4
“Assyria,”
a voice hissed, and I groaned, awareness coming to me in small sips. Ache was the first item to capture my attention, followed by something wet pressing against my face.
“Assyria,”
the voice said again, this time louder and more insistent. I blinked, the world coming into focus slowly as sleep still sunk its claws into me. Olrus stood beside my bed, and the moisture against my face was from a lovely puddle of drool on my feather pillow. When I raised my hand to wipe my eyes, there was only a slight twinge in my ribs. Thank the Giver for Demon’s ability to heal quickly. That didn’t stop the protest in my muscles when I sat upright.
“Did you stay up all night?”
I asked, voice thick and groggy.
“Had to make sure you woke up on time,”
the old Demon shrugged. “There’s food in the kitchen.”
I yawned, and Olrus departed. Swinging my legs over the edge of the mattress, I dangled them for a moment as I braced myself for what I would have to do. When my feet hit the carpet, I allowed myself a moment to wiggle my toes in the plush fabric. What waited for me beyond Stryi was a mystery, though not one that filled me with apprehension. More than anything, excitement flowed through my veins, and it was that emotion that propelled me toward Vagach’s dresser, where I pulled out clothing to wear that day. Beside it, a pack waited for me to heft it and carry along on my adventure.
Once I’d donned my dead husband’s clothes, I closed my eyes and tapped into the well of shadows in my chest, weaving them until I’d formed his body over mine. It was always an odd sensation, like I was wearing clothes far too large for me, and yet I still saw through his eyes. The world was different when I was several inches taller.
By the time I strolled into the kitchen, Olrus was already seated at the table and slathering butter on browned bread. Across from him, an identical plate waited for me. He picked his head up when he noticed my entrance, nearly jumping out of his seat before remembering my power. “You look exactly like him.”
“And hopefully I can act enough like him that no one will notice the difference,”
I said, the chair scraping as I dragged it back and settled on it. It creaked under my new weight.
“How exactly does your power work?”
Olrus asked before taking a bite of the bread.
I lifted a fork and speared into the eggs on my plate. “I can embody anyone, though people I am less familiar with are difficult. As long as I can get a clear picture in my mind, I am able to become whomever I want.”
“And obviously your voice matches theirs too,”
Olrus observed.
I nodded. “But I am still me, on the inside. I don’t become them, if that makes sense.”
“It does.”
A forkful of eggs entered our mouths and we chewed, appreciating our last few moments together.
Olrus swallowed and sipped from a glass of orange juice. “How long can you hold it?”
I shrugged, using my hand to cover my mouth while I spoke. “The most I’ve ever tried is a few hours. Guess we will find out.”
Olrus’s brows pinched, deepening the permanent wrinkle in his skin there. “I don’t like that. They’ll kill you if they find out you’ve been impersonating a Kormánzó, or turn you into a fallen female. Or worse, they’ll exploit your magic and turn you into an assassin.”
I laughed, having to use a glass of the freshly squeezed juice to force my food down. “What an adventure that would be, don’t you think, Olrus?”
A sparkle returned to his eyes. “An adventure indeed. Who knows where they would send you and who they would want you to kill.”
He sobered at the reminder of the previous day’s events.
“What will you do? If I never return?”
I asked, trying not to think about the risks that would come with being discovered—though turning into an assassin held a certain allure I couldn’t deny. It was definitely a much different life than the one I had been born into some two hundred and twenty-four years prior.
“I spent much time thinking last night while I waited to wake you. I will tell Priestess Anara that I came to the manor and found it empty.”
Olrus set his fork on his plate, then leveled a serious gaze at me. “After a few weeks of your being gone, word will be sent to Vagach, at which point, he,”
Olrus raked his gaze over my new form pointedly, “will be most upset that his wife has vanished without a trace. Vagach will tell me to continue tending to the estate in his absence.”
Chewing slowly, I digested his words, agreeing with the logic. “And if I should desert the army and try to lead a life for myself?”
“Then a new Kormánzó will be chosen by the Kral since Vagach has no heirs,”
Orlus stated, picking up his fork and shoveling another mouthful of eggs. He swallowed them down with a sip from his glass. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself. You are still so young and have so much ahead of you. Forget about us old Demons in this small, insignificant village. With power like yours, go be someone important.”
The last of my food disappeared into my mouth, and I allowed my magic to drop away momentarily, so Olrus could see the sincerity of my gratitude coming from me, Assyria. Reaching across the table, I covered his hand with mine and squeezed. “I will become someone, Olrus, I promise. My life will be worth living because I make it so. Thank you for giving me this fresh start, for helping me free myself from this depressing life.”
His cardinal eyes glistened, and his chin wobbled as he beheld me. “It’s time for you to go.”
“I know,”
I whispered, drawing back. The chair scraped as I rose, and within moments, I’d crafted Vagach’s form around me once more. When I opened my eyes, Olrus had retrieved the pack laden with clothes, coin, and other items Olrus insisted I needed. Tucked safely away in the coin pouch was my mother’s ring as well. I couldn’t leave it behind, not when it was all I had left of her.
“Let me help you with this,”
he said, and I raised my arms, allowing him to slide the straps over my shoulders. The weight was unfamiliar, heavy, and slightly annoying, but I’d need to become accustomed to it sooner rather than later.
Olrus walked with me to the front door, unlocking it but not opening it. I paused, taking one last moment in this house that had felt more like a prison than a home since my arrival.
To think, I will be free of it within a few moments.
Olrus opened his arms, and I walked straight into them, memorizing his citrusy smell and drinking in the fatherly love that emanated from his pores. Tears burned my eyes and the back of my nose, and I sniffed, trying to smother the sob that wanted to break free. I was so tired of saying goodbye to the people I loved. At least Olrus wasn’t dying, though this would likely be the last time I’d ever see the old Demon. “Take care of yourself,”
I whispered through the knot in my throat.
“Stay safe, stay alive, and may your thread hold strong,”
Olrus offered, unashamedly shedding a tear as we broke our embrace.
Then, he grasped the knob and turned, revealing the first rays of dawn and the first moments of my new life.
The center of Stryi overflowed with males boasting full packs and grim expressions. Still more hefted crates and burlap sacks into wooden wagons, filling them to the brim and causing the body to sink deeper onto the wheels from the weight. Corralling them were the soldiers I had seen yesterday, dressed in their leather uniforms, while the leader with the metal armor stood off to one side, surveying the scene.
“Vagach!”
he called out to me, and I strode in his direction, nerves shaking my hands as my mind raced with possibilities.
Would I be caught out before we even left the village?
I gripped the leather straps in an attempt to steady them.
Fates, I don’t even know the officer’s name.
Vagach would surely have known, and I’d look like a fool for not. “Morning,”
I offered by way of greeting, kicking myself for how breezy and friendly the word slipped out. Vagach had neither of those qualities.
But would the male know that?
From what I had observed the previous day, Vagach and this officer hadn’t seemed familiar, and the interaction I had witnessed was entirely formal. The villagers, however, would recall Vagach’s temperament, which meant they posed more of a threat. My thoughts swirled with anxiety, causing me to miss the question the metal-clad male asked me.
“Sorry, my mind was elsewhere,”
I apologized, hoping that he would repeat himself.
He offered a salacious grin, his cherry eyes sparkling with amusement. “No doubt on your wife,”
he chuckled. “I stated that–”
“Százados Jaku,”
a leather-clad male interrupted from my right, drawing both our attention. He stood, hands folded behind his lower back while waiting to be addressed. The male’s hair was cropped close to his scalp, and his cherry eyes held a hint of jovialness despite the seriousness of the current situation. Underestimating his abilities as a soldier would have been a mistake, as his arms were thick and bulged out of his sleeveless tunic.
“Yes, Dromak?”
Százados Jaku responded, his tone almost bored.
“All the recruits have arrived, sir. We are ready to depart.”
Dromak lifted his fist to his forehead and stamped his foot before turning on his heel and striding toward the gathered group.
Százados Jaku—thank you Dromak for offering his name—regarded me again. “As I was about to say before we were interrupted, you’ll receive an officer’s rank since you are head of a noble house. Today, you’ll march at the front with me.”
“We’re not flying?”
I questioned. All Demons possessed the ability to conjure membranous, black wings using their magic. It was far faster than riding horses, though I hadn’t flown in months, if not years.
Jaku’s eyes narrowed on me. I resisted the urge to squirm. “No, because not everyone has the power to keep up. Those with cardinal and crimson eyes wouldn’t be able to fly half a day, and they need to save their magic and their energy for the battles ahead.”
“Right, of course,”
I stammered. Then, mimicking what I saw Vagach do the previous day, I knelt, resting my forehead on my arm. “It is an honor to serve under you, Százados Jaku.”
“Rise,”
he commanded, and I did. “And when we’re not in front of the recruits, you may call me Jaku. No need for formalities when technically you rank above me in society. Though you will be under my command.”
“Understood,”
I replied, falling into step with him as several of the leather-clad males, including Dromak, shouted directions at the hundred or so gathered villagers. Horses waited at one end of the square, some stomping their feet as if their insistence on getting moving would hurry along the mass of Demons preparing to march off to war.
Jaku strode to the one in the center, a muscled beast with a rich chestnut color whose eyes held a hint of wildness. The stallion pawed at the ground even as Jaku dug his foot into the stirrup and threw his leg over the mount’s back. With a start, I realized the horse beside him used to belong to my family. Vagach had insisted on selling him after they died, and without stables on the estate or a field to work, Blaeze would have been miserable.
Withholding my affection was difficult as I attached my pack to the rear of the saddle, fumbling with the unfamiliar straps. I glanced at those around me for guidance before making a few adjustments. When I finally mounted him, a sense of peace washed over me. At least I had something good from my old life to bring with me into the new one. As casually as I could, I stroked his mane.
Unbidden, a memory of my sister rose. The first time she’d vaulted onto Blaeze’s back, she’d flown right over, having missed her grip on his mane. She landed in a pile of hay, and we’d both laughed until we cried.
The back of my nostrils burned at the memory, and I forced myself to smother the sorrow that the Reaper claimed her far too soon. One of the males eyed me, and I quickly smothered my emotions and switched into impersonating Vagach. “You know, this horse once belonged to my wife’s family,”
I offered Jaku in my haughtiest tone. Vagach was a braggart, endlessly talking about himself and his impressive accomplishments.
“Interesting.”
Jaku clicked his tongue. His stallion shot forward, prancing as he pulled up on the reins. Beside me, the Demons that had been shouting orders were settling in for the ride and nudging their horses to follow the Százados.
“Listen up!”
he shouted, letting his horse sidestep toward the main road that led away from the Stryi. “We’re going to march until mid-afternoon in an attempt to rejoin a larger force within the next few weeks. I don’t want to hear any complaining about tired feet or aching backs. You are soldiers now, and I expect you to act like it.”
“Yes, sir.”
The reply was disjointed, and only those already clad in leather armor sounded enthusiastic.
Hoofbeats filled the air a moment later as Jaku took off, and the others followed him. Spurring Blaeze forward, I trotted toward the front, keeping my nose in the air as I passed familiar faces marching in the dust left in the horses’ wake. Vagach was aloof with the villagers at the best of times, and offering them kind words of encouragement was not in his nature.
As we rode past the wild bushes of the estate, I tried my best not to gaze longingly through them in hopes of seeing Olrus. But my glances must not have been as surreptitious as I had hoped, for one of the leather-clad males of equal rank with Dromak angled his horse toward mine.
“Missing your wife already?”
he asked, and I startled, recognizing the male who had led the soldiers on the chase through the streets after me the previous day.
How far did Soli spread the information Olrus offered her?
Plastering my face with a snobbish, prideful expression, I replied, “I had hoped that she would be with child by now. It would be a shame for my noble house to die out.”
I hated that I had to say that because it was the exact opposite of what I wanted for my life.
The male regarded me with an intensity I was unaccustomed to, as if he were trying to work something out in his head. I smothered the disarming grin I would have normally offered as a female.
Finally, he introduced himself. “I’m Izgath.”
“Vagach,”
I said, not bothering to remove my nose from its lofty place in the air.
“I know,”
he replied, offering me a momentary reprieve from his assessing gaze as another one of his comrades joined us. Glancing over my shoulder, I took in the trail of recruits, eyes lingering on the handful of riders at the rear. These soldiers weren’t leaving desertions to chance with the way they penned in the group of recruits.
“Izgath, why is your–our–company so small?”
“This is only a fraction of our battalion.”
Jaku emphasized the last word, and I cursed myself for not knowing the proper military terminology. His eyes narrowed slightly, causing the scar that slashed the left side of his face to wrinkle. “The other squads have spread out across the southern region in an attempt to recruit and return to the front faster. We will rejoin some of them in a week or two, and the rest outside of Uzhhorod.”
Izgath nodded, scrutinizing me similarly. A knot twisted in my gut. Did they know already that I wasn’t who I said I was?
“Jaku is the Százados of the Lovak Squad, but Parancsok Olet sent other Százados and Vezet?, others like myself and Uzadaan here,”
he jerked his head toward the ruby-eyed Demon riding beside him, “to the vidék beyond yours, since they are smaller. Other parts of the army remain on the battlefield or in the capital,”
Izgath explained.
To the east, there were two other vidék, and those Kormánzó, like Vagach, spent most of their time in their villages. Our pastoral life in the south didn’t interest any of the higher ranked nobles like the Nayúr beyond how many crops we could spare to send north. They preferred to remain in the capital and reap the benefits our hard work afforded them.
The middle part of the Demon Realm was arid, with little rainfall due to the high altitude of the Skala Mountains that divided the continent in two. Opposite the wall that ran along those high peaks, that part of the Angel Realm wanted for nothing, with lush, green forests dripping with exotic fruit. My favorite roses hailed from there, and I hoped that Olrus would revive them.
They deserved to flourish, like me.
Jaku turned in his saddle, and I immediately straightened, not wanting to give any further impression that I might not be Vagach. “Are we close enough to the Graz here to march alongside it toward the mountains?”
The Graz River was the division of the Angel and Demon Realms in the south, its expanse so thick and wide that no one dared cross it. I’d been to its shores a handful of times, and the icy spray that drifted off it as it pounded against the jagged rocks piercing its surface was enough to make me shiver then, even under the heat of the rising sun.
“We are. If we turn along that path,”
I pointed ahead to a small cut into a copse of trees that lead west, “we should reach it within two hours.”
It was our proximity to the river that gave life to the crops grown on the open plains of the south. “There are also some offshoots within the woods where the recruits can stop to fill their waterskins and for the horses to safely drink.”
I wasn’t certain any of these males had been this far south and understood the dangers the river posed. A dividing wall with the Angel Realm here was unnecessary when the river offered a natural deterrent for crossing into the other’s sovereign territory.
“We will rely on your expertise to guide us in the right direction, Vagach,”
Jaku said before turning around and pulling a skin from the front of his saddle. Around me, the others did the same, and I mimicked them, certain that whatever these experienced males did was likely in my best interest.
But if they wanted me to guide them further than a few day’s ride north, I had no hope of maintaining the pretense that I was indeed Vagach. Dread settled in my gut along with the water.
What was I thinking, running off to war and pretending to be my dead husband?
By the time we stopped that evening to make camp, my magic was waning. The copious amounts of water I sipped throughout the day did nothing to ease the sweating that came from the summer heat or my exertion. Thankfully, Vagach’s overindulgence gave me an easy excuse for the excess. I’d convinced Jaku and the others to ride along the road adjacent to the river, with the Skala Mountains looming ahead, massive despite the weeks of riding it would take to reach them.
Weeks I wasn’t sure I was capable of maintaining the facade, not when the shadows in my chest barely stirred as I called on them to help me erect a tent. The supply wagons were a hive of activity as more and more temporary abodes were passed around. A chunk of the village recruits would be forced to sleep under the stars. A twinge of guilt swept through me, but Vagach wouldn’t care, so I said nothing. They unfurled blankets against the grassy earth and settled their packs which were placed at the head, providing at least some comfort.
The moment our dinner of gamey stew and bread was finished, I excused myself and nearly ran to my tent. Moments after securing the canvas flap, I collapsed, my magic falling away and leaving me swimming in Vagach’s clothes. I had no energy left to move from my position on the ground, and I barely managed to crawl to the cot and kick off my boots and pants. A groan—too loud and too feminine—filled the space as I reclined against the hard pillow. My entire being ached, and the shadows in my chest were nearly translucent from overuse.
I needed sleep to recover, because the following day would require as much magic to maintain my ruse. And the next day, and the next, and the day after that too.
Weaver, how am I supposed to do this?
Doubt crept in, along with hushed voices and a gentle breeze. The peak of the canvas overhead grew fuzzy while my eyelids grew heavy, and it wasn’t long until I surrendered to sleep.