Monsters & Mist

by Taylor Fenner

A thundering of hooves echoes across the valley as a high pitched chanting takes up. Cygni crosses the watchtower to stand between Rolfe and General Cruelseas as a deluge of warriors astride horses of every color race toward the encampment, long curved blades raised above their heads as they converge at the gate.

  Rolfe calls down an answering chant and signals for General Cruelseas to open the gates. “The Order of the Thorn has arrived.”

  ❖

  Thane

  Bonfires lit up the training fields as the members of the Order of the Thorn laughed and drank home brewed ale late into the night. That was just one of the reasons Thane couldn’t sleep.

  He’d returned to his quarters immediately after another strategy meeting with Prince Cygni, the Perscesians, and the leaders of the Order of the Thorn but when he tried to fall asleep he’d tossed and turned and ended up staring restlessly at the ceiling. Giving up on sleep he climbed onto the roof of his quarters and watched the Order’s warriors who seemed undeterred as the trickle of rain hastened into a steady storm. When the cold seeped into his bones Thane jumped to the ground and decided a run would wear him out.

  The familiar paths through the living sector of the encampment were slick beneath Thane’s feet as he wove through one alley then another. The huts and cabins his Warriors called home passed in a blur as he pushed himself. Castor and Rian sat with Cutter on the steps leading into his cabin but Thane pretended he didn’t hear them as he sped past.

  It appeared that his feet chose Thane’s path for him when he found himself standing before Andromeda’s old hut. She’d reclaimed it after her return, choosing not to stay with her parents and sisters who were being housed in the long house used for a mess hall during bad weather.

  Thane stopped, telling himself he was only catching his breath as he stood ten feet from Andromeda’s darkened window. He hadn’t had a single moment alone with her since her arrival to make sure that she was all right. When she wasn’t with her family, Andromeda was never without the strange-eyed male who watched her like a hawk.

  “You’re acting like a creeper,” A raspy voice breaks the silence cloaking the alley.

  Thane shifts his attention to the stoop of Andromeda’s cabin. He knew the strange male was sitting there before he caught a flash of the white and gold of his eyes. Thane’s eyes dropped to the glimmer of silver that flickered in the rain-soaked night. It was a blade, a sword of some sort, and it looked like Thane had interrupted the male while he was sharpening it.

  “You don’t need that you know,” Thane nodded toward the blade. “None of the Warriors will hurt her or your people during your stay.”

  The male chuckled darkly, “Why should I believe the word of a man who was raised to kill my people since he was a child?”

  “I suppose you have no other choice,” Thane shrugged though the gesture was mostly lost in the darkness of the night. “The same way my people are taking a chance trusting yours after the years of children being stolen in the night.”

  “Aye,” the male retorted, “and who’s ‘people’ were responsible for the reason our people had to retaliate? Were it not for the monster on the throne in your capital we’d have had no reason to interfere with your lives nor you with ours.”

  “That’s such shi’ite,” Thane declared hotly, “your people have been at odds with all three kingdoms since the dawn of time.”

  “Only because one of the gods willed it,” the male shook his head in disgust. “I never could understand why the Landborn allowed their supreme ‘god’ to poison their minds against innocent lives just because Zarouk was a jealous bastard.”

  “You have no right,” Thane spits on the ground angrily.

  “Guys,” Andromeda’s voice carries sharply through the now-open doorway. “Knock it off or go have your pissing contest somewhere else.”

  “That wasn’t-” Thane begins but Andromeda appears leaning against the door and dismisses his protestation with a wave of her hand.

  “I don’t want to hear it,” Andromeda continues tiredly. “What I do want to know is why you’re at my door in the middle of the night?”

  Thane can feel rather than see the male sitting at Andromeda’s feet smirk. “I was out for a run. I hadn’t had a moment to talk to you yet so I wanted to see if you were all right.”

  “I’m fine,” Andromeda replies curtly. “Still in one piece as you can see, despite Garlyn’s best efforts.”

  “I’m sorry,” Thane blurts. “If I’d been here none of this would have happened.”

  Andromeda shrugs, “If not then, something would have happened eventually that unraveled who I really was.”

  Thane isn’t sure how to respond so he remains mute.

  “I’m going back to bed,” Andromeda announces turning back inside. She pauses to spare a glance at the male at her feet. “I told you I don’t need you sitting out here all night like a dog guarding his bone.”

  “The Queen insisted I stay with you at all times,” the male replies boredly like they’ve had this exact conversation a thousand times.

  “And sitting on my stoop all night depriving yourself of sleep is going to help me how?” Andromeda crosses her arms over her chest drawing unwanted attention to her thin white tunic. “Come inside if you insist on staying with me. You can sleep on the floor if you must.”

  “I don’t think Queen Carina would appreciate that,” the male replies reluctantly.

  Andromeda snorts, “you act as if I’ve never had a man in my bed before.”

  She goes back into her cabin and leaves the male sitting stunned stupid on her stoop.

  “Good luck dealing with that,” Thane smirks and turns back in the direction he came. He got the answer he was looking for. Torture, kidnap, and shocking revelations couldn’t shake Andromeda, she’s still the same spitfire who challenged Thane on a dusty coastal road all those weeks and months ago.

  ❖

  After the late night encounter outside Andromeda’s cabin Thane was finally able to fall asleep, knocking out almost the moment he lay down in his bed. He slept dreamlessly subconsciously knowing his nights of uninterrupted sleep in his own bed could end at any time when war arrived at his door.

  As night lightened to morning and the rain slowed, Thane’s slumber was shattered by the shrieking of a large bird as it met with the draco mare beasts bobbing in the surf. He was dressed and out the door before the sound faded.

  Other Warriors emerged from their quarters and scanned the skies for the source of the sound but Thane pushed past them to get to the watchtower, climbing the ladder in a rush of hand over foot motions.

  Coming in from the South a wuju circled the coast shrieking at the draco mares below. The wuju was accompanied by a small fleet of ships flying the Losteroan flag.

  “Alert Prince Cygni,” Thane called down to the Warriors lingering at the base of the watchtower, “the Losteroan forces have arrived.”

  Chapter 21

  Cygni

  A cluster of ships dotted the southern coastline as Cygni’s council and the Perscesian queen plus her entourage reached the rocky bluffs. Each ship’s mast bore the Losteroan symbol of three trees in the kingdom’s colors. The wuju Cygni had sent his message with soared high in the sky, shrieking at the draco mares sunning themselves in the surf.

  An envoy from the ships danced over the waves in a skiff barely large enough to hold the men aboard. At the head of the vessel Cygni spotted the tell-tale bald head of his grandfather. He wanted to run to him, the great man his father had told him many a tale starring before he got too ill and Cygni too old but he knew he must let Dao come to him.

  Dao leapt from the skiff, his patched up boots hitting the sand hard. He didn’t wait for his entourage as he stalked up the rocky incline to meet Cygni and the others.

  Cygni swallowed hard, trying to hide the pride in his eyes as he laid eyes on his grandfather for the first time. The man was everything his father had told him and more. The loss of his daughter, Cygni’s mother, and th
e occupation and forced labor imposed by Lyra when she’d woven her spell around King Pavo’s heart had not withered the man before Cygni into a feeble old man. Instead it honed him into a sharp tool begging to be unleashed on the monster who had destroyed his life.

  “Your Highness,” Dao knelt before Cygni and bowed his head. A king without a kingdom bowing to a prince with a murdered father and a stolen throne.

  “Thank you for answering my call for help,” Cygni replied diplomatically.

  Dao snuck a glance at Queen Carina sitting cool and confident beside Cygni before turning his eye to his grandson. “My people have been waiting a long time to get vengeance for what has been taken from them.”

  “I am sorry for all that you have lost,” Cygni ducks his head respectfully to show his remorse.

  “It is our lot in life,” Dao smiles ruefully. “Zarouk made Shroudania and Vacantia stronger to teach Lostero humility. But it was Nalley who gave us patience and hope for a better future.”

  Queen Carina snorts quietly causing Cygni to shoot her a sharp glare. The Perscesian queen shrugs, “You must not fault me for disliking a God who turned all other beings against my people simply because his pride had been wounded. My people have been hunted and slaughtered since the beginning of time. This isn’t the first time my people have risen against injustice; we can only hope it will be the last. If victory against the usurper queen is the dawn of a more peaceful world I will gratefully fight beside any who heed the call.”

  “I could not have said it better, Your Majesty,” Dao shocks Cygni with his gentle words for the Perscesian queen.

  “I think you and I shall get along just fine,” Queen Carina graced Dao with a beautiful smile, the first genuine look of happiness Cygni had seen from the fierce ruler since their introduction.

  “Please, join us in the encampment,” Cygni gestured to the grounds behind him. “We will make room for your people to rest after your long journey. There is food aplenty as well.”

  “My grateful thanks,” Dao nods. “It has been a difficult journey. It has been an age since I traveled abroad during the rain season, I had forgotten how hard a sea voyage is during this part of the year.”

  “Have you had many losses?” To Cygni’s amazement, Carina climbs from her mount and touches Dao’s wrist compassionately.

  “Aye,” Dao sighs mournfully. “There was great sickness in the galleys as Faeta tossed our ships about. A third of our numbers were lost to the illness.”

  “Allow me to apologize on behalf of my kingdom,” Carina insists as she joins Dao in gathering his people ashore.

  Cygni glances nervously in Andromeda’s direction to get her take but the princess bites her bottom lip to stifle her laughter and shakes her head as bewildered as Cygni himself.

  At the shore shouts from Dao’s envoy begin to fill the air calling out orders to disembark and hailing the crews of each ship to unload their cargo and transport it to the encampment.

  ❖

  Octavia

  Octavia whooped with joy as Sturmfyre’s mighty wings caught the West wind and coasted through the air. She’d never felt so free as she did leading the Starborn fleet to the Warrior encampment. The wind whipped through her hair as she held tighter to Sturmfyre’s neck and nestled in to avoid being drenched by the ever present chill in the air and the pestering rain dripping upon her back.

  Fanned out in two diagonal lines behind her were the eleven riders in her sisterhood. Beyond even them, stretching as far back as the eye could see were the rest of the Starborn fleet divided into three equal groups that Imelda explained brought together a rider’s strengths. Each subsequent stormrider carried its’ rider and one of the foot soldiers who had no mounts of their own.

  Above the fleet, jumping from cloud to cloud like children playing hopscotch were The Three. Unlike the avian fleet they wore no armor, no fighting leathers. Octavia didn’t want to think about the power they could possess that would render them powerful enough to not even need physical weapons or bodily protection against their enemies. The way they moved and spoke as one tickled Octavia’s mind of the mention of a trio of minor goddesses spoken of in hushed reverence in the temple Octavia spent her formative years in.

  The encampment was coming nearer now, Octavia could see the watchtowers and the outline of the stone fortress becoming visible from above as she directed her stormrider to descend in its’ direction. Fires dotted what she could see of the training fields and to the southern coast Octavia could see the tell-tale masts of ships that from the skies looked like children’s toys. On the western coast, extending far out to sea were dark marks bobbing in the water. Though Octavia couldn’t make out their details she could be sure they were not ships, but something alive. Something the Vacantian people had never seen before. Something, that if it allied with the Warriors and the Starborn fleet and whoever else joined their cause, could tip the balance of the war against the usurper queen.

  Behind her, Octavia’s eleven began making a series of screams and clicks and hoots, a call to the rest of the fleet of their intention to land aground and a battlecry in the night to let their allies and any enemies lurking about know that they had arrived.

  ❖

  Octavia led the fleet past the watchtower and over the encampment toward the far training field. Her sisterhood and warriors landed as many of their stormriders as could comfortably bed down in the field while the rest spun thick downy clouds to nest on in the sky above.

  A man Octavia recognizes as Prince Cygni and Andromeda the Lost were waiting to greet her along with Castor, Cutter, and a few other Warriors. More faces surrounded her too, unfamiliar Landborn and Mistborn men and women alike.

  “Octavia,” Cutter steps forward to greet her. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Thanks,” Octavia grins widely at her friend. Turning to Prince Cygni she gestures to her fleet, “Your Majesty, I bring you an army.”

  “I can see that,” Cygni’s eyes count the warriors in the field and the thousands above hovering in the night sky. “Thank you for gathering your people, your aid will be a great asset in the coming war.”

  “Is there any news from the other side?” Octavia asks as she scans the crowd for Thane’s familiar face. “Has Lyra made any further moves against us?”

  “She has been focusing her energies on the Perscesians so far,” Cygni explains. “Andromeda’s true mother, Queen Carina has allied her people with us after witnessing firsthand the atrocities Lyra is capable of. But you and yours must be tired after your journey, we will discuss this and more in the morning. There is food aplenty and your cabin remains yours if you choose to reclaim it.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Octavia bows slightly before him. “My warriors will gladly eat whatever you have to offer but I will be staying with my fleet here in the training field.”

  “As you wish,” Cygni replies and gestures to Castor and Cutter, “make sure the Starborn fleet and their animals are fed for the evening.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Cutter bows and he and Castor disappear to retrieve food from the kitchens and stables.

  The waiting crowd disperses and Cygni tips his head wishing her a good night and an “until the morning,” before dissolving into the dark.

  Andromeda lingers a moment flanked by an inhumanly attractive male Octavia immediately identifies as Mistborn. They stare at each other for a heartbeat or two. Finally Andromeda breaks the silence, “I want to thank you. I know you and Cutter tried to stop what Garlyn did to me and that you went to get Thane from Vanyia that night.”

  Octavia notices the spiderwebbing scars spread across Andromeda’s face and tries not to stare, “Nobody should be tortured just because they’re different.” She says quietly.

  Andromeda’s eye sparkle in the dark and she clears her throat uncomfortably, “No, they should not.”

  Octavia averts her eyes and glances back at her sisterhood watching her questioningly as they set up camp for the night. Turning back to Androme
da she forces herself to ask, “Is Thane all right? I didn’t see him when I arrived.”

  Andromeda snorts, “You know Thane; stubborn as a mule. Hugo identified your fleet coming in and Thane cloistered himself in his quarters. He doesn’t think you want to see him.”

  “Damn fool,” Octavia mutters under her breath but unfortunately not low enough to miss Andromeda’s keen ears.

  Andromeda grins, “Most men are.”

  Darting forward Andromeda embraces Octavia briefly and murmurs, “Go get him,” before twirling around graceful on her feet and linking arms with the male waiting on her as they slink into the alley toward the women's quarters.

  Octavia checks in with her sisterhood and promises she will be back by the time the Warriors return with food then steels herself and marches toward Thane’s cabin.

  She reaches his door and knocks loudly before she looses her nerve.

  Ten-seconds pass, then twenty, and at nearly thirty Octavia is beginning to think Thane is purposefully ignoring her knock when he surprises her by yanking the door open.

  His long hair sticks out in wild tangles and his muscular chest is bare. Thane’s eyes glare down at her thunderously before they fully take focus on Octavia for the first time.

  Octavia doesn’t give him a chance to speak, she just throws her arms around his neck and raises herself onto her toes so she can align her lips against his. She kisses him roughly, pouring ten years of longing and frustration onto his lips.

  Thane seems startled at first, then his strong hands clamp down on her hips and drag her flush against him until there’s not a breath between them.

  Pulling back Octavia laughs shakily, her voice coming out huskily, “I missed you too, General.”

  Thane laughs low, his breath as ragged as her own as he grabs her wrist and tugs her inside.

  ❖

  Andromeda