They made a loop around the plaza before returning to her tent. Cara’s snores still came from within and Erika hesitated to wake the Goddess. She feared going to the citadel alone—very little could stop Amina now she was within the city. In fact, Cara might be the only one capable of going toe to toe with the queen. But the Goddess needed rest after their time on the road, after everything the two of them had been through, and Erika was about to turn away when a harsh cry came from within the tent.
Cara appeared a second later, still only half dressed, wings spread, amber eyes aglow with…something. The Goddess swung wildly from side to side, before finally seeming to notice Erika.
“Erika!” She gasped. “Somethings happening, beyond the wall, with my people. They’re terrified!” The words tumbled from her mouth faster than Erika could follow, then ceased abruptly. “Their voices…” Cara murmured, before her eyes widened. “The fledgelings!”
“Cara, what—” Erika tried to make sense of the Anahera, but Cara cut her off.
“The Fledgelings!” she cried again. Abruptly, the Goddess hurled herself into the air, leaving Erika and the other Calafe staring dumbly after her.
Erika’s heart pounded hard in her chest as she watched her friend spiral upwards, auburn wings flashing in the light of the rising sun. Panic spread through her soul as Cara disappeared beyond the rooftops, leaving her behind.
Whispers spread around Erika, growing quickly as the Calafe emerged from their tents in search of the source of the commotion, only to find their bedraggled queen standing in the middle of the street, eyes on the heavens. They followed her gaze, confusion in their eyes.
It was long seconds before the import of Cara’s words finally struck Erika. The fledgelings, the children of the Anahera…it couldn’t be, could it?
Something swelled in her chest, a sudden hope, the glimmer of a possibility. Then she was spinning on Darien, drawing an aura of authority about herself, igniting the power of her gauntlet.
“Darien, gather as many of our warriors as you can, now!”
The one-armed warrior didn’t hesitate to ask questions. In an instant he was turning from her, bellowing out orders. Despite the ramshackle appearance of the camp and the ragged appearance of her people, they obeyed with the discipline of trained soldiers. Those still fit for battle cast aside loafs of bread and mugs of coffee in exchange for great-axes and broadswords. Within minutes, a force of a hundred men and women had gathered around Darien in answer to their queen’s call.
Erika swallowed as their eyes fell upon her, taking in the glittering weapons and hard faces. Only once had she led soldiers into battle, when she’d forced Lukys and his Perfugian regiment to follow her south of the Illmoor River. It had ended…badly. But she could not hesitate now.
“Calafe, my friend needs our aid,” she said shortly. There was no time for long speeches. “Follow me!”
At that she spun on her heel and raced from the plaza, praying that her new authority and Darien’s respect amongst their people would be enough to convince these warriors to follow. It might have been her imagination, but there seemed to be a pause, before the pounding of boots finally chased after her. Her eyes on the sky, Erika exhaled in relief, but she couldn’t count her blessings yet.
Above, she glimpsed Cara as the Goddess soared back over the city. Spying Erika below, she gestured violently in the direction of the gates. Then she was gone again.
Baring her teeth, Erika charged through the city after her friend. The Calafe ran with her, Darien drawing alongside her, others moving ahead. With the early hour, the streets were mercifully quiet, and those already outside stepped quickly aside at the sight of the charging Calafe.
Then they were bursting into the courtyard before the city gates. The gates themselves stood barred to the enemy without, though in truth they would make little difference when the Tangata could scale the walls in seconds. The guards on watch snapped to alert at the sight of Erika and her Calafe. She waved urgently to them as she raced across the courtyard, gesturing at the gates.
“Lift the bar!” she bellowed. “By order of the queen!”
Knowing she had no power over these men, Erika neglected to say which queen. Panic showed in the eyes of the Flumeeren men at the sight of a hundred grizzled Calafe charging towards them. Whatever objections they might have had to her command were forgotten as Erika and her followers reached the gate, and the guards belatedly leapt to obey her.
The doors swung open with a soft squeal of old hinges. Erika caught a glance from Darien, the flicker doubt in his eyes, but there was no time for explanations now—even if she had fully understood what was happening. So instead, she darted through the opening, and summoned the power of her gauntlet.
To their credit, the Calafe followed Erika despite her apparent madness, though it was definitely not her imagination this time that several hesitated. She could hardly blame them. Whatever her claim to the throne and the magic she wielded, Erika was still an outsider, yet to fully earn their loyalty.
Open ground stretched beyond the gates. The land around the city had been cleared just days ago in preparation for the siege, to ensure there would be no shelter for the Tangata to come creeping upon the defenders. The sun was just beginning to peek above the distant mountains, its heat washing across the land, lighting up the long grass…
…and the distant ranks of the enemy.
Erika paused to catch her breath as she looked across the mile that separated the city from the Tangatan camp. And in that pause, she caught a distant rumbling, as of a thousand feet pounding the earth, of a hundred voices raised in anger.
Icy fear lodged in Erika’s throat, and she struggled to inhale as she glimpsed the cloud of dust rising from the horizon. Her stomach tied itself in knots and she scanned the sky, seeking, searching…
“There!” Erika shouted, pointing.
Cara plummeted from the air a half mile out, swooping towards the ground, wings snapping wide to slow her moments before she alighted amongst the long grass. Fist aglow with power, Erika set off at a sprint, though her lungs were already burning from their headlong race through the city. As Darien and the other Calafe glimpsed Cara, they chased after her, impressing Erika with their bravery.
Blood pounded in Erika’s ears as she ran and she scanned the long grass ahead, searching, praying, hoping. It grew higher as they drew farther from the capital, untamed but for the few lines that were Flumeer’s roads. Surely they must be somewhere…
Erika’s heart lurched as a figure burst from the grass ahead, brown eyes wide, face panicked as she glanced back, urging others behind her to hurry.
Maisie, the Gemaho spy.
Such was Erika’s shock, she almost staggered to a stop right there. Maisie was meant to be dead, fallen in the Mountains of the Gods. How many more of her former companions were destined to rise from the grave this week?
Shaking herself, she leapt forward. Maisie’s eyes widened as she glanced towards the city and finally noticed Erika and her Calafe, shock showing in her face, though it turned quickly to relief.
“Erika!” her cry sounded above the distant pounding. Only…that pounding was no longer so distant. “They’re coming!”
Erika hardly heard the spy’s words, as suddenly more figures were bursting from long grass in front of her. Gasps came from around Erika, then the Calafe were stumbling over themselves to stop, staring open mouthed as the tiny Anahera darted amongst them, adolescent wings flapping uselessly as they struggled to keep pace with the human they followed.
Several of the Calafe reached belatedly for their weapons—the Anahera had sided with the enemy after all—but these were quickly lowered again when they saw the terror in the eyes of the youths.
Only then did Erika and her people return their attention to the distant rumbling, to the pounding on the air, the vibrations of a rage so terrible Erika swore she could sense what Cara had never quite been able to describe in words.
The Tangata were coming
.
“Calafe, on me!” Erika screamed, lifting her fist to ignite the light of the gauntlet.
The sight of her magic steadied their line as Darien fell in at her side. Maisie had vanished after the fledgelings. She was no warrior, and would be needed to shepherd the young to safety. That left Erika and her Calafe to deal with the enemy.
One hundred Calafe warriors and their mad queen.
Against a Tangatan horde ten times their number.
“Form up around me, weapons to the fore!” Erika bellowed, doing her best impression of Romaine when she had seen him commanding the Perfugian recruits.
The last of the fledgelings passed between the Calafe ranks as her followers pressed together, and Erika risked a glance over her shoulder. The gates were barely in sight, half a mile off at least. She gritted her teeth.
“Controlled retreat, weapons to the enemy!” she called.
Darien nodded alongside her, and though the Calafe were not trained soldiers, they began to withdraw, eyes never leaving the direction of the enemy. It seemed to Erika that they held a collective breath, waiting for the first of the enemy to emerge from the grass, to leap upon their line.
A shadow on the horizon drew her eyes to the sky, and her heart twisted as she spied distant wings, too far and too many to be Cara. The Anahera. She and her people might hold a few Tangata, but her hundred would be decimated by even one of those creatures attacking from above.
Then with a roar, the Tangata were upon them. The first exploded from the long grass and leapt at Darien, but Erika reacted without thought, directing a burst of power at the creature. The shriek of her gauntlet struck, bringing the Tangata to its knees, where a swipe of Darien’s sword took its head from its shoulders.
Others soon took its place.
Step by step, the Calafe continued their retreat, struggling as the dark creatures launched themselves from the grass, as the strength of the Tangata sought to break their lines, to recover the fledgelings their master had worked so hard to capture. There were only a few at first, the fastest of their kind. They attacked in madness, driven to such a frenzy that they barely seemed to notice the warriors that stood between them and their prey.
But even mad, the creatures were more than a match for a tiny band of Calafe. Erika did her best to use the gauntlet to slow them, allowing Darien and his fellow guards to strike the finishing blows, but she could only protect the centre. On either side, the line was quickly buckling beneath the Tangatan assault.
“Hold!” she cried as they stumbled back, but Erika’s voice was drowned out by the screams of her followers, by the death of those who had trusted her to lead them.
Chaos engulfed the Calafe as the tide of Tangata swelled. There was no time to glance back, to check how far they were from the gates, from safety. No doubt the guards would have barred their entrance by now anyway. Erika could only pray Maisie had managed to lead her charges to safety, that their sacrifice would not be in vain.
A scream tore from Erika’s throat as she unleashed another burst of power at a creature that evaded Darien’s sword. It crumpled before her magic and she screamed again, frustration building within, that after everything she had been through, this was how it ended.
She might have fallen then, might have lain down and died, but instead Erika lifted her gauntlet and fought on. She could feel the strength draining from her with each flash of light, but she would not surrender now. She would go to the void screaming, before she failed her people again.
Darkness fell across the battlefield as another Tangata came at Erika and she flinched back, raising her gauntlet to strike it down. Light flashed from her fist, but already more of the creatures were stepping up to take its place, snarls upon their faces.
She staggered back, sucking in a breath, struggling to stay upright, to gather energy for her next attack.
Before her strength returned, a sharp crack came from overhead, then a shadowy figured plunged from the sky. Another followed, then another, until dark wings all but blocked out the sky. Despair swallowed Erika as she looked upon their doom.
The Anahera had come.
28
The Sovereign
Standing in the great throne room of Mildeth, Lukys looked around at the gathered rulers and couldn’t help but feel himself an imposter. It was a familiar sensation by now, but one made all the worse by the presence of Amina. The woman stood pointedly opposite her throne, and even now he could sense her eyes on him, could feel her disdain. That emerald gaze seemed to pierce him to the core, to know the doubt in his soul, whatever outward illusion he presented to the world.
It is not an illusion, Lukys, Sophia whispered. You and I, we deserve to stand here. It is only your own doubt that does not allow you to see it.
He offered her a smile at that, though they did not say more. They knew now what Amina was, the danger she presented to them. She might be unfamiliar with the mental powers of the Anahera and Tangata, but that did not mean she was ignorant to them.
I just pray we made the right choice, Sophia, he replied finally.
She lips pursed her lips, eying the Flumeeren queen. She will never be a friend to my kind, Sophia said at last. Her hatred is too great. But…we had little choice, given the circumstances.
Lukys nodded, though he could feel the whispers of other minds within, the memories of Sovereigns that screamed to strike Amina down before she could betray them. But…he wasn’t sure they could have harmed Amina anyway. She wore the gauntlet of the Gods—or rather, of humanity, as Erika had explained to them. And with the strength of the Anahera coursing in her veins…
…well, he would feel better when Erika and Cara arrived. The pair might hate him for the decision they had made, but they were likely the only ones capable of controlling Amina now she was within the walls. They had spent the night in the Calafe camp, but with sunlight streaming through the broad windows above, the pair should have arrived by now. The hour of their meeting had long since passed, and he could sense the patience in the room growing thin.
Not that impatience was the greatest of their problems just now.
In his mind, Lukys could feel the distant pounding, the weight pressing upon his emotions. The influence of the Old One. He could hardly believe the strength of her Voice, to reach them even here. He had tried to counter her, to fortify the courage of his people as she toyed their fears, but even with the strength of the Sovereign gift, he felt as a pebble before the endless currents of the mountain river. He knew too little about those minds within, feared losing himself in their terrible depth.
Even without her influence, Lukys hardly knew where to begin with this meeting of monarchs, how he could possibly unite the warring factions within the city—let alone set aside the personal grievances between those present. Amina had not even allowed Zayaan into the meeting, claiming she would not recognise the authority of traitors, though the old advisor had run the city in her absence. It was a miracle she’d consented to the presence of Erika and Cara. And now they were late…
Lukys sighed, sharing another glance with Sophia. How far he had come since his arrival so long ago in Fogmore, when he’d first faced the Tangata. Romaine had saved his life that day, a whirlwind of power that had shielded him from death. How he missed the man, his strength, his conviction that what he did was right. Even now, he wondered what the man would think, how he would judge Lukys’s decision to parley with the Flumeeren Queen, despite everything the woman had done, the atrocities she had committed….
He would understand, Lukys, Sophia interrupted his thoughts.
Would he? Lukys murmured, staring at Amina now. She betrayed his people, destroyed his nation. She was probably behind the death of his family. No, I think Romaine would have killed her the second she set foot in this city. Who is to say we’re right, to keep others from their vengeance?
It is as Nguyen warned us, she replied. A ruler must set aside personal convictions, their own grievances, for the greater good of their people.
The words whispered into Lukys’s mind, granting him strength, quieting the voice deep down and finally he nodded. We will find a way to save your people, Sophia, he replied, recalling their conversation in Perfugia. I promise.
I know, Lukys, Sophia said in response. I believe in you, in us.
“Well!” Amina’s voice broke suddenly over their conversation. “Had I known this alliance would involve so much standing around, I might have chosen war after all, and spared myself the boredom.”
Lukys ground his teeth. “We are waiting—”
“I’m done waiting,” Amina snapped. She strode the length of the chamber, passing Nguyen and Lukys and Sophia, crossing directly to her throne. There she paused, glancing pointedly at the others, before lowering herself onto the velvet cushion. Crossing one leg over the other, she entwined her fingers and arced an eyebrow in Lukys’s direction.
“It seems the good Archivist will not be joining us after all,” she continued. Lukys narrowed his eyes, suddenly suspicious that the woman had done something to Erika, but she continued before he could question. “I suggest we begin, unless you’d prefer we wait until your Tangatan friends breakdown the gates.” The queen looked pointedly at Sophia as she spoke, and they could both sense the emerald of her hatred.
A soft growl, barely audible, whispered from Sophia’s throat, but to her credit, she did not rise to Amina’s bait. Instead, she took a moment to gather herself, then nodded her consent.
“I agree,” she said firmly, looking to Nguyen and Lukys. “We can apprise the Calafe queen later of what we discussed—for now, there are urgent matters that must be addressed, before Maya seeks a final confrontation.”
Dreams of Fury: Descendants of the Fall Book IV Page 18
