Daughter of Retribution (Crescent Queen Book 1)

by Wren Cartwright

  Unaware of the conflict raging in my mind, or perhaps uncaring either way, he had begun to slink away as quietly as he came.

  "Oh, I'm going to regret this," I muttered under my breath. Loosening my grip on my pack, I yelled out, "wait!"

  Several seconds passed, and the feelings of loss and disappointment were enough to tell me that no matter how dangerous, I had made the right decision. The sooner I got my answers, the sooner I could clear up the situation with my pursuers. Surely once they knew they were chasing the wrong girl, they would leave me be? An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach as I awaited a response.

  His smooth, baritone voice echoed off the foliage around us. "Are you certain?" He asked. "I don't have time to babysit."

  I felt my cheeks grow heated with anger. How I'd like to kick you into the river, dirty bastard, I quipped to myself. Though I quickly decided to keep the retort non-verbal. It was probably best not to antagonize my guide for the moment. I let out a slow, measured breath, and finally responded. "Yes."

  "Come then." He materialized in the same spot as before; I hadn't even noticed him creeping back. Maybe he could teach me that stealth, I wondered.

  "Not so fast," a gravelly voice rang out to the left of the river.

  A furious look crossed the man's face, pale eyebrows furrowed with frustration, and his firm jaw clenched. "How do you fools move so bloody fast?" He grumbled, eyes darting wildly from me to the voice.

  I squinted in that direction and gasped when the brown cloaks of my hunters came into view.

  "Sorry, lads. We have business elsewhere," the man said cheerily, his easy-going countenance belied by his tense jaw and slight clenching of his fists.

  "We need the girl," another voice rang out, this time behind us on our side of the river.

  The man began cursing angrily under his breath; all I could catch were various snippets. Good goddess, he swore like a pirate. He grimaced before extending a hand in my direction.

  "Right, love." His voice was grim. His eyes flickered towards the fast-moving river then back to mine.

  Understanding began to dawn, and I closed my eyes to hide my growing alarm. Die by the creepy cloaked men before I can clear the misunderstanding? Or dive into the freezing treacherous river with the naiads, and who knows what else? It seemed that I had no choice. The men behind me exchanged triumphant looks and stepped closer. I reasoned with myself, taking several deep breaths before giving a tiny nod in the man's general direction.

  His response was a gleeful smile, showcasing pearly white teeth and a deep dimple on either cheek. I slipped my hand into his and clasped his long fingers. I expected his hand to be cold and calloused but instead found smooth warmth. He squeezed my hand; for a moment, I assumed he was giving me comfort, but on the third pump he began sprinting towards the rapids, tugging me along behind him. His other hand delved into his pocket as we ran, and he hurled a shiny throwing knife towards the nearest guard with deadly accuracy. His fingers flexed as he tightened his grip on the second knife, his throw fast and purposed. The knife pinned the second guard's hand to the nearest tree trunk with a dull thunk. Blood spurted from the wound, making my stomach roil, and the blood drained from my face. I was no stranger to violence, but a throwing knife to the extremity was slightly more macabre than I thought it would be.

  “Holy gods!” I shrieked. Ignoring the furious shouts of our would-be captors, I rushed to keep his pace, trying not to instinctively slow as we approached the raised riverbed. With a generous splash, we threw ourselves into the water. It was cold, murky, and forcing its way down my airways as I struggled to reach the surface. I briefly sent thanks to Ulrit, one of my host parents, for teaching me to swim so many summers ago when all I wanted to do was lie around in bed and learn to cook from Irma, his wife.

  My grip on the man’s hand had broken on impact, and I burst through the surface, gasping for air while searching my surroundings wildly. Relief filled me at the pale blonde head surfacing ahead.

  He spat out a mouthful of water before barking at me to follow and swimming with the current. Already we were several hundred feet downstream, and I was terrified of something catching my legs below. My vision was limited to the cresting of the rapids, the occasional flash of a foot or an arm in front of me, and glimpses of the cloudy sky above. The adrenaline raced through my body, keeping my extremities from freezing. I swam until my body ached, my fingers were pruning, and I no longer heard the incensed shouts of our pursuers. We were moving much too fast for them to catch up on foot, and their heavy cloaks and wounds would prevent them from jumping in and following. Finally, the man in front of me navigated to the river’s edge and slapped a hand onto an extended tree root, sending bark fragments flying. He pulled his body from the river, and water sluiced down his transparent clothing, highlighting his powerful form.

  I blinked, clearing the water from my vision, and averting my eyes with a frown. I followed his path across the river until he extended a hand down and clasped my arm firmly, pulling me from the water with a strength of which it didn't look like he should be capable. I immediately pulled my arm back, taking my pack from my shoulders, shaking the water free, and grimacing.

  “This should be fun,” he rasped. “I only meant to leave my group for several hours at most. I didn’t bring supplies.” He set a wary eye on my waterlogged bag.

  I sighed, my entire aching, soaking wet body heaving with the motion. “I wrap most things in waterproof coverings in case of emergency. I have rations and fire-starters both protected.”

  He eyed me incredulously. “Can’t have a fire, love, unless you feel like having one of the guards stumbling upon the camp. The smell of smoke travels further than the draw of your aura.”

  “Brilliant.” I turned on my heel, internalizing my frustration until I felt that I would no longer scathe him with my words. I plucked at my sopping wet garments and started wringing my white hair. Once I had finished with the minute tasks keeping my hands occupied, I began pacing back and forth.

  “I don’t even know your name.” It came out high-pitched and verging on hysterical. He stopped my frantic pacing with a cool hand on my arm.

  I took several deep breaths, centering myself to the loamy earth beneath my feet and the mossy scent of the river on the air. “You can call me Azael,” he said softly.

  I extended my hand to him, clasping his firmly. “Aeryn.” I was usually more prepared in such situations.

  My breathing slowed as I rolled his name over in my head. He nodded, obviously pleased with the de-escalation, pulling my pack from my tight grasp, and taking the lead in our search for a suitable area to camp.

  CHAPTER 3

  I turned over, shivering. My overcoat was still soaking wet from the river and draped over a nearby tree branch to dry. Fortunately, the rest of my clothes were thinner, and dried as we prepared for camp, preventing me from being completely freezing in the cool hours of the night. I was fortunate to have worn my wool sweater and trousers, given to me by a merchant in exchange for several bundles of mugwort and valerian.

  The moon hid behind the same heavy clouds that were present during the day, and the only light came from the occasional glimpse of the stars as they parted. A deep blanket of darkness covered the camp. I adjusted my damp pack to better support my head and tried to stop my teeth from chattering. Although the adrenaline wasn’t helping. Only ten feet away lay a man whom I had only just met, draped in secrets and knowledge and who would be next to my vulnerable sleeping body. If I didn’t have so much experience staying in strange places with even stranger people, I would have been more nervous. Considering he already convinced me to follow him into the rapids, I couldn’t see things getting much worse. Despite his earlier lack of response to my dagger, I was confident I could do some damage if needed, at least enough to escape. A lethargic sigh escaped me as I found myself mourning the small yet warm and cozy cottage from earlier.

  "If you don't stop tossing and turning, I'm going to throw you in the
lake." A low bold voice echoed through the clearing.

  I huffed, settling on my right side, facing his direction, and fixing my pack one more time.

  "You're crazy," I remarked. "I don't know how you could be comfortable right now."

  "Never said I wasn't crazy, love. And I can't remember the last time I've been comfortable. This is a vast improvement over my most recent sleeping accommodations."

  I decided to leave the latter of his sentence for another day and instead addressed the first.

  "Quit calling me love." It came out petty and haughty, and I cringed as it rang across the silence.

  "No." His voice was firm.

  "No?"

  "No."

  "Then I'll call you- I- um..." I sputtered, thanking the darkness for hiding the embarrassed flush to my face.

  Thank the gods he ignored my inability to think of a proper retort. "You can call me anything you like, Aeryn."

  A shiver rolled down my back at the way he said my name. Stupid seductive man!

  "I hate you," I grumbled.

  "You can't hate what you don't know."

  "Then I hate what I do know, arrogant prick."

  I growled under my breath, turning once more to face away from his direction and ignoring his low laugh.

  When I finally woke, my head felt groggy, and it took me several blinks to clear the sleep from my eyes. The sky was barely lit overhead, and the air was still chilled. Must be dawn, I surmised. Without moving a muscle, I flitted my eyes around the campsite, observing my surroundings and looking for Azael.

  He was nowhere to be found.

  I picked my aching bones up from the ground and gathered my things in quick, practiced motions, ready in just minutes. Once I felt suitably packed, I wound my hair into a low bun while deciding between looking around to see where he had gone and waiting for him to come back.

  A sudden chill ran through my body, and my stomach dropped. Azael didn't leave me here, did he? Oh gods, I know I wasn't enthusiastic initially, but he's the first person who can get me answers! I shook my head, dismissing the thought. He seemed to want to help me for some reason; I didn’t think he would just leave me. I decided to leave my pack on the dewy grass and began to trek through the surrounding forest. Following a small trail to a rocky outcropping, I saw his lean figure sprawled out near the edge. I stood still for several moments, trying to gauge what he was doing without alerting him to my presence, but I must not have been as stealthy as I thought.

  Eyes still closed, Azael spoke, his deep voice filling the silence. "Care to join me?"

  I picked my way over the rocky surface and settled on a nice flat spot to the left of his body. The rocks were cool to the touch, a light sand color.

  "What are you doing out here?" It came out blunt and accusatory. "I mean, you don't have to." I stuttered over my words, flushing a bright red. "Sorry,” I mumbled, gathering my knees to my chest, and resting my cheek.

  Instead of the disdain I was expecting, I heard a low chuckle.

  I looked away from his profile, admiring the vast green hills and trees in the distance, the long winding rivers in between. I could see for miles and miles.

  When he spoke, his voice was quiet, at odds with his usual bluster.

  "Do you know the last time I saw the sun rise?"

  I blinked in surprise, scanning the ground below for various woodland creatures, letting my silence answer for me. I was unsure of where he was going with this, but I had a sneaking suspicion that it would be painful.

  "A thousand years."

  My head snapped to face him. His face was emotionless, his features cold and his mouth a firm line.

  "Excuse me?" Outwardly, I schooled my features; inwardly, my mind was racing. Is he a wizard? A warlock? Just who is this man? Witches and warlocks had long since become solitary creatures, restricting their services to other magical and less prejudiced beings, so I doubted that he would be wandering the forest looking for unsuspecting women, but stranger things had happened.

  "What do you know of the adamanteis prison?"

  My eyebrows raised in my forehead, and I was silent for a few moments as I gathered all my knowledge on the matter. "A thousand years ago, before the current monarchy came to power and the sun kingdom was still ruled by the sun goddess, Theia; her sister, the moon goddess Sinaia, attempted to take control. She brought soldiers from the moon kingdom and her children. They slaughtered hundreds before she was apprehended, and her army was killed." My fingers traced circles in the cool grooves of the stone beneath me. “Her children, immortal as she, were locked in the prison of adamanteis, never to be seen again.”

  "They were her children in a distant, metaphorical sense. Numbered at thirty, they were branded with her mark upon their hips, with a dose of her essence in their souls. Sinaia blessed them with a fraction of her innate powers as a goddess, and they each had a unique power as well.” He closed his eyes, pale lids hiding the fact that they were darting back and forth with emotion and clasped his hands in his lap to still their slight shaking. “She chose random newborns that were brought to her temple for a life-blessing. High-born and low, with no care for their circumstances or their parents.”

  He shifted onto his back, staring up at the sky. “To imbue her essence into these children, the moon goddess began bleeding her power, breaking off pieces of herself and sacrificing them as an offering to Gaia in an exchange for companionship. They became her surrogate children, in a sense. They studied in her temples; they accompanied her to feasts; they trained with her soldiers. Their parents were eternally grateful, and they reaped the rewards of their blessed children through sufficient food and shelter until the end of their days.”

  "Oh," I breathed. I had heard about the moon goddess from the priestesses I stayed with, from the books in the temples and the offerings they gifted her. I had always struggled to believe a goddess so firmly worshipped and so devoted to her descendants had attempted to take over that which was not hers to take. I had never heard this either.

  “She was,” Azael’s voice sounded wistful for a moment before his face settled into an impassive mask, as he looked over the expanse of the forest below us. “The sun goddess was jealous. Too selfish to sacrifice any of her power to gain children and acolytes of her own, she was resentful of her sister. Having had the love of her kingdom, not only the company of the marked children but the strength that came with having many trained and powerful immortals devoted to her. Theia sent a letter inviting them for a feast in the capital, Solaris, to celebrate the summer solstice.”

  I looked over at him, brows furrowed, and mouth pulled down. “I’ve never heard this version.”

  He shrugged, crossing his long legs with a sigh. “I can’t imagine you would have.”

  I quieted once more, giving him time to pick up where he left off.

  “Once they arrived, they quickly realized that their drinks were poisoned, poisoned with something their bodies could not rid easily. That the jealous goddess had intended to slaughter them where they stood, hoping to absorb their collective essence and increase her power. She had not visited the moon kingdom since their creation. Sure, her spies had reported that they were well trained, and stories of their exploits had traveled across kingdoms, but she underestimated their strength. Always underestimating, Theia. Five centuries had passed since their birth, highly trained immortals against human soldiers? Thousands of Theia’s soldiers died. The humans of the entourage fought bravely before succumbing to their injuries, the onslaught was too much for the small group remaining, and they were steadily weakened. She drained twenty-one of Sinaia’s children that day. Taking their essence into herself and rendering them mortals, leading to a mortal death in front of the others. She could have killed them through beheadings but chose to demoralize those left behind.”

  My mouth dropped in outrage, anger rising and flushing my pale ears and cheeks. “That’s horrific.” My voice trembled slightly, and I coughed to dislodge the emotions building in
my chest, threatening to spill over in tears.

  “Tragic.” His eyes were unfocused. “It was tragic. The moon goddess was too weakened from extending herself to protect the others to fight the sun goddess; she was captured and placed into a glass coffin. Theia could not kill her, no, but she had prepared a tonic to subdue her and had runes drawn over her final resting place to ensure that she could not wake.”

  He clenched his fists repeatedly, jaw ticking with anger.

  “The remaining nine children stood down. After watching their friends, their family, their goddess fall before them; they laid down their weapons and allowed themselves to be apprehended. Instead of killing them, Theia had them locked away to ensure the moon kingdom’s compliance. They were beloved, extensions of the goddess herself; Theia knew it would be easier to take control with their lives in her hands. She sealed them behind the walls of adamanteis, never to be seen or heard from again.”

  I was circling between disbelief and wariness. Azael breathed in deep lungfuls of fresh air, like enough of the cold in his lungs could expunge the story from his memory. His silver eyes flashed in the dim morning light. “How do you know all of this? How come it’s not in any history books like the original story?”

  He took a deep breath, and I felt a surge of apprehension. “The wards fell several days ago; we wasted no time in slaughtering the very few exterior guards and fleeing the area. Once again, Theia underestimated our resourcefulness.”

  “No.” I shook my head stubbornly, crossing my arms over my chest. Holy gods, how did I end up here with a crazy man? What was I thinking? My mind was bouncing back and forth erratically.

  “No?” The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk.

  “There’s no way!”

  “Yet you believe the gods and goddesses exist, do you not?”

  “I’m not disputing that they exist. I’m saying there’s no way that the wards of the elusive hidden adamanteis prison fell, and I’m now speaking to an immortal.”