Dreams of Fury: Descendants of the Fall Book IV

by Hodges, Aaron

  A stirring came from along the wall but Lukys did not take his eyes from Amina. Instead, he ploughed on, not daring to give the others a chance to object.

  “Your people will be permitted into the city, on your agreement there will be peace between them and those inside. What crimes you have committed…” he paused, then ground out the last words,” will be forgiven, at least until the war has ended.” He drew in a breath, guilt weighing heavy on his soul. “I warn you though, do not seek to betray us.”

  Amina watched him for a long time, and reaching out with his mind, he struggled to pierce the fog of her thoughts, to sense her mind amidst the swirling colours. Grey doubt flickered, the purple of hope too, but a hundred other hues too, mixing and changing as she considered his words…

  …until finally Amina shrugged, as though his offer was of no more consequence than a pebble beneath her horse’s hoof.

  “So kind of you, Sovereign, to offer me safe passage into my own city,” came her reply. Then a smile touched her lips and he saw a flicker of triumph in her eyes. “But very well,” she said, gesturing with a hand. “My soldiers are disciplined. They will not break the peace.” Her grin spread and her gaze turned on Erika, who seemed barely able to constrain herself. “Just be sure to keep your monsters and the barbarians under control. My soldiers will not hesitate to defend themselves.”

  Abruptly she raised her hand. Horns trumpeted from the gathered lines of her army, sounding the call to advance, as though she had arranged the signal with her soldiers beforehand. As one, the Flumeeren army surged forward, marching in ranks towards the waiting gates.

  For a moment, Lukys stood frozen atop the city walls. Terror rose in his chest as he watched the army approach. Had Amina outmanoeuvred him? If they did not open the gates now, chaos would ensue, and anything might happen in the confusion. Sensing Erika’s rage, the pain of Sophia and her Tangata, already he found himself regretting his decision. And yet…

  …there was no other choice. The weight of humanity’s survival—of all their survival—settled on his shoulders.

  Turning, Lukys nodded for Dale to signal the attendants below to open the gates for the Flumeeren Queen.

  26

  The Fallen

  Adonis and Maisie slipped into the Tangatan camp beneath the cover of night. Once the Flumeeren army had retreated into the city, they’d waited all day to see whether Maya would attack. But as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, it became obvious the Tangatan army was making no move towards the granite walls. Watching Maya’s hesitation after her previous aggression, Adonis couldn’t help but wonder whether something had happened, if perhaps the children…

  His heart quickened at the thought, but he pushed it aside. He couldn’t think of that now, could not allow himself to be distracted. It was difficult enough to concentrate with the thrumming of Maya’s Voice in his mind again…

  All was quiet as they slipped through the long grass of the hillside, down towards the waiting camp, towards the shimmering bonfires in the Flumeeren night. It wasn’t long before movement appeared in the darkness. A Tangatan guard stepped before them, her face creased with confusion.

  A…Adonis? her voice whispered into his thoughts, hesitant.

  True to Maya’s word, word of his exile had obviously reached even the lowliest ranks of his people. Still, Adonis was not without his own strength, his own cunning.

  Yes, he replied, reaching out with his Voice. He might not be a match for Maya, but Adonis still had a power over the lesser generations. I have been gone on a secret task for Maya, but now I have returned.

  You were…banished, spurned, the guard whispered, struggling against the waves of Adonis’s mind.

  But she could not have been more than fifth generation, her resistance futile.

  You will let us pass. The human has vital information for our Matriarch.

  With these words, Adonis felt the last remnants of the guard’s resistance crumble. She bowed her head and stepped aside, allowing Adonis to pass. Gripping Maisie tightly with one hand, as though she were his prisoner, he strode into the disorganised camp—though he kept his grip on the guard’s mind still, infusing her with confidence, with a joy that she had served her masters well. It would suppress her doubt, for a time at least.

  Shadows shifted in the night as they made their way through the camp. With their enhanced vision, the Tangata cared little for the dark, though he noticed how Maisie tripped and stumbled. Adonis found himself wondering how it would be to find oneself blind, unable to discern the shadow of an enemy from that of a tree or shrub. Such a terrifying, helpless existence, pitiful, when compared to the greatness of the Tangata…

  Adonis gave his mind a mental shake. Maya’s voice was growing louder now, seeming to vibrate his entire being, though he steeled himself against it. Her influence would only grow greater the longer they remained in the camp, and carefully he gripped the human’s hand tighter. Maisie had not seemed overly affected by the Old One’s presence, but nor could she defend herself against its affects. If something drove her to anger, Maya’s influence might drive her to ruin everything.

  For now, all he could do was take them in a broad circle around the centre of the camp, where Maya’s Voice was strongest. Even so, he could feel its effects within him, the growing desire to turn towards that centre, to go to his mate, to deliver the human to her judgement…

  Teeth bared, Adonis resisted and kept on, though his hold on the human tightened even further. He could sense her glances, the concern swirling from her mind and wondered how she could bring herself to trust him. She couldn’t even begin to understand his kind. He certainly did not trust her…did he?

  Adonis paused, glancing at the human, and Maisie raised an eyebrow.

  “Hey, stay with me, bud,” she whispered, clicking her fingers. “The plan, remember? Where are those kids?”

  Adonis hesitated, watching her, wondering, then abruptly he nodded. He turned towards the dense clot of fear, the terror radiating from a group that could only be the Anaheran fledgelings. The poor creatures only wanted to see their parents again, the noble beings he had made into slaves. He wondered how many of the Anahera would fall, never to see their children again, before this was all over.

  No more, if we can help it, he told himself.

  Yet there was another voice within him, a deeper voice, one that whispered this was madness, that they would never escape with these innocents. Even should they pass the boundaries of the camp, the city was a mile off and morning was fast approaching.

  One step at a time, he tried to supress the doubts, but it was a struggle now—one Adonis feared he would soon lose.

  Maisie gave a sharp intake of breath as a pair of shadows moved to bar their path. Adonis drew to a stop, fearing for a second they’d been discovered, but he soon realised what the reason for the presence of his brethren here. The knot of terror lay just beyond them—these two were guarding the fledgelings.

  Who goes there? the first of the guards hissed.

  There’s a human— the second started, but he broke off as Adonis quickly invaded their minds.

  This was a greater challenge, even for one such as Adonis. No amount of trickery would convince these Tangata to part with their charges, not without approval from Maya herself. And they were stronger too, of the fourth generation. To prevent them from raising the alarm, Adonis pressed his Voice upon them.

  Do no move, do not Speak, he ordered, before turning to the first of them. How many of you are there?

  A tremor shook his brother’s face as the Tangata struggled, but there was no resisting Adonis’s Voice, and finally the guard broke.

  Five! Came the gasped cry, even as the Tangata slumped to his knees.

  Adonis held up a hand, stilling the human at his side, then reached out with his mind for the other guards. He found them stationed amongst the children, alert for signs of treachery. The fledgelings might be young and apparently helpless, but they were Anahera still. Thankfully
, Adonis’s brethren were not alert for treachery from their own.

  One by one, he took their minds, swamping their thoughts with his Voice. When he had them all, Adonis ordered them to where he and Maisie waited, until finally all five stood rigid before him. Spasms racked their faces as they strained against his Voice, struggling to break free and sound the alarm, but Adonis held them—at least for now.

  Trembling with the strain, he turned to Maisie, and nodded.

  The human stood wide-eyed, staring at the guards, as though waiting for them to leap forward and tear her limb from limb. At Adonis’s gesture, she looked at him, her features knitting into a frown.

  “You’re doing this?” she whispered, shaking her head. “Incredible.”

  Teeth still clenched, Adonis gestured again in the direction of the children. Their time was short—he could not hold these creatures long. They couldn’t waste a second if they were to somehow escape with the fledgelings.

  The human finally seemed to understand and a look of resolve crossed her face. She disappeared into the darkness, leaving him standing alone with the Tangatan guards. Adonis could sense their eyes on him, their hatred as they fought his mental bindings. Silently he prayed for the human to hurry. Against these five, his strength would eventually fail and they would fall upon him, tearing him to pieces before turning on her…

  …Adonis’s stomach twisted at the thought and he straightened, determined to see this through, to…to…

  Maisie reappeared from the gloom. Adonis had no idea how she’d managed it so quickly and without struggle, but a group of tiny figures followed just a step behind. Their wings tucked close to their sides, the Anaheran fledgelings looked from Adonis to the Tangatan guards with open terror in their eyes.

  Adonis’s heart swelled at the sight all the same. For the first time that night, he felt they might actually accomplish their mission. But even as the thought came, he sensed a surge of emotion from the Tangatan guards, a terrible rage as they realised his plan and truly began to fight. A gasp escaped him as they stretched against his restraints. Quickly he refocused his attention on the five figures, commanding them to be still, to silence.

  A sound like nails on a chalkboard sounded in his mind as the five consciousnesses fought back, determined to defend the charge the Old One had given them. Sweat dripped from Adonis’s forehead as he panted, his entire being focused on his prisoners, struggling to hold them.

  “Adonis?”

  He flinched as Maisie’s voice intruded on his concentration. One of the Tangata leapt at the distraction, throwing his strength against Adonis and almost breaking free…

  Kneel! Adonis hissed, putting all his remaining strength behind his Voice, seeking to regain control before it splintered into a thousand pieces.

  A tremor shook the Tangata and he thought they would repel him. Then the moment passed, and one by one they fell to their knees.

  Releasing his breath, Adonis finally risked a glance at the human. Maisie stood alongside him, her eyes as wide as the Anaheran children, though in her case it might have been something her kind did to see better in the darkness. But the way she looked at him, the lines that creased her forehead, he could sense her concern.

  “Adonis, I have them,” Maisie said quickly, flashing a glance at the kneeling Tangata. “Come on, we have to reach the city before they sound the alarm.”

  Adonis said nothing. He couldn’t. All he could do was stand and stare at her, hands at his sides, hoping she would understand. She had too, surely? The perimeter guard had been easily enough to influence—they had no reason to suspect. But these five? They had witnessed his treachery first-hand. And they were stronger too. No compulsion would last once the force of his presence left. Nor would Adonis kill his own kind, whatever it might cost himself. They were his people still, his brethren. It was his own fault that Maya controlled them.

  Maisie stared back at him, lips pursed, fists clenched. He watched as realisation finally came to her, the truth dawn in those dark eyes. In the night, drained of their colour by the silver moon, they could have been as grey as his own. Indeed, her courage, her strength in the face of their enemies, she was as bold as any of his sisters.

  “I see,” she said at last, looking from Adonis to the guards. “You knew…this was to be a one-way journey.” She swallowed. “This better…better not be some convoluted plot to see your lover again you know…” A shiver shook the human as she turned to him. “She’ll kill you, you know? After this, when she learns what you’ve done…”

  Adonis inclined his head in a nod. He knew. Maya’s rage had been terrible to behold when he’d failed on the river. Now he plotted openly against her, had freed the Anahera. He could only pray to his ancestors that his death was quick.

  Exhaling, Adonis looked towards the distant city, where the dark walls were shadows even to his eyes. It would take Maisie more than an hour to cross the terrain with the fledgelings. Could he hold the guards until the dawn arrived? Even as he considered the prospect, he felt them fighting again, their collective wills pressing against his own.

  Quickly he made a gesture, a dismissal in the direction of that distant city. Still the human hesitated, until a whimper from the children caught her attention. She glanced quickly over her shoulder, and in that gesture, he glimpsed her own fear, the terror she struggled to conceal. A lump lodged in Adonis’s throat as he felt his regret. Everything that had happened to this woman, to these children, to his people—it was all his fault. If he had not woken Maya, had not led her back to New Nihelm, had not supported her against the old Matriarch…

  …but it was too late for regrets now. With a final nod to the human, he turned to his prisoners, taking a firmer hold of their minds. Stones crunched behind him as Maisie finally led the fledgelings away. Thankfully they were positioned near the edge of the camp and he hoped they could slip away unnoticed.

  If not…well, Adonis could do nothing more for the human now. All he could do was hold the Tangatan guards for as long as possible. So gritting his teeth, he stared down at his captives kneeling in the dirt.

  Five pairs of eyes stared back at him, hatred burning in their grey depths.

  An hour passed and the sun had touched the distant horizon when their collective strength finally broke him. By then Adonis was on his knees as well, gasping for each breath as he threw every ounce of his strength into the battle. But as the sun lit the walls of the distant city, the last of his strength slipped away and he collapsed to the dirt. Abruptly, the flow of power reversed, and the crushing strength of five Voices crashed against his mind.

  The cry of five Voices echoed through the Tangatan camp, sounding the alarm, alerting his brethren to their peril.

  Chaos ensued as the Tangata responded, leaping to their feet in preparation for battle. At first their response was one of confusion, their minds fixed on the humans, expecting an army to descend upon them at any moment.

  It was long minutes before the Voices of the five guards cut through the chaos. Their panic turned to anger then as realisation spread through the Tangatan ranks.

  That one of their own had betrayed them.

  Adonis shrunk as the collective will of his people turned in his direction.

  But before it could strike, another stirred, a mind beyond all others, a rage that made the thousands around him seem like candles before an inferno.

  The Old One came for him.

  27

  The Queen

  Erika had never known such rage. It burned in her veins, filling her with the need to destroy, to unleash the gauntlet against her enemies, to see them writhe and scream and beg for her mercy. How satisfying it would be, to watch the queen fall, to see her die slowly by Erika’s hand, in recompense for everything the woman had done…

  …a tremor shook Erika and the image faded, replaced by one of Queen Amina standing over her, matching gauntlet aglow, whispering for Erika to give up, to surrender. A moan tore from her lips, a sharp, rasping cry in the peaceful
darkness of the dawn.

  Erika struggled against the urge to flee.

  Because the truth was, beneath her anger, a terrible fear held her tight, a terror for what the queen would do, now she had regained her city.

  Rising from the pile of straw she had used as a bed, Erika knelt in the gloom of her tent. She had spent the night with the Calafe, in the square still called their own, rather than in the citadel. Just the thought of sleeping under the same roof as the Flumeeren queen made Erika sick with terror.

  And if Erika had been enraged by Amina’s admission to the city, the Calafe had been livid. It was all Erika could do just to keep them from storming the citadel. She still wasn’t sure whether it had been the right decision to stop them, to accept the peace Lukys had brokered. She knew Amina. There was always something more to the woman’s actions, some ulterior motive that would see her enemies crushed.

  Steeling herself, Erika finally gathered herself and rose from the straw mattress. Leaving Cara to sleep in the corner she had claimed for herself, Erika stepped from the tent. A shiver ran down her spine as the brisk morning air greeted her. A flicker of movement nearby announced Darien’s presence. The man had appointed himself her guard, and was never far from her side now.

  She nodded a greeting that the man returned. “Couldn’t sleep, Your Majesty?”

  Erika supressed a frown at the title. She might have asked for this, but it still sounded strange to her ears. Shaking off her own doubts, she shrugged, and her gaze was inevitably drawn to the citadel towering on the hill above. There was to be a meeting of Monarchs this morning. She would have to be present, to stand in the same room as the woman who had killed her father and listen to her speak. Just the thought of seeing Amina’s smiling face was enough to spark a flicker of light from her gauntlet.

  Shivering, Erika forced herself to exhale, then turned to stroll down the lines of the Calafe camp. The refugees were only just beginning to rise, and she watched with interest as they prepared kettles over freshly lit firepits, as they hugged and waved greetings to one another. Her people. It was still difficult to believe it, that they would welcome her so freely after all these years in exile.