Chapter 40
The woman stands tall and firm, not concerned with facing us, but focused solely on the raging crowd before her.
I glance over the edge of the platform as the woman slowly opens the letter.
The paper shakes in her grip, and she clears her throat to speak.
My mouth slightly parts, and I look toward Larkin. His eyes are as wide as mine.
“Malachi killed my daughter.”
The crowd grows quiet, giving the woman the chance to speak.
“Oh Gods,” I hear Aerona whisper from behind me, and the color leaves her face.
“Yara was an amazing young woman with so much life ahead of her, but she was not perfect—none of us are. Yara made decisions that put her in impossible situations, many of which you will never experience, and I hope it stays that way.” She clears her throat once more, fighting back the tears that are desperate to escape her grieving heart.
The crowd remains deathly quiet, also grieving her loss.
“When news of Yara’s passing reached me, I was angry, confused, and desperate for answers.
Warrick Pierce arrived at my house carrying Yara’s body and explained to me what happened.
He detailed how Malachi was to blame, and how Silas Nastronde, Briar Blackbyrne, and Larkin Spiridon risked their lives to save her, and when they were unsuccessful, they risked their lives to give her the final respects she deserved. ”
The crowd gasps, and I cut my eyes toward the cloaked figure I know shields Warrick. He defended us. Even when he was hurting, he made sure our names were cleared, and for that, I’m forever grateful.
“I didn’t believe him. In fact, I kicked him out of my house and refused to listen to anything else the man had to say. I regretted that decision when this showed up.”
The aged woman extends her hand, showing the crowd the trembling letter. Yara prepped for this, just like she did by leaving my note. She knew Malachi was going to kill her, so she did everything she could in the time she had left to warn and take care of the ones around her.
“Mother,
If you are reading this, please know that I love you.
However, I have left this realm to embark on a new adventure, one that we will someday have the pleasure of experiencing together.
But I can honestly say that my greatest honor is leaving this world trying to help those in need.
Briar Blackbyrne and Silas Nastronde need our help.
Even in peril, Briar promised me things: a better life, opportunities to grow, and more.
They, too, are facing an impossible task, and please know I died helping them because I believe in them and a better future.
If I can ask you for anything, please help them.
Please convince Andorwood to assist them. She is good. They are good, and they are trying to rid this world of the evil that haunts us all.
All my love,
Yara.”
The woman wipes the tears from her eyes while the crowd remains silent, watching in shock. I can only stare at her, feeling a growing hole in my heart that can never be healed.
With a weak voice, the woman speaks again. “I’m not asking you to trust them, but I am asking you to listen and give them the time Silas Nastronde requests. They aren’t speaking to us today to waste our time. Our time is limited, and without us—without our help—it’s even shorter than we think.”
A tear falls from my eyes, and I face the crowd, stepping forward.
“A ship sails toward us. I know that most of you have heard the rumors, and I regret to inform you that they are true,” I warn.
“Our time is as limited as this woman indicates. Calia Thornfield and Nolan Harte have resurrected the dead, transforming them into horrifying creatures, and they travel toward Andorwood to uncover forgotten information to aid in Carobon’s quest to rule over all the lands once more. ”
The crowd erupts in hushed chatter, their eyes wide, and they begin to fidget at the news.
“We are asking for help.” Silas steps beside me. “We are begging for help.”
I look toward him and reach for his hand as he continues.
“We seek your strength, power, resilience, and ability to come together as the forgotten—as the rebels of Andorwood. Andorwood will be known as a kingdom that unites through fighting, just as the rumors have echoed across this realm for centuries.”
The crowd stills, and a growing sense of pride explodes in my chest.
“This is a kingdom that will send a message: ‘never fucking mess with us.’ We will lead you.” Silas glances at me and back to the crowd. “We will guide you, and I swear to the Gods that I will protect you.”
I look to the crowd—their faces hard as stone, but the chatter has faded and the pulsing tension begins to ease.
Silas pauses, taking a breath. “But, I will not force you. This is your decision alone. In a few days, the ship will arrive, and we will be there, ready to fight. I hope you all will choose to do the same.”
Slight nods of approval begin to appear among the crowd of rebels in front of us, and no one speaks, rejects, or tries to argue.
Concerned expressions flash across the faces of the civilians, and the silence is deafening.
Without waiting to hear anything further, I leap down from the platform, leaving Silas to speak with his family, and stand before the woman who changed everything for us—just like Yara.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“That was for my daughter,” the woman replies. “She asked that of me, and as her mother, I would do anything for her.”
“Just like Yara, you’ve changed everything.” I smile.
The woman extends her hand. Her dark eyes sparkle like black diamonds, and her face is beautiful, yet harbors a sadness I have unfortunately known many times before. The woman’s skin is smooth, yet shows signs of graceful aging.
“I’m Pia Herst, Yara’s mother. I helped heal your friend, Maines.”
My mouth falls open, and my stomach flips.
The woman in the room refused to turn fully to me. She knew who we were and what had happened to us. Even in the midst of her own grief and hurt, she helped save Maines.
Without thinking, I wrap both arms around the woman, and I feel her shock from my touch, but she returns the embrace.
“Thank you,” I say, pulling back. “I see now where Yara got her heart. You have done more than I can ever repay.”
Two men walk up behind me and remove their hoods. Larkin and Warrick stand around us while Pia glances at both of them.
Warrick speaks, “Good afternoon, Mrs. Herst.”
“Hello, boys,” Pia says. “It’s nice to see you, Warrick.”
He smiles. “You as well.”
She returns her gaze to mine and offers me a soft smile. Her face is so similar to Yara’s that I can’t help but feel sadness, knowing that in years to come, Yara’s face would have looked the same—beautiful, aged, and soft.
“When the ship arrives, if you would like to seek shelter in Silas’s house, you are welcome,” I offer.
“I have been asked to assist with healing the wounded near the pier. I will do what I have been asked, and I will fight. Even if I am the only civilian who shows up, I will be there. Yara would have done the same,” she replies, sternly.
I know there is no arguing with her.
“Very well.” I smile. “I will be happy to fight alongside you, and I will feel safe knowing that you are there, healing.”
Pia points to the axes on my back. “I would love to have a weapon like that,” she says with a wink. “Just in case.”
I chuckle, softly. “I’ll see what I can do for you.”
“Thank you,” she replies. “I am heading back to the king’s cliff house momentarily. I came to town only to gather a few more supplies for your friend’s healing. She is lucky, Your Majesty. She has many months ahead of her for healing, but with my help, she will be just fine.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask.
She shakes her head and turns away to take her leave. “Just fight like hell. We need you to win this war.”
“We will.”
She smiles, and Warrick steps forward. “Would you like me to walk you home?”
Pia shakes her head. “That’s okay, boy. I can make it on my own.”
Warrick dips his head in respect.
“Please be careful,” Pia says.
“Always,” Warrick responds.
The woman moves gracefully through the crowd, and they don’t hesitate to part for her.
The civilians treat her with respect, and I can tell that she has been a long-time advocate for them.
They trust her, and they listen to her words.
Without her, I fear this would have gone terribly wrong.
Some of the crowd stay in tight circles, likely deciding what they will do, while others return to their daily chores.
I glance toward the dark alleyways, and tucked beneath the shadows, the prominent, cloaked figures remain.
Larkin moves closer. “You okay?”
I nod. “I’m okay now that things have died down. We owe a lot to Yara and Pia.”
“We will repay her one day.”
I angle my head toward the shadowed alleyways, trying not to be too obvious about whom I’m speaking about.
“Who are they?”
Warrick and Larkin merely cast their eyes toward the darkness that the sun seems to overlook. The fog continues to spill out of the alleyway, as if the shadows are so thick that they have nowhere else to go but billow out.
“Did you think the rebels and criminals were referred to figuratively?” Larkin asks.
I shrug. “I thought it was more of a group name for Andorwood.”
Warrick laughs, and I turn my head sharply in his direction.
“Those are the ones we speak of,” Warrick says. “They keep to themselves, hide in the shadows, and to our knowledge, they are an army in themselves.”
“Did Malachi know about them? How were they not punished?” I ask.
“Of course, he knew, but not even Malachi could figure out their plans. It’s hard to find someone who is rarely seen,” Larkin whispers.
“Will they fight with us?” I ask.
“I doubt it,” Larkin replies. “But, they’ve been eager for Silas to join them for years. He would never risk it with Malachi around.”