“There’s going to be a war between the kingdoms,” I explained. “Dystalphi wants to conquer Crea. We were on our way to Trella for an alliance. If Dystalphi gets there before us, we’re done. Trella and Dystalphi have the strongest defense.”
Cyprian coughed, hitting his fist against his chest a couple of times. “An alliance? With Trella?” He laughed loudly. “Do you understand what you’re saying? In all of history, and I know this better than anyone, Trella has sworn never to take part in the other kingdoms’ problems.”
“They must have a reason,” I persisted. “We need them, now more than ever.”
“A war, huh.” Cyprian rubbed his chin, in deep thought. “It seems as if everything is finally coming true.”
“What are you talking about?” I furrowed my eyebrows. “What’s coming true?”
“Ah, Cap’n,” Gat said, getting to his feet. “I’m going to get some rest. Your stories never end, do they?”
Cyprian gave him a knowing smile. “Please show the rest of them where they’ll be resting.”
“But Cyprian—”
The pirate prince got to his feet. “That is a story for another time, my dear Adalia.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Cyprian had already disappeared.
Twelve.
“It’s strange huh, how much people change?” Isabel hummed in agreement. “Wake up,” I tapped her. “You can’t sleep the whole day.” She turned on her back, facing me. Isabel blinked her blue eyes, frowning.
“I’ve been seasick, punched, attacked, and was almost killed saving my brother twice in the past twelve days. Now I have a bed because it turns out, you and their ‘Cap’n’ had a thing seven years ago. So forgive me if I do want to at least try to sleep the whole day.” She rolled onto her side again. I flicked her ear.
“We did not have a thing,” I argued. “I was thirteen. He
Was four years older than me.”
“You’re acting as if that’s a big difference. And it doesn’t seem to matter now, does it?”
“Alright, go to sleep. I’m taking a walk.” I got to my feet, walking towards the door of the small wooden shelter.
“That’s right. Go to your Cap’n,” Isabel giggled through layers of sheets.
“I thought you were going to sleep,” I shot. “Shut up.”
I found Cyprian standing on the edge of the cliff.
“You’re awake,” he greeted with a smile. The wind blew, fluffing up wisps of his hair. I stood next to him in silence for a while.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said.”
“Which part?”
I turned to him. “The part where you said Trella wouldn’t ally with us no matter what. What if you came with us?”
Cyprian seemed to choke again, coughing until his throat cleared up.
“I’d never do that.”
“Not even for a day? Just to convince the king and queen?”
“Maybe if you asked Valentin to help you once you get there, they’d listen,” Cyprian suggested, looping his fingers in his belt as he stood on the balls of his feet.
He wore leather boots, a simple tunic with a vest over it, brown leather pants, and a matching hat.
“Even if I came back from the dead, they wouldn’t listen to me. And then they’d just lock me inside forever, and then I’d lose all of this.” He swept his arm across the view of his island.
“Cyprian . . .”
“Adalia, I would love to but I can’t. Trust me—it won’t
make a difference.”
I sighed, frustrated.
“Then I’m at a loss. We came this far for nothing?”
“On behalf of my men, I apologize for pillaging your ships. I could pay you back by guaranteeing safe passage from Crea to Trella until this war is over. We’ll stay out of your way.”
I let out a sigh. “We’ll be out of your hair tomorrow,” I said.
“That fast? What for?”
“Dystalphi’s forces are probably on their way to Crea already.” I peered down at the black sand. “Before, what you were telling me about ‘everything coming true’ . . . what did you mean?”
“Augustus can explain that to you. It’s just a legend, anyway.” Cyprian turned. “It’s getting cold. Let’s head in.”
“Augustus? The old man that took you in? I thought he died.”
Cyprian raised his eyebrows in alarm. “Why would you kill him already? You haven’t even met him yet!”
“You spoke of him as if he were dead,” I blushed, and Cyprian laughed.
“Follow my finger,” Cyprian said, leaning forward. “Do you see that mountain? Right near the center of the island?”
I nodded, wondering what possible significance it could have. “That mountain is a volcano. When it first erupted, it created this island. The second time it exploded,” he said, leaning closer, “right before man was created. And the third time . . .” His eye glinted with mischief, “some say that when it erupted the third time, Augustus witnessed it with his own eyes from a ship as he sailed towards it. So, you can see how old he is.”
“I don’t believe you,” I scoffed.
“It’s a myth. That volcano has been dormant since the beginning of time,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t believe it either. My point is, Augustus is extremely old, but he’s alive. Come on,” he motioned for me to follow him as he stepped back. “Let me introduce you.”
TWENTY
Augustus was a tall, thin man. He looked older than I’d imagined, and was, ironically, missing half of his left leg from the knee down. He sat on a chair that resembled a throne, with a pipe between his lips, and a long red beard hanging from his chin. The pirate wore a large, pitch-black hat on his head, a blood red feather jutting out from the side. His right eye was green, but the left one was grayish; discolored. The green eye swiveled to me.
“Who’s this?” Augustus’s voice was gravelly and deep.
“Adalia,” Cyprian introduced me, hands clasped behind his back. Augustus looked me up and down with his good eye.
“Is she here to stay?”
“No,” Cyprian shook his head. “I’m afraid not. They were on their way to Trella.”
“And ya decided to help her ‘cause she was a friend?” Augustus asked. He reached to his left, grabbing a long wooden stick shaped like a leg. He fitted it in the spot of his missing limb, and got to his feet, covering his body with a long velvet cloak.
“Yes, sir.”
“Their ship has been pillaged and destroyed,” Augustus said slowly, taking his time.
“How will they return?”
I groaned internally. I should’ve known. These were pirates. They weren’t about to give us supplies and send us off.
“We have no reason to let ‘em go,” Augustus said. He pointed at me. “We can exchange the assassin for gold in Dystalphi, don’t ya think?”
“I’ll send you as much as you need if you let us go. The princess of Crea is very generous,” I quickly put in. “It’ll be a reward for helping us.”
Augustus laughed humorlessly. “We don’t need anythin’ from ya. We do our work ourselves.”
“Captain—”
“Silence,” Augustus raised his hand. “We only need one thing, and that thing is from Trella itself. Which is why I have a reason to let you go.”
“What might you need?” I asked. He didn’t want gold. Ships, then? People?
“There’s something we’ve been lookin’ for,” Augustus explained, still as stone. It holds the rest of a prophecy we own, something our ancestors left us hundreds of years ago.”
“A prophecy for what?” I pressed. “I’ll have to know what I’m looking for.”
“Take a seat,” Augustus gestured towards a round table, chairs set up around it. I sat down next to Cyprian, the older pirate sitting across from us.
“Legend has it that more than five hundred years ago, there was one king that ruled all the four kingdoms; Dystalphi, Astodia, Crea, and Tre
lla.”
He raised four fingers, and then pressed them together. “This was one kingdom: Archaon. The king was loved by everyone, and the ones who didn’t love him feared him. He was wealthy, but there was no greed in his heart. He would give, but would never run out.
“The king had a daughter who he loved more than his
kingdom, and would sacrifice his life for hers. One night, as he’d grown old, he had a dream. He saw a tree bearing four fruits. Three of them fell to the ground, sour and rotten. The last fruit hung on as long as it could, but in the end, it fell, rolling towards the rest of them.
“When the king awoke, he was frightened. He gathered the most famous soothsayers from every part of his kingdom and asked them the interpretation of the dream. They all said one thing; ‘there will be a war in the future, and four of your descendants will be the cause of it’.
“As the king grew older, his daughter was married to a nobleman. She had three sons as beautiful as she, and as they grew into fine young men, a fourth came along the way. A little girl, with eyes as blue as the sky.”
“I know where this story is headed,” I interjected, “but how do you know any of this is true?”
“Let me continue,” Augustus said calmly. “The king could already see what was happening, but he never thought the time would come so quickly. The brothers fought with each other every chance they got and over the littlest of things. But each of them loved their sister individually.
“One day, the king fell ill. On his deathbed, he wrote something down, giving it to his daughter to keep safe with her. Years after his death, the kingdom was chaotic. The brothers fought and murders were attempted on each of them by paid assassins. Each brother wanted the kingdom for himself.
“Eventually, they came to a conclusion. The brothers would equally split the land and wealth and stay out of each other’s territory. And so, the four kingdoms were created.”
“And the sister?”
“She received the last of the land and lived with her mother in what is now known as the kingdom of Trella,” Cyprian
finished.
“But how do you all this? And what exactly did this ‘king’ write down, even if this is true?”
“He hid a weapon,” Augustus explained, “a weapon which my great-grandfather and his great-great grandfather and even before that have been looking for. The last part of the prophecy is missing, and we know it’s in Trella—only because we scoured the other three kingdoms high and low.”
“How did you get your hands on something so important?” I asked him. “And how does no one know the history of their own kingdom?”
“Things are forgotten, Adalia,” Augustus said, leaning back. “Us pirates, we always existed. We are hidden, but we knew everything. A while after the kingdom had divided, the princes, busy in taking what was rightfully theirs, were stolen from. The king’s advisor was one of the thieves. He grabbed what he could get his hands on and escaped, but we, us pirates, caught him before he could get anywhere. These documents were in his stolen goods.” The pirate got stood up, the wooden legs of his chair scraping against the rocky floor. “I’ll be back.” He limped slowly, exiting the mouth of the huge cave.
I looked up at the stalagmites hanging low from the ceiling, dripping water onto my head. I scooted sideways, my chair knocking into Cyprian’s.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“No worries,” Cyprian said with a smile. “So, what did you think? Do you believe it?”
“I will when I have proof,” I said with a shrug. “I do wonder, though, what kind of a weapon he had.”
“According to the prophecy, it was a weapon that could bring the kingdoms back together once and for all, or rip them completely apart.”
“So, the other half is in Trella?”
“Yes. The man escaped, or so the pirates were told by their grandfathers. The way Augustus told it made him sound evil, but he was really on the king’s side. He was taking the documents to the king’s granddaughter who ruled over Trella.”
“Here they are.” We turned to see Augustus enter the cave, putting pressure on his right leg. He came to a halt in front of me and handed me the papers, then turned, walking around the table, and sat in his seat.
I rolled the scroll open. I skimmed the page, and the story was written exactly the way Augustus had explained, from the king’s dream to the splitting of his kingdom.
“What does the second part tell you?” I asked him, setting the scroll down.
“It tells us the location of this weapon. Bring it to us, and you have our allegiance.”
I stared at his old face, bewildered. “Allegiance?”
“For this war, Assassin. If we find this weapon with your help, we will use it to protect Astodia and Crea.”
I sat back in the chair, perplexed. This hadn’t been at all what I was expecting. “You’ll fight with us?”
“Once we have the weapon, we’ll be strong enough to.” He sat back as well, folding his hands over the table.
I rubbed my face. “Well, I’ll have to think about this.”
“Take all the time you need,” Augustus swept his hands in the air. “We’ll ready your ship to Trella with supplies. Safe journey, Assassin.”
He stood up, taking a bow, and then proceeded to leave me there, sitting in wonder at what I was going to do next.
“I don’t know if we can trust them,” Xavier said, a frown on his face. “I mean, they’re giving us so much for these documents. Don’t you think it would be better if we kept this for ourselves?”
“They’ve been looking for this weapon for years,” I reasoned. “If there’s anyone who can find it in the least amount of time, it’s them.”
We walked on the edge of the mountain, gravel crunching under our boots. Xavier had his hand on his sword the whole time, as if he was waiting for someone to jump us any second. I stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
“Calm down,” I held out my hands. “I know Cyprian.”
“You’ve met him once in your life, Adalia,” Xavier scowled. “You can’t just trust him because he recognized you after seven years.”
“I’ve met him twice,” I retorted, defensive. “And I’m not trusting him completely. That’s why I’m discussing this with you.”
Xavier rolled his eyes, stepping around me and continuing his walk. “Where are your blond followers?”
“They’re not my followers, they’re my friends.”
“Think before you speak, Assassin. They might end up dead as well.”
My jaw fell. Enraged, I pressed my palms to his back and gave him a shove. He staggered forward.
“Say it to my face,” I said through clenched teeth. “One more time.”
He took two long strides towards me, smirking. “Demetria is dead.” My eyes fell to his neck. The wound was still fresh on his throat—the place where Blade Hand had cut into Xavier’s skin. I looked back up at his face.
“She died to protect this kingdom.” I wasn’t about to back down, taking two more steps towards him.
“My father died,” he sneered.
“He wasn’t a friend, Xavier.”
“He depended on you. You swore to protect his life.”
“He didn’t listen to me when I needed him to, and ended up dead. I did everything I could to protect him till the end,” I pointed at him. “Don’t you dare say otherwise.”
“You betrayed him.”
“As did you. Or did you forget who helped me break out of his special Dungeon?”
“Lance died.”
My stomach dropped. “No, he didn’t. He’s alive and well.”
“Is he?” The smirk was back.
“Stop it. You . . . you’re horrible,” was all I could muster. He was horrible. Truly. Xavier had never been like this. Yes, I’d definitely dealt with worse. But this? No matter how much I spent time with him, I couldn’t accept the fact that this was what he’d become. “I can’t stand you anymore.” I tried to walk away,
but he grabbed my wrists, turning me to face him.
“You did before. You were a cruel human, Adalia.”
“I don’t do those . . . things . . .” I said, swallowing, “anymore. I don’t hurt people unless they hurt me.”
“Explain it to me,” I said, throwing my hands up in exasperation, “why do you hate me so much? You’re so bipolar! I don’t understand you at all—”
“Do you really want to know?” he shouted, striding towards me. Now, his face was inches from mine. I held my ground, although I felt as if I would fall back any second.
“Yes. What did I ever do to you?” I murmured.
“The real question is, what did I ever do to you?” he said quietly, the smirk slipping away. “When you risked everything for that rebel boy . . . All I had done was protect you. No one cared more than I did.”
“We had a chance,” I replied softly. “You destroyed it the
day you faked your death.”
“We might have had one,” he agreed, his golden eyes serious, “but what could I expect from you when you risked your entire life to protect him? You would do nothing like that for me.”
“How would you ever know that?” I asked, feeling sick. I pulled my arms away. “Why . . . I chose you, Xavier! He knew it, I knew it, and I thought you knew it too!” I was shouting at him. I couldn’t help it. His behavior was shocking. I was appalled his words. This entire time, after being reunited for months, he’d been so sour because of Lance? I’d made it all clear to him, but it was his fault! He had decided to choose his path, not me. If he’d stayed, everything would’ve been so easy.
“Whatever.” He let go of me.
“You know you’re wrong!” I shouted. “You know you’re being childish. You’re just blaming me for your own mistakes.”
I whipped around, storming away. Fine. My decision was made. We would go to Trella, and I would bring the pirates their prophecy.
TWENTY ONE
The Four Kingdoms Page 16