Chapter 6 The Aftermath.
Chapter six
The Aftermath.
Adamantia Ardens
“Ithink we’re going to see another sunrise yet,” General Efstratios commented as he stood with his boot on the chest of a rebel, True North, I suspected.
Of course, my idiot niece would marry with such carrion.
Those of Ardens’ blood were opportunistic, ruthless, and power-hungry, all the necessary requirements of an Empress ─ excellent assets, assuming those who wield such qualities have more wisdom than a rooster.
Unfortunately for Ardens, there were far too many idiots in the mix.
The True North rebel faction had been the cause of minor skirmishes across formerly Vouna territory and bleeding into Ardens at large.
They were a nuisance, nothing more, at least that was what I and the councillors of Ardens had believed.
Now, they were showing their strength, their gall, and I would see to it that every True North rebel, every collaborator and sympathiser, anyone who so much as had the misfortune of doing business knowingly or unknowingly with these swine would face the same ending ─ an early death.
Efstratios knelt, took a grip of the handle of his dagger, and pulled the blade from the eye socket of the dead rebel.
“Dregs of the polis,” he continued and spat blood.
The battle had turned from explosions and gunfire to hand-to-hand combat. The flow of combatants had slowed to but a trickle. Efstratios had fired his last bullet what seemed like hours ago. We had both taken bloody hits. He turned to me, a grin revealing the new gaps in his smile.
“We will cleanse our House of this dirt,” I promised my general.
“Might need to knock it all down and build anew.”
I turned sharply at the sound of Sasha’s voice.
“My love?” I asked, delighted to see her, standing there among the rubble of the destroyed foyer, her hair tied back, dust and sweat streaking her face, clothing ripped and tattered, a mischievous smile brightening the gloom.
But my delight turned to concerned anxiety, as I remembered giving clear instructions for her to flee to House Petra.
“Why are you still here?” I questioned as I walked towards her.
“Percy is a runner,” she answered with a shrug.
Of course, Selene’s little witch was full of surprises. And how foolish it was of me to expect my witch of stone and hearth to abandon our home.
I met her and looked her over—a small cut above her eyebrow, beaded red.
I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and swiping the drop of blood away with my thumb and bringing it to my lips to taste.
Sasha was tangy, like ripe fruit, with a sweet, citrusy flavour — an explosion of sensation as violent and as alluring as any battle.
“Ada, now isn’t the time,” Sasha admonished softly, and the slight blush of her cheeks warmed me in a way that almost made me forget where I was and my previous preoccupation. She smiled wickedly, “You’re excused,” she continued.
I tilted my head in confusion, and it was then that I heard fighting behind me. Sasha had a way of consuming all my attention.
I turned just as another combatant rebel launched themselves at me. This one began to shift; the fabric of her cheap, grey uniform split and tore free from her body.
A button flew past me.
She had mistimed her shift, so young, so unaccustomed to warfare and bloodshed. I captured her in my grip, like plucking her from the air, and took her by the throat, but the bear claws of her half-shifted hand swiped at my face, narrowly slicing through the top layers of skin on my cheek.
I growled in rage.
“If that scars, I will gather everyone you ever cared for and slaughter them,” I told the half-shifted, half-naked woman, gasping and struggling for air in my grip while her claws tore at my forearm.
I slammed her into the ruined, splintered, destroyed, beyond-repair solid oak flooring of the foyer.
It had once been so pristine, I mused, as I slowly closed my fist. The act caved in her windpipe, my fingers pushing through, piercing flesh, and blood trickled between my fingers.
The shifter woman didn’t so much as gasp for air.
She couldn’t. Her yellow eyes dulled until they were empty, and no one was there to stare back at me.
Sasha approached me from behind and came to my side, ripping a section off from the bottom of her top to dab at my bloodied cheek.
“That better be the last of them!” Efstratios said as he threw his opponent’s limp body to the side, wiping blood from his lips.
“This is no time to dine.” I laughed.
He grinned his gapful grin.
“This is thirsty work,” he joked.
The crackle of a radio distracted us. We turned towards the harsh noise — a voice trying to break through the static.
“It’s not mine,” Efstratios informed, and he walked towards the source of the noise, crouching to roll over the body of a combatant.
The distorted voice grew louder, and Efstratios ripped the radio from the military-style vest of the body, twisting the dials until the voice became clear.
“Retreat. Repeat…Retreat, Retreat. All units, anyone left, retreat.”
Gunshots.
The voice stopped.
Another gummy grin from Efstratios, “Was victory ever really in doubt?” he asked, chucking the radio as he stood and rubbed dust and gore from his forearm.
“You thought it was the end?” Sasha asked me, nudging me with her shoulder, a slight tone of amusement in her voice.
“Never,” I lied with a smile, pleased I hadn’t lost any of my teeth.
“Mhh-hmm,” Sasha hummed, taking hold of my shirt, which was once a deep red but was now closer to the grey of the rubble and ash that surrounded us.
I allowed her to pull me closer, and I tilted her chin upwards so that I could kiss her.
Efstratios coughed behind us.
“Sorry,” Sasha laughed as I released her from our brief kiss. I wanted more of her taste.
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” he grinned, “But I suspect, despite the call to retreat from our enemies, that this battle is far from over.”
I nodded.
“I need to regain contact with The Ardens’ Guard. We need to cull the stragglers fleeing, or those still wishing for death, and assess the real damage to our men and the estate,” he continued.
“Lydia’s venom has afflicted Selene, and Percy is in the maze,” Sasha supplied hastily as if only just remembering.
“Selene? Lydia’s venom? How?” I questioned. Lydia was well, Lydia. She surely wasn’t capable of getting a bite on Selene.
“I’m more stuck on the maze,” Efstratios interjected.
“She went in of her own accord,” Sasha answered, and something about her was off — a lie? No. Guilt. “Don’t give me that look,” she warned me. “I didn’t suggest she go in alone,” Sasha defended.
I felt my eyebrows rise in surprise. Did my wife intend to enter the maze together with Percy?
Witches were known to be subversive, truly only loyal to their covens and sisterhood — Matriarchy at its finest. While men were capable of magic, it was often subdued. In witching lineage, there were no histories involving any prominent male coven members.
The maze was birthed from inter-coven magic; only inter-coven magic could theoretically control or destroy the maze.
Had Sasha planned to break the most sacred law among her witching kind to save her and Percy?
The guilty look she held was my answer.
“I’m not giving you any look or suggesting anything,” I told her, my suspicions very much confirmed.
“Yes, you were,” Sasha argued. “It’s not my fault. What fool enters the maze alone?”
“A little flower witch,” Efstratios answered, “Or anyone wanting to find their end.”
Sasha balked.
“The maze has been active. It took me too long to get back to you,” Sasha said, taking hold of my shirt again, “What if she’s dead already, Ada? Selene would never forgive me.”
I pulled her closer, wrapping her in my arms.
“Percy is Selene’s responsibility. The death of her pet would be upon her head. She would not hold such a tragedy against you,” I promised.
I wasn’t sure she wouldn’t burn and salt the earth of half the kingdom in revenge, but I knew that Sasha would not be deemed as a guilty party by our beloved niece.
“Ariadne, please guide young Percy,” Sasha whispered into the crook of my neck.
I breathed her scent in deeply. It was time to reclaim the estate, find my niece and stage a rescue mission into the maze.
“It’s going to be a long night,” I complained as I raised my head from her hair. “Efstratios, our priority is ensuring that Princess Selene is safe and secure,” I stated.
“Of course, Ma’am,” he agreed, “Lady Petra, where did you last encounter Her Royal Highness?” he asked.
Sasha released me from her hold. “She was still on the third floor. Paralysis was already beginning.”
“Who was with her?” he continued.
“Her guard and Rylan,” she answered.
I found it odd that she had referred to Selene’s captain of her Royal Guard by name and mentally noted to question her about when she became first-name friendly with the captain.
“How long ago?”
“About maybe an hour and a half. It was a fight to get here,” she explained.
He nodded.
“They can’t have gotten far, not with Her Royal Highness in such a condition. They will have found a comfortable and defensible location. Moving a victim of venom poisoning is too risky,” he replied, almost thinking aloud.
“Does she know that Percy is in the maze?” I asked.
“Yes, she was the one who told me,” Sasha said, a tiredness in her voice, dark circles under her eyes.
I noticed then that Sasha’s vision would be significantly worse than mine in the current lighting.
She must have been exhausted. I wanted nothing more than to find her somewhere to rest, but I doubted there would be any sleep, not for some time.
“Then she could be anywhere. Perhaps even in the maze by now,” I said.