrambled up again. Steel flashed as he charged at Lukys, but Sophia was faster still. Though the steward was four times her size, a blow to his sternum sent him crashing to the floor.
Lukys’s gut churned as he approached the man. “Wallace, there is no need for this,” he said, even as the steward struggled against Sophia’s impossible strength. She was forced to push him face first against the ground and pin an arm behind his back, but he still continued to scream and whimper, sobbing into the wooden floors.
A frown touched Lukys’s forehead as he knelt beside the man, trying to make sense of his words.
“Please!” Wallace cried. “You don’t understand, you don’t know what she is! Amina, she does not forget. She’ll kill us all if you cross her!”
16
The Tangata
The water was the only thing that saved Adonis.
Even as the fire licked at his flesh, he felt the force of the explosion lift him up and hurl him backwards, sending him tumbling through the air, over and over until he struck the river with a harsh thump.
The icy waters extinguished the flames instantly, though the pain remained, the lingering agony of burns to his face and chest, a shrieking from his flesh that he knew would only grow.
For the moment though, he had more pressing concerns than his pain. Submerged beneath the water, his lungs screamed and he kicked out, struggling in the depths, unable to tell up from down, to find the surface. Caught in the currents, he slammed into something hard—and moving. Another of his brethren, or the queen?
Regardless, he caught hold of the unknown figure, fingers latching onto rough fabric—not the queen in her iron suit then—before he kicked out again, finally glimpsing the light of the flames. They would mark the surface.
He broke free of the depths with a gasp, sucking great lungfuls of air into his lungs. Strength rushed back to his failing limbs as he looked around at a world turned to chaos. The screams of the dying and the roar of the burning ship thundered across the river. Gritting his teeth, he struggled to drag his burden up from the depths. Something weighed the figure down, and it took all his strength to pull them above the surface. Only then did he see why they had been so heavy.
Nyriah coughed and spluttered as her head broke the surface, her water-logged wings churning the river as she struggled to keep above the water. It was clear she had no idea how to swim—and that with her heavy wings, she was in danger of dragging them both back into the depths.
Cursing, Adonis struck the Anahera across the face.
Calm yourself! he growled, his rage pressing upon her mind.
It did nothing to calm her panic though, and gritting his teeth, Adonis reached out again. This time he sought peace, to rid himself of the rage that had driven him for so long. Slowly the Anahera calmed as he sought to share some measure of tranquillity with her, until finally she stilled in his grip.
Lay on back, he ordered. Tuck away your wings, if you can.
Adonis offered nothing more, but after a moment Nyriah obeyed. Cursing his own weakness and the growing pain of his burns, Adonis gripped her beneath the arm and kicked out towards the distant shore.
Behind them, flames lit the night as the human flagship burned. Adonis watched as it sank beneath the waters, and cursed the queen with all his being. How had she caused such an explosion? It had not been the magic of her gauntlet, but some other power, born of fire. Something the Tangata had never seen before.
For the first time in his life, Adonis felt a tremor of fear for the humans. This night, he had witnessed the threat Maya had predicted. Finally, he understood the danger these creatures posed. Worse, he knew now they were not led by a fragile mortal, but one of Anaheran descent, a creature that could stand against any of the Tangata, perhaps even Maya.
Lying in his arms, Nyriah said nothing as they swam, though she was shivering by the time Adonis’s found ground beneath them.
We are safe, Nyriah, he said softly. You can stand.
Her overly large eyes blinked in her pale face. Unlike himself, it seemed she had escaped the worst of the flames, though the force of the explosion must have been enough to knock her from the sky. Her water-soaked wings would have dragged her straight to the bottom if he had not encountered her in those swirling currents.
“You saved me,” she murmured, standing in the muddy shallows. Her wings spread wide and a tremor shook them, spraying water into the air. A frown touched her forehead when she looked at him, clothes clinging to her body in an…unseemly manner. “Why…master?”
Adonis gritted his teeth and quickly looked away. Your aid proved vital to our cause, he said vaguely. And I needed information. He loo
ked at her sharply, recalling his earlier suspicions. The creature we fought, the woman who led the enemy, she is not entirely human.
“No…” Nyriah murmured, quickly glancing away.
He was on her in a second, catching her by the wrist, squeezing. Despite his burns, he was still strong, still needed to know.
What is she? he hissed. Who is she?
The Anahera lowered her eyes. “Only one of our kind has left the mountains in generations,” she said softly. “Cara’s mother, Farhan’s partner before me. She disappeared one day. Though no one knew what had become of her, Farhan always suspected…she had a great interest in the humans.”
Adonis narrowed his eyes. “But that was not her?”
Nyriah shook her head. “That creature was not full-blooded Anahera. But perhaps…a daughter.”
Adonis nodded, his thoughts turning to the human Maisie. Had she known this? Was that why she’d sent him against the flag ship, knowing the queen would be there?
Anger touched him and suddenly Adonis was striding from the water, leaving the Anaheran woman behind him. Could the human have been manipulating them all this time, using their anger and hatred, their excitement to destroy the humans against them? It seemed unlikely—Maisie had been isolated from her people for weeks. But the humans were manipulative, cunning creatures. After this night, who knew what else they might be capable of?
The sound of footsteps on mud came from behind Adonis as Nyriah followed, but even with his injuries, she struggled to keep up, her wings still heavy with water. Adonis clenched his fists, casting a glance over his shoulder at the river. At least two other ships were burning—had they taken inspiration from the queen, or had this all been a trap from the start?
Dreams of Fury: Descendants of the Fall Book IV Page 10
