Wings of Ruin (Otherworld Book 3)

by Talis Jones

  “This is not over,” she reminded him. “Do not forget that my rise was only possible upon the backs of the willing. Even with me gone the Jourdies will demand my promise.”

  “Innocent sheep, easily swayed,” Abel interjected dismissively. “They can be swayed again.”

  Cassandra smirked. “And that patronizing assessment, Abel, is why my promise will stand.”

  Abel scowled, his mouth snapping open to deliver some more foolishness, but before he could utter another scathing word in her direction, Cassandra cut him off with a dismissive turn of her head. He was nothing.

  “I will return, dear Titus,” she vowed in a voice like velvet-wrapped steel. “To this very spot I will return. I will claim these ruins and build my empire upon its broken bones.”

  Titus' eyes darkened at her threat. “Never.”

  Cassandra tutted. “Never say never, Titus.”

  “How could you have betrayed your oath, Cassandra? You dreamt of power and I gave it to you. You had vision and ambition, tools I knew would serve the Island well if given the chance. You began this new life willingly, happily. You once stood at a crossroads with your face turned toward the light. Whatever put you on this path of futile lunacy?”

  Cassandra turned her head slowly until her eyes locked with Abel's. “I took the path less traveled when a prophecy decided it so.” A wolfish grin caused the boy's face to blanche. “And it has made all the difference.”

  Oh yes, Abel knew his part in this play. Today he would win, but she would return and when she did he would lie awake every night wondering when she would strike him through. Perhaps she never would. Perhaps the torture of not knowing would be the game she'd play.

  At last she settled her gaze upon Medusa. Silly girl had the gall to look pained yet honor bound. “You called me friend,” she murmured. A true slice of pain stung her from the betrayal. She'd been able to envision a future with Medusa by her side, full of laughter and her annoying penchant for rule following. But it was not meant to be. Medusa had never been a friend, only a monitor for her actions and Cassandra's plans had always been too wild for her to stand by. Even so...it scarred.

  Medusa's cloak of duty only wavered for a breath before replying in an equally somber tone, “And so you were.”

  Titus shook his head recapturing Cassandra's attention. “It is time for you to leave.” With a gesture the raven that had imbued Cassandra with strength pushed off her shoulder and settled upon Titus' left causing her eyes to widen as she took in both birds.

  “And the crows?” she demanded.

  His lips twitched in a brief smile. “Mine too.”

  “Spies,” she hissed.

  No denial, just a shameless shrug. “Time to go,” he repeated.

  Israfil finally stepped forth and as if it were a signal the drums began to pound. Such theatrics, Cassandra thought and yet she loved it.

  “For crimes against Oneiroi, banishment has been sentenced for the Whispers whom aided this madwoman's quest.”

  Alexei, Suyin, and Tiago bowed their heads in silence, a cross of anger and guilt in their eyes. Titus magiked shackles upon their wrists. “You will wait upon my ship until we sail at dawn.” And with that they vanished.

  “For her second in command,” Israfil announced to the gathering, “a curse in place of banishment.” Her gaze rooted Kenshin to the spot. A small flash of sadness filled her eyes only to be quickly overcome by her disgust. Israfil approached him on regal footsteps, one hand stretched out until it rested over his heart. “If we were to banish you with her, even if separated by oceans, you would be too likely to find her. We cannot risk that. So instead you are cursed. Make amends before the change completes or fade into the afterlife forever as a wolf.”

  Kenshin swallowed thickly. “Have I no chance? My only consolation for making amends is to pass into the afterlife as a man once again?”

  “Were you even a man in this life?” she sneered.

  He flinched at her words but no apology wavered his words. “A man in love. I am sorry I was not enough to keep her on the path of light, but it wasn't I who abandoned her even when others demanded I should.”

  “Fine,” she smiled wickedly. Leaning in so as only he could hear she murmured, “True love's kiss will break the curse instantly. However if you truly believe it to be her then it is already a futile path.”

  “She will return,” he promised quietly.

  As she withdrew her hand, returning to Titus' side, several Whispers gasped. Kenshin made no attempt to inquire at what had been done, he refused to give the woman the satisfaction. Instead he straightened his spine, met Cassandra's gaze one last time, then parted the crowd with his unwavering gait until at last vanishing into the darkness.

  Cassandra would never forget the expression on Kenshin's altered face. He'd looked like a warrior unafraid, awaiting his commander's next order. The softness was gone, replaced with resolution, and the single wolf's eye that glowed from his beautiful face made her believe it in full.

  “I suppose that just leaves me then.”

  Israfil shook her head angrily at her dismissive tone. “Have you no remorse for your actions? Any emotions at all? Not even anger at being punished and having your friends torn from your manipulative grasp?”

  Cassandra smiled. “No.”

  “No?”

  “No,” she repeated with blunt emphasis. “Why should I have remorse for what apparently was preordained? Why should I be angry at an obstacle in the path that can be shifted with patience? Why should I mourn the loss of pawns in my far grander game?”

  Silence hung between them until Cassandra broke it once more. “I apologize if this night has been rather dull for you. Perhaps you'd expected to fight us. We might have if it were not a foolish thing to do with our loss inevitable. They follow my lead and I remained unconcerned. Whether they'd hoped for a secret plan up my sleeve or simply followed suit in receiving their punishment with impressive aplomb, I don't know and do not care. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get this banishment over with so I can carry on with my night.”

  Cassandra was not sure she'd ever seen someone so furious, so insulted, so put back on their heels as Israfil in that moment. The woman had been struck speechless and Cassandra reveled in it.

  “One thing first,” Titus announced. “You shall surrender your magic.”

  Cassandra barked out a laugh. “My what? Impossible.”

  “Not impossible,” he assured her with no humor in his face.

  Suddenly a very unwelcome sensation itched at Cassandra's skin, that old familiar feeling of helpless fear. For that alone she would never forgive her old mentor. “Why?” she asked hating the current of panic laced through the word. “If I am to be banished to the Outer World then my magic would be rendered useless anyhow.”

  Titus's answering smile was grim even as she swore a flash of something streaked through his eyes. Surely not...anticipation? For what? “True, but if you were ever to find your way back upon these shores then it will be like a Jourdie. Powerless in all the ways you believe count.”

  With no time to argue and Titus' magic keeping her from vanishing from the circle, Cassandra could do no more than feel her knees buckle, her head tossed back in a scream as Titus' palm touched her heart and she felt the magic drain from her very blood. Agony splintered her mind into pieces, her grasp on time utterly gone. Whether it had been seconds, minutes, or hours she did not know but in the moment between the cease of his assault and her eyes rolling back knocking her into unconsciousness she noticed two things: Titus looked quite a good bit younger and she could feel that he had not taken everything. Drained to the dregs she might be, but he'd stopped before she'd been drained empty.

  Silence rent the air, her screams an echo, then blackness tore it all away as she slumped to the ground.

  Chapter 20

  Silent save the crash of waves and the chime of shackles, Cassandra pressed her face up towards the moonlight. Kept in separate rooms she await
ed her journey like the others in solitude, but unlike the others her mind already raced with her next steps. Wasting no energy on mourning her banishment she remained cocooned in her plans nearly missing the moment the sun overtook the moon and Titus' ship shoved off the docks.

  Despite being kept in the dark, no longer privy to Titus' thoughts, she knew by the length of the journey, the sounds of their destinations, and the muffled voices of Titus' sailors that they were being split up. Scattered across the globe so that they may never reunite. A wasted effort for Cassandra could always find replacements, and better yet these fresh comrades would not be weighed with guilt nor chastisement and be tempted to amend their actions seen as treason by the Council.

  Without their magic stripped they would be far more useful than mortals upon returning to Oneiroi's enchanted shores, but the trust was no longer there and trust was what she would not risk. Even worse, they'd be able to overpower her and use her as a bargaining chip to beg the Council's forgiveness.

  Cassandra's lip curled at the vile thought. Reduced to a pawn.

  However long it took Titus' cursed ship to toss them across the mortal realm like crumbs upon a pond she did not know, but she was ready with chin tilted high when she sensed her stop. Saved for last it was no surprise when heavy boots stopped outside her door.

  Kneeling down so as to speak eye to eye Titus warned, “Never return, Cassandra. Build a new life. Become a new person. A better person. Only death awaits you if you choose the Island as you were before.”

  His words were heavy, his face remarkably serious, but even so she could swear he almost wished she would return. She knew better than to think it was for any fondness. Titus liked his games and her returning would be playing right into one. But she too had learned to love games and returning remained a vital part of her play.

  She almost bit her tongue, but throwing caution to the wind she instead chose honesty. “Death waits on everyone's doorstep, Titus. Should I not have the freedom to choose where I am buried?” Titus remained silent and she pressed on. “I don't want a new life, Titus, for I've grown quite attached to the one you're trying so very hard to tear from my grasp. Enjoy this brief respite, for I shall be back.”

  A smile twitched his beard as if he couldn't help himself. “The prophecy controls nothing except to predict a promise of potential. You've cast your die and now we shall simply have to play through to the end. I sensed your great potential the moment I met you, the moment I held freshly birthed twins and heard the prophecy that bled your mother dry.” He leaned forwards, their noses inches apart. “I look forward to seeing your next move, Feuer.”

  Grasping her bound wrists he hauled her to standing in one swift move. His stolen youth altered his appearance greatly and yet the eyes were the same, the mannerisms just as clever. He was still her mentor and she would beg one last lesson.

  “Please, wait.”

  Either surprised or too curious of her next words to resist, he obeyed.

  “I only overheard part of the prophecy in Quidel,” she began, licking at her suddenly dry lips. “Might I hear it in full before parting?”

  He scrutinized her face, searching with suspicion for her motives. At last he dipped his head and she let out a long-held breath. “I suppose as it does concern you and perhaps hearing it in full will teach you a lesson on eavesdropping at doors.” Casting a quick glance over his shoulder to be sure no soul lingered by the open door he placed his palm against her forehead and her eyes flew open.

  The words slammed into her skull and seemed to echo there drowning out all other thoughts. When at last it hushed, she shook her head as if clearing the forefront of its sticky webs. Twins. Blight. Kill the third Crown. Touch not their blood. Only one only one only one...Mercy bestowed?...Never.

  Looking up into Titus' ancient gaze she muttered, “You were a terrible mentor.”

  No smile cracked his stony visage. “And you a terrible apprentice.”

  With that he grasped her upper arm and hauled her above deck, thrusting her into her next life. All the while she smiled to herself because she knew what so many did not – little girls with clever minds were often the most dangerous of them all.

  Chapter 21

  Union of Soviet Socialist Republics

  Stones clattered and scraped beneath Cassandra's boots as she marched herself along an abandoned stretch of shore and began to pace. Like an utter ass, Titus had rendered her unconscious with his magic, delivered her to an empty stretch of beach within distant sight of the docks, and summarily disappeared without telling her where or when she'd been banished. Her attire would inevitably be an issue, instantly flagging her as a foreigner and foreigners got fleeced. Language though was another matter.

  On Oneiroi magic worked to give its citizens understanding, but would such a thing still cling to her now? She hoped so. She had died before and become other so the chances were...well there was a chance. No matter what world she stood upon nor even with her magic suppressed by this mundane plane, she was matter of factly no longer a simple mortal.

  Releasing a slow and measured sigh she turned back towards the little coastal village. Trudging her way along with all the grace she could muster she determined to gather supplies and information then get the hell out.

  Birds shrieked in the cool, gray skies above and Cassandra flinched before straightening her spine in anger. Betrayed at every turn she would not let this obstacle crush her. She had a plan and an unusual amount of patience pooling in her soul. Children's laughter snapped her attention back to the lively village, its people bustling about seemingly immune to the icy gusts from the sea. Tugging her cloak tighter she decided to start small.

  As a giggling child ran past she whipped out her hand and caught his loose shirt yanking him to a halt. Kneeling down she mustered nothing but friendly warmth upon her rosy cheeked face and asked, “Might you tell me where I am?”

  The little boy scrunched his face for a moment and she worried she'd be saddled with the challenge of learning this land's foreign tongue when he finally answered and her body sighed with relief. “You're in the Soviet Union, miss.”

  Cassandra's face clouded with confusion. “The what?”

  He looked at her as if she just might be an idiot. “The Soviet Union.”

  She shook her head. “I'm sorry, I've been traveling for weeks and have not heard the news. Might this place have once gone by some other name?”

  He smirked. “You must live under a rock, miss.”

  Cassandra frowned. “Perhaps so, but tell me anyhow. Please.”

  Fear flashed in his eyes and Cassandra held his hand in a comforting grasp willing him to share. “Russia,” he whispered.

  “Ah,” she replied. “I see. I take it things are not quite so grand as they once were.”

  The boy scrutinized her face once more, distrust and panic beginning to bloom, and Cassandra knew she had to catch up on whatever history had passed since she last walked this earth.

  “What's your name?” she asked kindly.

  Biting his lip he shook his head.

  She smiled. “Well my name is Cassandra.”

  Swallowing thickly he dared ask, “Where are you from, Miss Cassandra?”

  “From far across the sea,” she confessed, her voice infused with promised stories and adventure. The boy's eyes widened and curiosity seemed to start melting his suspicion.

  “My name is Anton.”

  “Nice to meet you Anton,” she smiled. “Is there someone I can speak to about obtaining a job? I've just arrived and have no coin.”

  Anton thought for a moment, his brow scrunched in boyish concentration. “Yes, you must speak to Master Sergei. He knows all the goings on.”

  Standing she brushed off her skirts and followed the fleet-footed boy along a winding rustic road to what could only be a tavern. Ignoring the stares that followed them she accompanied Anton inside and strode right up to the bar. A rough-hewn man with a graying beard stood behind the bar wiping down gla
sses, his sharp gaze assessing her immediately.

  “I'm looking for Sergei. The boy, Anton, suggested he might be able to help me,” she announced to the intimidating figure who seemed to lack the need to blink. Despite her lack of power she found her ability to stare uncowed remained. She was glad for the “do nothing” she was in Switzerland would have stood no chance. The man remained silent. “I am assuming that he owns this establishment and by your air of authority in this place I'd wager he be you.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Am I wrong, sir?”

  Setting down the glass he'd been cleaning with unnerving calm he crossed his arms against his chest. It was only then she noticed the stillness that had settled across the once jovial tavern.

  “Who's asking?” he growled.

  “A girl in need of a job.”

  “She came from across the sea!” Anton piped up.

  The barman's gaze never moved from Cassandra's. “Did she now?”

  “She did,” Cassandra affirmed.

  “Well I find it odd that a girl is traveling all alone, especially one with such a posh accent. Tell me, what would one with such fancy words as you need a job for?”

  Cassandra snorted. “Posh? Fancy? I think you mistake those things for merely speaking the language correctly.”

  “You making fun of me and mine?” he growled angrily.

  “Only as much as you're attempting to insult and frighten me,” she shot back cooly. “I need clothing, food, and transportation. Last I checked those things require money and money comes from either thievery or a job. If you have no job to offer me then I shall be on my way.”

  “Thievery too rough a challenge for a girl like you?” he taunted.

  She sniffed. “I've done far worse. It is simply beneath me.”

  Cassandra locked her gaze with his, a battle of wills. She wondered at everyone's suspicion towards her person but she'd solve that mystery later. Right now she needed a damn job. She wasn't fool enough to take to the road in her current state without her magic and besides earn her money a local job would catch her up on her new circumstances. She probably should've made herself seem meek and mild rather than challenge this man with her brazenness...