Chapter 21
Saoirse and Callan agreed to stay behind with Everett to protect Adaryn. Jai resisted at first, not wanting to leave her side, but if he was to lead this country, he would have to set an example. He would not be like his uncle and cower in the castle while his people suffered. He tightened his grip on his longsword and followed the rest of the group out of the cemetery.
Smoke filled the sky, and screams rang out all across the city. They planned to start in the market’s outer rings and work their way in, hoping to remove whatever threat was placed on the city before too much damage was done.
The twins split off, hoping to cover more ground, and vowed to meet back at the cemetery. Jai led Soren, Enara, and Baz through the alleyways and side streets, stopping short halfway to Edras Mora’s outer walls.
A group of locals had barricaded themselves in a tavern, where a large, black creature was hacking away at the door. The thing had to be almost eight feet tall and looked to be the kestrels’ much scarier cousin. It had the same elongated face, with hollow pits for eyes, and the sound that escaped its mouth was a thing of nightmares. Instead of wings protruding from its back, two large appendages burst out from each of its shoulder blades. They were akin to a second set of arms, but the ends tapered into points resembling a scythe. It had elongated taloned feet, and their knees bent back at an awkward angle.
Jai hesitated for only a moment before running at the creature in an attempt to catch it off guard. Seconds before he slashed his sword, the monster shifted out of his blade’s path and swung out with one of its pointed arms. Jai turned just in time to block the blow but was thrown to the ground by the force.
Baz ran in, yelling, to take the attention off his fallen friend. “Hey! Ugly! Over here!” he shouted as he circled the creature.
The beast seemed to take offense to that comment and ran in Baztien’s direction.
Baz ducked as it swung at his head but was thrown back as the creature’s large fist connected with his chest. Baz coughed and wheezed as he tried to recover from the blow to his solar plexus.
Enara was about to join in, but Jai jumped between the creature and his friend, blocking the killing blow it had no doubt planned to land.
Jai had learned from his first attempt and managed to keep his footing. He twisted his sword away, throwing the beast off balance, and sliced into its thigh. Black blood spurted from the wound, and the creature let out a horrific screech that was something between the wail of a banshee and a man’s yell. It was truly unsettling.
Baz had gotten to his feet and stood next to Jai, readying himself for the next onslaught. The creature was now angry and came at them in full force.
They dodged and swung, trying to cause any damage they could. Baz bent backward at the waist just in time to watch a scythed arm swing overhead. He straightened and slashed out as the beast finished turning and sliced into its side.
It rounded on him, and Baz cringed under its hollowed gaze. It made to attack then stopped short as Jai’s blade cut through its body in one swift swing. The tracker had sliced the creature in half, having dragged his blade from in-between its legs and up through its skull. The beast’s body split in two in slow motion, like the fabric of a curtain being parted by a soft breeze, and fell to the ground with a thud.
“Nice one!” Baz said, smiling as Jai helped him to his feet. Both were covered in black blood, but neither were injured.
Their celebration was short-lived as the creature shifted behind them. Baz’s smile dropped into a frown, and Jai could not suppress his shock.
“That’s not possible.”
Amidst the puddle of ichor, the creature stirred. As the two halves of its body stood, they rippled and shifted. The appendages that protruded from their backs seemed to slide through their bodies and became their second arm and leg. Their skin seemed to soak up the ichor and rippled again, filling in their damaged skulls and healing their wounds. Each head was left lopsided with one black eye in the center, like two separate pieces of a monstrous puzzle.
“Well, that’s not good,” Baz said, turning to the rest of the group. “Get out of here!”
He could see the determination on Enara’s face as she replied, “I’m not leaving you!”
“Come on, Enara,” Soren said, pulling on her arm as Baz and Jai squared off with the black beasts.
“I won’t leave him,” she said through gritted teeth, wrenching her arm away.
Soren’s face softened as she spoke again. “They are some of the best fighters we know. They will be okay.”
Enara looked at her momentarily, considering her words.
“Look around,” Soren continued. “These people need us more than they do.”
Enara hesitated one moment longer as she looked at Baz and seemed to make a decision. Then she grabbed Soren’s hand, and they ran.
* * *
Within a few minutes,the girls had reached the outskirts of the city. Charred bits of rubble and bodies littered the streets. They slowed their pace as they came up to the city’s main gate. They pressed their backs against the stone as a few unfamiliar voices drifted from just outside the wall.
“Tabbris, report.”
Soren clapped her hand over her mouth to hide her surprise. She would recognize that voice anywhere.
General Corvus.
Her eyes widened as she looked at Enara, who motioned toward an empty doorway. They shuffled across the cobblestones and hunkered down under a shattered window.
“The castle has been blown asunder, sir,” a deep voice that Soren didn’t recognize replied.
“And the king?”
“The king has apparently gone to the after, according to some of the more open-lipped townsfolk. His brother was named steward. I confirmed his death myself, sir.”
“Well done, Sergeant. Gather the troops; we don’t have long before you must return to Anistera. Tell your men to enjoy the nectar while it lasts. Big things are coming.”
“Yes, sir.”
They heard a large flap of wings as Corvus departed and held their breaths as the sergeant marched down the path toward the inner city.
Enara peeked through the doorway after him. “I’m going to take him out,” she said as she made to stand, but Soren grabbed her arm.
“We will—together,” Soren told her. “I’m not going to let you have all the fun.”
“Together,” Enara said, sneaking out of the doorway.
A smile curled at Soren’s lips. “Let’s make these fuckers pay.”
* * *
“Maker, that stinks,”Baz said, fanning his hand in front of his nose.
“Fucker caught my arm,” Jai commented, peeling off his leather jacket that was now no more than shreds.
“Here.” Baz opened his pack, handing him a vial of the healing pool’s water.
Jai swallowed it quickly then swung his arm back and forth, testing it out. “Good as new. Thanks, brother,” he said, grimacing as the smell of burning flesh mixed with rot filled his nostrils. “Maker, you weren’t kidding.” He covered his face with his torn jacket.
“Well, at least we know fire works.” Baz kicked at a hunk of monster leg that was sizzling on the ground before him. It stuck to his boot, and he shook his foot violently until it splatted back onto the cobblestone.
“Thank you! Thank you!” A man wept as he ran toward them.
A group of people slowly filed out of the tavern, looking dazed.
“How can I ever repay you?” the man asked sincerely then paused. “Wait—do we know each other?”
“Jai Ashwood,” Jai said, holding out his hand.
The man took it, contemplating the name for a moment before realization struck. “You’re the man who they said killed the king. You’re supposed to be dead.”
The rest of the people who had been held up in the tavern slowly formed a circle around them, eyes narrowed.
“Is that true?” a teenage boy asked.
“It must be!” another cried. “The steward caught him in the act!”
“He killed the king!” a middle-aged man in a fine trader’s suit yelled.
“Let’s get him!” another person cried.
The crowd began to close in around them, and Baz and Jai shared a worried glance around. They did not want to harm these people.
“Please, allow me to explain,” Jai said, placing his sword down and beckoning Baz to do the same. “I did not kill the king,” Jai continued as the crowd grew closer. “Augustus framed me and Princess Adaryn to take the crown for himself.”
An older lady cackled at this. “And why would we believe you?” she sneered.
“Because, Agatha, he speaks the truth.”
The crowd turned to find Princess Adaryn flanked by Everett, Erick, Mrs. Ferndale, Callan, and Saoirse, along with a handful of royal guards.
“Well, if it isn’t the traitorous princess herself,” the lady crooned.
“That is Princess Regent to you,” Adaryn said, rising to her full height. “The steward was killed in the attack.”
The lady looked her up and down with dull blue eyes. Her graying hair was a mess of tangles tucked beneath her cloak. “How do we know you didn’t kill him, like you did your father?”
“Because I am not his daughter.”
The admission seemed to silence the rest of the crowd.
Adaryn pushed through the throng and placed her hand in Jai’s. “This man is the true heir to the Patrovian throne, and before any of you naysayers disagree, we have the evidence and witnesses to prove it,” she said, nodding to Mrs. Ferndale and one of the guards.
“It’s true,” Mrs. Ferndale began. “I delivered Jaideep as a babe, myself. His mother worked in the castle, and the king had a long-standing affair with her in the early years of his marriage to the queen.”
“I can confirm these remarks,” the guard said. “I was on duty the night Jai was born and the eve on which the king sealed his lineage papers.”
Agatha looked at them skeptically, as did the rest of the crowd. “And let me guess, these papers were destroyed in the attack on the castle.”
“We had them, I swear,” Baz interjected.
“Had?” the crone asked, lifting a brow.
“My father, the King of Braexmirth, has them now,” Callan replied for him. “Our forges are working to make weapons and armor as we speak.”
“You all don’t really believe this, do you?” Agatha asked, addressing the rest of the congregation.
The tavern owner bowed his head slightly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, looking at Jai. “Thank you for ridding us of that awful creature, but I remain loyal to our king, and a debt must be paid to honor his death.”
“Enough!” Adaryn’s raised voice split through the crowd. She then gestured to the guard. “Gareth, would you please show the crowd the papers?”
“He,” Agatha said contemptuously, pointing to Callan, “just said the papers are no longer at our disposal.”
“His copy, sure,” the guard said, pulling a roll of parchment from a tube on his hip. “The king was rather clever, you see. He made a third copy that only his most trusted were aware of, in case of his untimely death.”
The man held the scroll toward Agatha, who snatched it out of his hands greedily. She fingered the wax that could not be mistaken for anything but the king’s royal seal and cracked it, unfurling the parchment.
Her eyes roamed the page as she muttered under her breath. Then she lifted her gaze to the guard, flicked her eyes to Adaryn, and finally turned to Jai. It was obvious to him that she had a penchant for violence but was unable to fight the truth.
“What does it say?” the tavern owner asked.
The crowd waited with bated breath before she spoke.
“The scroll confirms their stories,” she spat angrily. “Jai Ashwood is indeed the king’s son and heir to the throne. However,” she said, taking a step toward Adaryn, her teeth glinting, “Adaryn is not the princess we all thought. It says here she was the daughter of a lowly stable maid, paraded around as a princess. She is no one.”
The woman’s face whipped sideways as Adaryn’s palm made perfect contact with her cheek.
“I don’t know what happened in your life to make you so hateful, but the next time you talk down to me, just remember that I am sleeping with your king-to-be.” Adaryn then turned on her heel, leaving the woman to ponder her life choices.
* * *
As Soren roundedthe final corner leading back to the city center, she flung an arm out to halt Enara from barreling forward. They had planned on dispatching the sergeant but wanted to get a better idea of how many enemies were still in the city.
“What is it?” Enara asked with Soren’s hand still pressed against her chest.
Soren peeked around the corner again to get a better look. “There are three more of them, and they aren’t alone. There are two kestrels with them, and another one of those horrible creatures Baz and Jai were fighting.”
“What are they doing?”
“It looks like they are rounding up stragglers,” Soren said then gasped. “I think they plan to execute them.”
“Let me see,” Enara said, pushing aside Soren’s hand to peek around the edge of the stone wall.
Soren had been right. The four men, if she could even call them that with their beautiful, inhuman skin, were lining up citizens and pushing them to their knees as the kestrels and their larger counterparts stalked back and forth in front of them.
“Where is Soren Nightsong?” the sergeant bellowed.
A chill creeped over Soren’s skin. They are looking for me.
He spat through his too-perfect teeth, “Speak!”
“We don’t know!” a man replied in an attempt at self-preservation.
“Then you are useless to me,” the sergeant sneered then nodded to one of the kestrels.
Before the man could defend himself, the creature thrust its taloned hand through his chest, causing a ripple of fear throughout the crowd. The man fell to the ground, sputtering, and bled out in seconds.
Soren had seen enough. Before she could talk herself out of it, she ran forward into the square. She couldn’t let any more people die on her account.
“I am Soren Nightsong,” she said, her voice sounding surer than she felt. “You have found me. Now let these people go.”
A cruel smile formed on strong features, and the sergeant’s green eyes shone in the late afternoon sun. The smoke from the explosions had dissipated, and the sun’s rays glinted like flames licking off the gold accents of the city’s walls.
The sergeant spoke then. “You have caused the commander much trouble, little girl.”
The comment stoked Soren’s temper, a spark igniting the fuse of her barely held together resolve. “Let them go,” she ordered through gritted teeth. “I will come with you if you leave them unharmed.”
“You are in no position to be barking orders, tiny human,” the sergeant sneered. His eyes then flicked behind her, and she turned to follow his gaze.
“Let go of me!” Enara shrieked at a kestrel that had its talons wrapped around her biceps. Soren hadn’t noticed that one of them was missing from the square, and her heart dropped into her stomach cavity.
“If you so much as scratch her, I will cut out your eyes and feed them to you,” Soren spat. Her anger boiled like a tea kettle, the steam rising, a pressure filling her chest that made her feel as though she would explode.
A laugh escaped from the sergeant’s mouth. He clearly was not taking her threat seriously, so she sought to silence him. She would not risk throwing one of her knives. If she missed, she could harm one of the bystanders.
She palmed two of the blades and gave them a spin, relishing the way they felt like an extension of her hands as she lunged for his throat.
The sudden attack took everyone by surprise, and Enara used it to her advantage. With the heel of her boot, she crushed the bones in the kestrel’s foot and turned to land three swift blows with her fists. It sickened her as the two blows to the creature’s chest sounded hollow, but she followed the jabs with an uppercut to avoid the sharp angles of its face. The beast fell back, flapping its wings angrily.
Enara reached for Coraxis, her bladed staff, which was still affixed to her back. She was thankful that the incompetent bird had not removed it and braced herself.
The kestrel flapped its raven wings, lifting itself a few feet off the ground, ready to attack. Enara tightened her grip, ready to impale the ungodly creature, but before it could bridge the gap between them, an arrow whistled past her temple and embedded itself into its head.
Enara turned to see where the arrow had originated and exhaled a sigh of relief when she saw Rook’s lithe form running across the rooftops. Then her breath caught when she saw Soren locked in combat with the sergeant. She ran to help her friend but was cut off by the kestrel’s larger companion.
She ducked as it swung two of its pointed arms above her head in an attempt to decapitate her, and then she ran. She did not doubt her fighting skills, but she was no idiot. I’ll lead it to the narrow streets where I can constrict its movement. Then I will strike.
Soren watched the beast trail after Enara through a small entryway just as the sergeant swung his blade at her feet. She jumped, narrowly avoiding losing her ankles, and slashed down with one of her daggers. She caught him across the side of the neck, and he hissed, taking a few steps back.
“You’ll pay for that!” he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth.
She smirked at him and wiped the blood from the dagger on her trousers. It had not been a killing blow, but it was a start. If he can bleed, he can die.
Their fight continued as his rage fueled him forward. He swung and hacked at her with his sword, but as quick as she was, he was overpowering her. His armor had few weak points, and she was struggling to fight back.
She cried out as his blade sliced into her calf, and she fell hard onto her tailbone. Blood seeped from the wound, surrounding her lower leg in a pool of crimson. She hobbled to her feet, knowing the end was near. She would not die cowering on the ground; she would go down swinging.
She gripped her daggers, her hands slick with blood, and lunged again. He dodged and landed an elbow to the back of her head, making her see stars. He was playing with her now, knowing the fight was won.
Her eyes cleared, and she turned again to face him, limping weakly on her uninjured leg. They had moved away from the crowd now and, in a last-ditch effort at survival, she threw both daggers in quick succession, both aimed for his head. He blocked one with his sword, and the second grazed the side of his temple, cutting off the tip of his ear. Soren watched as a tiny piece of his shaved hair floated to the ground.
He stalked toward her, eyes blazing, and placed the tip of his blade at the hollow of her throat. She would not give him the satisfaction of closing her eyes. Instead, she smiled up at him with a look of defiance and waited for the end, but it did not come.
The next thing Soren knew, she was covered head to toe in blood that was not her own, the sergeant’s body lying lifeless at her feet. The taste of iron coated her tongue, and she struggled to see through the red haze.
Her body sensed him before she could see him, muscles tensing in fear and excitement all at the same time. When her vision cleared, she met his eyes. The familiar icy stare warmed a little as she took him in. She knew how she must look—hair in tangles, bathed in blood as though she were a creature resurrected from the depths of hell. To her astonishment, a smirk played at the corners of his lips, and what Rook said next caused heat to pool low in her belly.
“I like you in red.”