by N. M. Howell
Taelor blinked, looking down at the dead demigod, his eyes flaring with newfound interest. “This is one of Elgaaris’s guardians?”
“Yes,” Rhea said. “At least, she was.”
Taelor looked around him, his eyes sharpened and his gaze flicking from East to West, North to South.
Grayson joined them, placing a steady hand on Taelor’s shoulder. “What is it?”
“Elgaaris’s other two guardians were killed protecting him from Aeris, not long ago.”
Grayson blinked, standing straighter. “Is Elgaaris here?”
Taelor continued to scan their surroundings, but shook his head. “I’m not sure. But if he’s not, then he’s weak. Without his guardians, he lacks the strength to truly stand against Aelon.”
A chill swept over the group as the sun dipped beneath the western hills. Rhea shuddered, pulling her sweater tighter around her. The air cooled instantly, which helped somewhat with the smell. The breeze picked up and brought fresh air in from the west. Rhea breathed in a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing her eyes and allowing her head to fall back.
“We better get going,” Keaven said, stepping forward. “As much as I enjoy the night, it’s not ideal to travel in the dark.”
Taelor nodded, gazing up into the deep reds and golds of the sunset which shone through the foggy haze that hung low above them. “Yes, we must make haste. It won’t be long before looters come, and it’s best we get far away from here before they do.”
Grayson nodded his agreement. “This way,” he said, leading the way. Rhea followed, Taelor, Keaven, Roan, and Arry right behind her, walking in silence.
Rhea glanced back one last time, taking a mental picture of the vast fields full of dead bodies. She didn’t want to forget the sight. This was what happened in a world ruled by the gods. An overwhelming confidence settled into her bones at her decision to leave. There was nothing she could do to stand against this.
She turned to look ahead, her heart heavy for all the lives lost in battle between two evil gods who wanted to sit on a throne and rule with their iron fists. Rhea wondered how the world had fallen to such a state in the six years that she was gone. She never could’ve imagined that things would’ve gotten so bad.
As they neared the far edge of the battlefield, Grayson halted. He turned back to Rhea, his eyes moving back and forth between the view of the bloodied fields and her own sorrowful gaze.
“Now you see why it’s absolutely crucial that we brought you here?” Grayson asked.
Rhea was taken aback. How could he possibly think that she could prevent any of this? “What I see is a field full of dead bodies. Whether they were innocent or not, these people died fighting for a throne that I don’t want. I fail to see how I can help.”
“You can help by reclaiming the throne as yours,” Taelor said. “We know that you and only you will be able to put a stop to this. You are the rightful heir, and once you sit the throne, the people will stand up. They will do what is right and turn against these armies and eventually there will be peace.”
“I won’t sit on the throne.”
“What makes you hate the throne so much?” Keaven asked, his eyes soft.
“It’s just a stupid chair.”
“A chair you are meant to sit on,” Roan said.
Rhea couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “It’s a beautiful dream you have, guys. Really. But I didn’t come to reclaim the throne, remember? I’m here to see what small role I can play in helping to put the world on the right track to peace, but that role does not involve in any way setting a foot near that blasted chair.”
“We’ll get you a new chair,” Roan grinned, a sly smile across his face.
Rhea groaned. “Okay, it’s not about the chair. But I can’t take the throne. I’m not the one to lead these people to safety. And after seeing this battle, the sheer amount of destruction around us, I know in my heart that there is absolutely nothing I can do. It’s too big, too widespread for a single person to have any effect on. I don’t understand what you think I can do to help.”
Arry stepped forward, his eyes shining a violent green against the red surroundings of the sunset. “Don’t say that, Rhea. You may not see it now, but you will. Just wait.”
Rhea suppressed a yawn, exhaustion setting into her bones. “I won’t.”
But you hang onto whatever belief that you need to get by, she thought to herself.
“This isn’t helping any,” Grayson said. “She’ll see in her own time, in her own way. All we can do is guide her until then.” He turned and led them away.
They walked in silence for an hour, up the steady incline and away from the vast fields of blood and gore. Darkness set in around them, and Rhea grew cold as they went. Roan stepped near her, his body heat warming her somewhat. After she began to shake, he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. She smiled up at him thankfully and didn’t fight the gesture. She allowed his warm energy to wash over her and did everything she could to block out his magical energy.
She would allow him to keep her warm, but she wouldn’t steal his magic. After seeing how much these gods had taken from the world, including the lives of all those people who fought for them, Rhea vowed then and there that she would never take from anyone again. She would never use her magic. Not even by accident.
As she walked, she wove an intricate thread of magic through her body. A mental and physical block, disallowing her from using her magical abilities. It took every ounce of her concentration, and over the hour they walked, she focused on her own inner magic. By the time they reached a forested area far away from the evidence of war, she was confident that she had enough barriers built within her that she wouldn’t fall victim to her own terrible magic—to the curse her father laid upon her by inflicting her with her ability to steal from those around her.
Their pace slowed as they entered a thick wood. Tall trees with dried branches and hardly any leaves loomed over them. They walked between the wide trunks, Grayson looking for a place to set up camp for the night. But quickly the trees began to thin, and before they knew it they were coming out of the other side of the forest, and had emerged onto another series of vast green hills. The hills rolled in every direction before them, glowing eerily in the low moonlight that shone through the fog.
Rhea fought the urge to collapse when they finally slowed, willing every ounce of strength left in her body into her legs to push her forward. Her knees were growing weaker and her thighs quivered with every step. Grayson noticed and slowed even further, until the pace of their entire group halted to nearly a standstill.
Rhea leaned on her hands against her thighs, exhaling slowly as she tried to regain her strength.
“We’ll stay here for the night,” Grayson decided.
Rhea looked up at him thankfully and nodded her agreement. “Okay, thank you.”
They prepared to busy themselves with setting up a small camp, Roan having carried a small supply of tents and other objects in the bag he carried slung over his broad shoulder. He reached into his bag, but froze, swiveling his head as if his ears were picking up sound in the distance.
A sudden large crash and explosion drew their attention to the top of the far hills before them. Rhea gasped as a large cloud of black smoke appeared from over the ridge and a chorus of screams and shouts erupted in unison. The screaming didn’t subside and the smoke billowed even higher, the tips of flames evident from beyond the hill.
Rhea turned to Grayson in horror. “What was that?”
Grayson braced himself and turned to her. “I don’t know, but nothing good.”
The sound of a child’s scream echoed around them, sending a chill up Rhea’s spine.
Taelor’s face turned to stone. “We need to help them.”
Rhea turned to him, holding her arms tightly around her waist, fear coursing through her veins. “What was it? Do you know?”
Taelor shook his head, a deep frown on his delicately cut face. “Not sure, but w
hat lay over that hill was once a peaceful area of the realm. My people frequented this area for trade. We called it Breyneir, and I believe there is a small village in its center. I worry about the safety of those on the other side of the hill.”
Rhea nodded her understanding. “Right, let’s go. Whoever caused that explosion, we have to stop them.” She stepped forward, her body tense with determination.
Grayson glanced down at her, an expression of mild amusement on his face. He looked impressed.
“What?” she asked, glancing back up at him, catching his expression.
Grayson simply shrugged and led the group forward, his long stride setting the pace toward the top of the distant hill. “Nothing at all. Let’s go check it out.” A smile formed on his lips.
Rhea picked up her pace and began to run. The fatigue she’d felt earlier had all but disappeared in her need to help. Her mind raced with the horrors of what could possibly be found on the other side in the fire. She pictured the same devastating scene they had just passed on the battlefield, but this time with children and fire. Her fists clenched and she muttered threats below her breath as she pressed forward. A thick anger was setting in deep within her core at whoever caused the fire.
Arry laughed behind her, practically skipping to keep up. “Hey, guys, looks like we’ve got our princess back.”
“Not just the princess,” Roan said. He strode forward, his strong legs easily maintaining a quick pace. “Looks like we’ve got our little warrior back, too.”
9
The entire village was ablaze.
Rhea and her five guardians stood atop the hill, looking down into the nightmare that sprawled below. Her muscles tensed as her eyes darted from one horror to the next, buildings crumbling to the ground and black smoke and explosions erupting throughout the narrow, winding streets. People screamed and ran—men, women and children alike. Rhea couldn’t spot the source of the attack and turned to Grayson. “What’s going on? Who would attack a village like this?”
Grayson stood still, his muscles just as tense as Rhea felt. “There’s only one person who would use such an attack,” his voice growled, his tone menacing and dark.
Rhea looked up into his stormy eyes, which were nearly black with rage. “My uncle.” She didn’t even need to pose it as a question. She knew. “But why would he do such a thing? We’re not close to Greystone.”
Taelor stepped forward, his face even paler than it usually was. “So long as cities stand, Greystone and whoever rules it will always have potential enemies. By wiping out each and every city, town, and village, he will ensure there is no one left to fight his claim.”
Rhea shook her head in disbelief. “But the elves have never held any interest in the throne, have they?”
“No, we’re a peaceful race. We prefer being out on our own, separate from the ridiculous politics of the gods.” He turned to her and offered a small smile and shrugged. “No offense, or anything.”
Rhea laughed a quick somber laugh. “None taken. Trust me, I want nothing to do with it, either.”
Rhea stood and looked back at the inferno, her body frozen in place and her faded coppery hair blowing in the soft breeze. Tendrils of the black smoke spiraled around the village, filling the sky with a thick, gray haze. Her eyes burned with a ferocity she hadn’t felt in years.
Another loud explosion sounded from in front of them. It made Rhea jump back. Her chest tightened with anxiety. Louder screams came this time. She watched as a crowd of people fled a large building that was now turning to ash. A woman carried her small child, screeching loudly with tears streaming down her face as she ran to safety. But there was nowhere safe to run.
“This isn’t right,” Rhea cried. “We have to help them.”
Grayson stepped in front of her and shook his head, placing a firm hand on her shoulder so she couldn’t run. His eyes were menacing, calculating. He knew exactly what was going on. “No. We turn around. There’s nothing we can do here.”
Rhea turned to him, a blaze of anger flashing through her. “What do you mean, we turn around? Look at them down there.” She shot her arm out toward the burning village, the scene growing more chaotic by the second. “People are dying, and you’re saying we should just turn around?”
He increased the pressure of his hand on her shoulder. “Yes.”
“It’s just fire!” she cried. “You’re a freaking gargoyle. Fire doesn’t even affect you.”
“It’s not just fire,” he growled, raising his other hand toward the inferno. “Look, that’s not an accidental blaze. That’s an intentional attack, and whoever caused those explosions is likely still down there. It’s too dangerous.”
Rhea sucked in a breath and pulled her shoulder from his grasp. She squared her shoulders. “What you mean is that you don’t want to help them. That’s your choice. Look at them, they’re dying. We have to do what we can to save them.”
Taelor stepped forward, an expression of sober anger across his face. “Grayson’s right, Rhea. Whoever is attacking those people in that village will also want you dead. It’s too great a risk.”
“But they’re innocents, all of them.” Her eyes stung with unshed tears, and her muscles were tight with anticipation. She wanted to run down there, to save them.
“They’re right,” Keaven agreed. “We’re too late to stop anything, anyway.”
“I don’t care,” Rhea cried, her body shaking with rage. “It’s my duty to save them. You’ve spent the last day trying to convince me of who I am. Well, I’m accepting it. Now let’s go save them before more people die.”
“Absolutely out of the question,” Grayson said. “The entire village is gone. It’s too late. I’m sorry, Rhea.”
Rhea’s gaze flew to the bottom of the hill where she heard a woman’s blood-curdling scream. It was the woman from before, running with her child wrapped in her arms, her orange hair glowing in the flames. The woman stopped running. She sobbed, laying the child on the ground and covering the body with her scarf.
Rhea’s voice caught in her throat, her heart failing to beat within her chest, a wave of icy cold washing over her skin. As she stared down at the elven woman grieving over her dead child, Rhea made up her mind.
“Try and stop me,” she said. Bolting forward, she ran down the hill toward the fires. She didn’t care who she was or who was after her, all she cared about was helping those poor people escape the flames.
“Grayson’s gonna kill you,” Arry laughed as he caught up and ran beside her, a wide, mischievous grin on his face. The man seemed to be fueled by chaos.
Rhea glanced sideways as she ran, her muscles tense and chest heaving. “You’re not going to try and stop me?” Her words came out in strained cries as she concentrated on her footwork, trying not to trip and fall down the steep decline.
Arry shook his head, the greens of his eyes shining wildly against the red firelight. “No, we have to do what we can. Just keep your glamor up and stay close. If you get even a hint that anyone here begins to recognize you, run. Don’t look back, just run. We’ll take care of the rest. Understand?”
Rhea’s breath came in ragged gasps, but she nodded. They approached the village and Rhea noticed the four others close behind. She had never run so fast in her life and her legs burned, the lactic acid flooding through her muscles.
The grass was withered, and dry plants crunched beneath each eager footstep. It looked like it hadn’t rained in weeks. No wonder the entire village went up in flames so quickly, Rhea thought.
As they reached the village, the heat from the fire burned her skin. She could feel the hairs singeing on her arms, but still she pressed forward.
A child’s scream came from a nearby building and she turned on her heels and ran inside, to the protests of her guardians, the smoke billowing so thick that she could hardly see in front of her. The cries came from the far room, and she covered her mouth with her shirt to block the smoke, crouched down low and began making her way into the bedroom.
Two elven children about the ages of seven and nine were clutched each other in the far corner under a table. She ran to them, taking their hands in hers and leading them out to safety.
Arry followed and ran upstairs, immediately returning with an unconscious woman in his arms, her long, light blue hair hanging nearly to the floor. “Take them down to the river,” he called to her from behind as they both raced out of the burning building. They made it just in time, the structure giving way in the street. Another nearby building collapsed in a pile of burnt debris, sending shards of burning wood and glass scattering across the street.
“What river?” Rhea asked, her eyes streaming from the smoke. She looked around frantically, trying to gather her bearings. The sky above them was ablaze with varying shades of toxic red and gray and everything was disorienting.
Grayson came up behind her and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her from the smoke that billowed out of the nearby building. “This way,” he said. He scooped up the children in his large arms and led Rhea toward the river.
The river ran down the hill and wrapped around the village, but was far enough away and low enough to escape the rising smoke. Grayson lay the children down and helped Rhea settle before she collapsed from inhaling too much smoke.
“You stay here,” he said. “Do what you can for these children, make sure they’re safe.”
Rhea nodded, glancing back worriedly to the village. “Save as many as you can, okay?”
Grayson nodded, turned, and ran back toward the burning village. Rhea turned her attention back to the two crying children. “Shhh, there there, everything will be all right now,” she lied to them, stroking their silken elven hair as she spoke. Their features were so delicate, their faces exuding innocence. “Everything will be okay.”
The river wound lazily through the surrounding trees, the water levels so low from the recent droughts. Rhea looked wildly around, hoping to find something that could help her, but she was on her own. Any hope of getting medical supplies had gone up in flame with the nearby buildings.
