Chapter 35
Thirty-Five
Aesira
The Aquila sliced through the red dust that encompassed Vargah as they docked in the Boneyard District. Aesira tightened her armor, straightening her chest plate, positioning her sword at her side.
Feverish air encompassed them as they stepped off the ship but it was nothing compared to the flood of distraught people screaming and shouting.
She leaned into Stone’s side to whisper in his ear. “Naming Day?”
“You’d think they’d be cheering.”
A woman’s toe snagged on Aesira’s boot, sending her to the ground. “Are you alright?” Aesira asked, helping her to her feet.
“Rebels,” the woman managed through a sob. “The rebels are here! They’ve come to take our water. Our astra!” Then she was gone, fleeing into the crowd.
“Rebels?” Stone turned to Aesira, pulling a knife from his boot. “There haven’t been rebels in Vargah in years.”
Her heart sped up, more shouting and frenzied screaming sounding in all directions. “I need to find my sister.”
Stone nodded. “I’ll go with you.” He turned to face Patch, Bee, and Birdie. “You three stay back. Keep the ship running. We’ll need a way out if rebels are truly here.”
“We’ll need food,” Bee said, “and water. We can’t make another trip without replenishing.”
“Try and find what you can but stay close,” Stone said.
Bee nodded then gripped Birdie’s hand and dashed through the Boneyard District.
“I'll stay with the Aquila,” Patch said.
Stone dropped his bag, his books. “If we’re not back by sundown, you’ll leave for the Isles. Do you understand?”
Reluctantly, Patch nodded before Stone turned to her. “Ready?”
Aesira waved Nora forward. “Let’s go.”
“I’m staying, Commander.” Nora looped her arm with Patch’s.
They’d both blurred the rules between knight and Odega the last few weeks. Choosing desire over duty. Want over sacrifice. But there was nothing blurred about this. This was clear, a sharp line in the sand, and Nora placed herself on the other side, leaving Aesira to choose.
Duty.
Desire.
Her eyes flicked to Stone’s. “We don’t have to go in there, Aesira,” he said.
“My sister is in there.”
“And so is mine.” Nora stepped forward, letting Patch and Stone fall back.
“This doesn’t have to be your fight. Doesn’t have to be our fight.
” She took Aesira’s hand. “Nev is smart, if the rebels are here she’ll get Kamari out.
When we’re safe, we can send word for them to meet us.
Think of everything you saw out there, Aesira. Think of what you know is true.”
Over Nora’s shoulder she could see Stone watching her, waiting to see what she’d do. If she’d cross the line. They’d seen the truth in Ravki. Seen the astra and the water and the life, but her sister was not on that side of the line.
“Rule number two,” Patch said, catching Nora’s arm and linking it with his own. “Never leave anyone behind, that goes for you as well now. Find the queen, we’ll stay here. Keep things ready just in case.”
“Thank you.” The words burned up her throat. They’d wait for her because she wasn’t just a knight overseeing them, she wasn’t someone they feared or hated or resented. She was their friend. They were her friends.
The line then didn’t seem so hard to cross. She’d tell Kamari everything they’d found. Tell her the truth about astra, about what Vargah might be hiding, then they’d flee. They’d sail to the Isles and figure out the rest. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”
“I’m still going.” Stone stepped to her side.
“No.” Aesira put a hand to his chest to stop him.
“I need to go alone.” She leaned close, pressing her lips to his ear and whispering so only he could hear.
“I will not be able to do my job well if I think you’re unsafe and what I might have to do in order to get to Kamari will not be pleasant.
” When she pulled away, his face was marred with a frown.
“Stay here, wait for me, if I’m not back by sundown promise you’ll leave as planned. ”
He tipped her chin up and kissed her and it was almost enough to convince her to stay. “As you wish, Commander.”
The looming spires of the Citadel blocked the sun, casting wickedly sharp shadows over the courtyard where even more people ran frantically.
Handmaids and servants darted past her, all flooding for the door. Some crying, most shouting. She worked her way through dozens of people shouting at each other until she broke free from the mayhem and made it to Kamari’s rooms.
Hanna was there, tears staining her cheeks. “Commander,” she said through a broken cry, wrapping her arms around Aesira’s middle.
“Hanna, where is Kamari?”
“She’s gone.” Hanna cupped a hand over her mouth. “She was the chosen sacrifice but the rebels came and she’s gone and there was nothing we could do. Nev tried, she tried to stop them but...” The rest of her words were drowned out by a sob.
Aesira’s entire world came crashing down, the walls of the room closing in. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Her knees gave out so she braced herself on the back of the chair.
You couldn’t save her just as you couldn’t save Eldrin.
“What do you mean she’s gone?”
“The rebels!” Hanna shouted. “They took her.”
“So she wasn’t sacrificed?”
Hanna shook her head. “No,” she said. “At least I don’t think so. Everything happened so quickly.”
“Start from the beginning.”
“Her name was called,” Hanna said, “but when she got to the dais, something happened. People dressed as sentries ambushed the stadium and then, Kamari disappeared.”
“But she isn’t dead?” Aesira ran to the window, following the sound of screams, then drew the curtains shut.
“I don’t know.” Hanna cradled her face in her hands.
“We have to go,” Aesira said. “If there are rebels here, it isn’t safe. I need to find the others. Nev. Rahashi.”
“But you don’t understand,” Hanna said through a sob, “they’re all gone.”
“Aesira?” A familiar voice called from the doorway, she spun around, her sword tethered in her palm.
“Mother?”
Of all the people Aesira wished to see, her parents were the least of them. “What are we doing in here?” she asked, glancing around the meeting room. “We need to be looking for Kamari.”
“Your sister is gone.” Her father’s voice was flat, emotionless.
“You don’t know that,” Aesira said. “Did you see her fall? Have the reservoirs been filled?” Her fingers twitched, eager to pull the blade from her side and fight her way through the crowd until she found the rebels. Found Kamari.
Her father shook his head, a thin smile spreading over his lips. “You had no right to leave Vargah.”
Aesira reared back in disbelief. “I was obeying the demands of my queen.”
He slammed his fist against the table. “And maybe if you were here, your queen would not be gone!"
His words landed like a stake through her heart. She had let Kamari down, just as she had let Eldrin down.
"You were being reckless!” He shook his crowned head, his Celestria pendant swinging from his neck. “Of all my children, you have always been so difficult to tame, Aesira. How is it that I have been left with no heirs except the one that I never wanted.” She shrunk back in her chair.
Years and years of her father’s scrutiny rushed to the surface, thickening her throat, burning her eyes. “You will do what your sister could not,” her father said. “You will marry Lord Raffe. Restore the treaty."
"You do not need astra to run Novaria," she spat. "You do not need this treaty other than for your own personal power."
Her father shook his head, the star pendant around his neck swaying.
"Piscis Spring is nearly dry," he said, eyes narrowing.
"If we do not keep this treaty in tact, if we do not gain water from Vargah, from Celestria, our kingdom will cease to exist." He took a step closer.
"You will listen to me. You will ensure this treaty remains, or the deaths of thousands will be on your hands. "
Aesira curled her lip. "And when Vargah realizes you've lied about the spring? When they see we have nothing to offer?"
"I suppose that will be your problem. Be an asset to your kingdom, to your family, for once in your life." His words were no different from the pain she’d endured in the Order, just as piercing, lashing against her skin until she was raw. The Order had done what he couldn’t, which was whittle her down to nothing, and rebuild her into the shape they desired–he desired.
Something useful. Sharp. All edges and teeth.
Only, she’d let herself slip the last few weeks. She’d let herself remember that she was a person before the Order. That she was human, capable of friendship, companionship. Empathy and love. She was more than just a weapon. More than just a spare.
More than her mistakes.
I don’t want you tame. Stone’s voice filled her, bolstered her.
Her sword slipped easily from its sheath as she stood.
I want you wild.
It sliced through the air, smooth and effortless, until the very tip pointed at her father’s heart.
I want you fierce.
She pressed her sword farther until the pop of fabric sounded. “I will be leaving to find Kamari.”
“Aesira, don’t.”
She dug the blade in, ignoring her mother, smiling as her father’s eyes grew wide, panicked. But isn’t this what he wanted her to be? Why he sent her away? To become sharp and emotionless and lethal.
I want you terrifying.
The sword dug through his doublet and how easy it would be to pierce his heart and make him bleed.
A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, collected on his heavy brow. “Please, Aesira.”
“You are a coward,” she said, lowering her sword.
“Your sister has failed us,” he said with a shaky voice.
“If the goddess is not pleased with a different sacrifice, she will not fill the wells. People will die of thirst. We’ll lose power to the cities.
We’ll be dried up before the storm season ends.
And for what? Because she insisted on finding that madman she claimed to love?
” He laughed, a bitter cold sound that pierced Aesira’s ears and she had a thought to cut out his tongue for good measure.
“You can spend your life on your knees, Father, praying to a goddess that does not hear you. Or you can be an asset to your kingdom, for once in your life.” She spun for the door and there was a sense of satisfaction that pumped through her veins.
That she was disobeying him. Disobeying the Order. Disobeying Celestria.
She would find Kamari and leave it all behind, cross the line, and never look back.
The door swung open and the satisfaction that drove her forward vanished. “General?”
The tall, thin woman who Aesira had only known to bring pain, discipline, order, stepped into the room like she owned it.
Shoulders back, chiseled face stoic and cold.
Her gray hair was tightly wrapped at the nape of her neck and the baton that Aesira knew too well hung from her hip.
“Commander Zeliath,” she said. “Sit. Down.”
Sweat collected on the back of her neck, her temples, the palms of her hands.
Pain, her body reminded her. The General means pain.
You’re not safe. “No,” she ground out. “I’m done.
” She sheathed her sword and unclasped her breastplate.
The first breath of air without it felt weightless.
Free. She tossed it to the General’s feet.
“I resign,” she said, stepping forward. “Let me through.”
The woman stood firm, her arms tightly positioned behind her back. “You have disobeyed your orders.” She took a step forward. “Your station.” She pulled the baton from her side, sliding it through her hands. “Do you think you’re the first knight to try and leave?”
Her father scoffed from behind her. "You have my full permission but I'll tell you, General, not even the cruelest of punishments seems to get through to her. Unbreakable, this one."
A smile spread over the General’s face, grim and thin and amused. “I know better than to try and break her,” she said, slipping the baton back into its holster on her hip. “Pain has never been enough.”
Aesira’s heart sped, racing frantically in her chest. She knew what came next.
Knew that if she didn’t leave right now, this would be it.
Her sword was out of its sheath and in her hands before she could blink but still, it was not fast enough.
The General was on her, one hand around her throat, and the other pressing something sharp and familiar into the side of her neck.
“You are a disease, Aesira,” the General said. “Infecting everyone you love."
Fight.
Fight.
That she could do.
She thrashed, clawing at the General’s face but then her arms were restrained, pulled behind her back by two sentries.
“I see not much has changed.” The needle pricked her skin, a drop of warmth running down her neck.
There was no way out. The medicine would enter her blood, render her unconscious and then she’d be done. Lost.
“Mom,” she said, finding her mother’s face through blurred vision. “Please don’t let them do this again.”
Maybe it was aimless to believe her mother would finally find her voice and help her children, but her hands were tied and she had nothing left to cling to but to hope that the one person meant to love her most would finally help her.
The last thing she remembered before the needle pressed into her skin was a single nod from her mother and a grin from her father and the General's voice. "Everything you touch, turns to rot."