Daughter of Retribution (Crescent Queen Book 1)

by Wren Cartwright

  “Tell them your plan,” Callisa urged, laying a hand on Lyra’s toned arm.

  Lyra looked at her like she was sick in love. “I’m switching with the next guard in two hours, I know you couldn’t tell in the cells, but it’s around midnight.” She looked sheepish, and Callisa leans up to whisper something in her ear, causing a small smile to form. “The guards are light right now. If we can bypass the one in the throne room and take out the pair at the entrance, we should be in the clear.”

  “I don’t even know where we are,” I bit my lip. “How will we find the estate?

  “I don’t know where the estate is, but we’re close to the Gwynoan forest,” Lyra whispered.

  “That can’t be possible; I knew this area well. I would have heard if Theia was here all these years.” Azael said with a frown.

  “I don’t know if she’s always been here,” Lyra said hurriedly, “but she has an invisibility ward surrounding the place. It’s how no-one knows that she’s here.” She took in a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “One more thing,” she glanced quickly to Callisa, “she lied. When she told you she destroyed the deirach elixir. She needs it for her plans.”

  My eyes widened, and a surge of hope-filled my chest. “Really?!” Lyra nodded solemnly.

  Suddenly Nerys spoke up. “I’ll get it.”

  Carwyn frowned. “What if you get hurt?”

  She shrugged. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take. We need this.”

  Azael nodded, and we began to strategize.

  One hour later and we were ready. Azael was in the lead, creeping around the corner to the throne room. The guard was standing behind the throne, examining his fingernails. We inched along the shadows of the wall, quietly stalking towards the entrance when my foot scuffed on the floor. I panicked, worrying that I had damned us all. The guard turned his face our way and frowned, beginning to start the walk over, squinting the whole way. Suddenly Alaric turned the corner and barked, “guard.”

  “Yes, sir,” he stammered.

  “There was a breach in the left-wing; why are you not dealing with it?” Alaric asked haughtily. We all stood with bated breath, hoping that it worked. Alaric had no idea that we were escaping, was there truly a breach? Was he just helping us any way he knew how?

  “I- I was assigned to the throne room.”

  “Not anymore,” Alaric snarled, “all guards are needed; it’s a high-level threat.” The guard hesitated, looking once in our direction, then nodded and scurried away. Alaric let out a low breath.

  “You can come out now,” he said levelly. Azael exited the shadows first, eyes firmly on his brother. It broke my heart to see his distrust.

  “Come with us,” Azael said, though I could hear the question in his voice, the uncertainty. I wondered if Alaric could as well.

  “Very well.” He sighed. “My work here is done, and I can do no further.”

  He glanced at each of us. “The deirach elixir is in the right-wing, third door on the left.” Nerys broke away from the group, slinking out the door after we wished her luck and demanded that she stay safe. She was to meet us in the forest outside; we would wait five minutes before leaving.

  Lyra led the charge, marching out to the front gates. We slunk behind her, keeping an eye out for anyone. A lone guard turned the corner, and his eyes widened. Just as he opened his mouth, Azael took the knife Lyra had lent him and sliced at his throat. The blood flowed down, drenching his shirt and the ground below him. I felt sick, ill at all the violence needed just because Theia had no sense of control, just because she was insane.

  Alaric approached the guard’s station, conversing with them while Carwyn used the shadows to creep up at their backs. She stabbed one through the back with one steady motion and kicked the other down onto his knees. Lyra slashed at the other, then stabbed him through the neck. Well, that’s an indicator of loyalty if I ever saw one; Azael quipped dryly in my head. I suppressed an inappropriate and ill-timed laugh. We ran through the wide gates; Lyra had cracked them just the slightest for us, and ran into the woods beyond.

  It was there that Nerys emerged seven minutes later, panting and disheveled. We had almost left but stayed out of loyalty, out of the fear that she would need rescuing. Looking as emotional as I’d ever seen her. She was covered with blood, with several marks bleeding on her arms. Carwyn grabbed her, looking down at her clothes. “Not your blood,” she mumbled in relief.

  “Iridin’s,” she rasped. “Ran into him while he was guarding the room. I fought with him and ended up stabbing him in the side to incapacitate him.”

  Just then, shouts started ringing through the compound. “They know you’re no longer there,” Lyra said with wide eyes. “Come on.”

  We ran. We ran so fast and far that it felt like mile after mile flew by.

  CHAPTER 21

  We were one night away from the estate when Alaric looked towards the stars and whispered, “he’s there, isn’t he.”

  We still had not gone over why Alaric was alive, how he did not die as it had appeared. Nor what Theia’s plan was. We hoped to address the issues with everyone else at once, to get all the questions out of the way. Alaric had been quiet for the trip. Azael frequently snuck looks his way, speaking in my head about his concerns.

  I did not have to ask who he meant. “Yes,” I responded.

  “How is he?”

  Carwyn looked confused, like she didn’t know how to answer. On the one hand, Alaric worked for Theia, so it seemed like he could have helped them at some point, let them know he was alive. On the other, he appeared happy to be free of that place, and we didn’t know his reasoning yet. Either way, Azael answered, sparing no expense for Alaric’s feelings and cutting to the quick.

  “He’s different, brother. He changed in prison, changed when you died. Do not expect the same man you abandoned a thousand years ago.”

  Alaric made a strangled noise deep in his throat, then nodded his understanding. “He was my best friend,” he whispered. I could hear the tears in his voice even though I could not see them on his face.

  “And you were his,” I answered.

  “Sinaia told me about you in a dream,” he whispered.

  “How could she speak to you and not the others?” I asked.

  “He can dreamwalk,” Bastien stated. He poked at our fire with a long stick, sending embers dancing through the air.

  “Have you used the moon bolt?”

  “Yes, though I’m sure she told you about Lavinia?”

  His face darkened. “Lavinia would come to the compound for yearly check-ins. It was excruciating watching an ally of ours betray us so strongly. But Theia threatened Velis.”

  I understood then why Lavinia had been compromised. Her companion, her best friend was in danger. That would make anyone think twice; selflessness was a common trait in these warriors, unlike selfishness.

  Nerys spoke for the first time that night. She had been uncharacteristically quiet since her fight with Iridin. “I don’t know how he’ll react to seeing you, Alaric. He still mourns you; he took it the hardest besides your siblings.”

  “We missed you greatly,” Bastien added; his face was somber for once.

  I looked at Alaric, into his deep blue eyes and found the remorse I was hoping for. Remorse meant there was a chance he had not lost himself in his years spent with the sun goddess.

  We slept well that night, Azael by my side, warm despite the chill in the air. He had not strayed far since we left, and always had some part of his body touching mine. I reassured him every hour, stroking his hand or intertwining our fingers. It was new for us, that physical comfort. But I found it easy, like he’d been at my side my entire life.

  “I am worried about Alaric,” he murmured low. Our hands lay intertwined between us, and my leg was thrown over his.

  “He needs time to adjust,” I whispered. “Let him see Elias, let him explain what happened, let him heal. Just like you did.”

  “I never fully healed, Aeryn. I sti
ll hear things sometimes, still feel the bloodlust, the wildness.” He sighed. “You have no idea how much you have helped me. I would never have progressed at this speed without you.”

  “Do not credit me with your progress, Azael. You are a warrior.”

  “And you are my rock,” he murmured as he ground his hips into mine.

  “Something is a rock,” I giggled, attempting to lighten the subject.

  “Mm,” he growled, flipping me over.

  CHAPTER 22

  We reached the estate the next day at noon. We made a rather good pace, worried that the guards would find us during their searches. Lyra was hesitant to meet the others, but she had no reason to be. She had not understood the depths of Theia’s depravity. Alaric, however… He had much to tell us.

  The grounds were empty as we approached, but people began filing out as soon as we got closer. Bram and Kaelen were first, quickly eclipsed by Elias; several others trailed behind, including Eleste and Corsin.

  As soon as Elias reached us, he pulled up short, staring at Alaric like he had seen a ghost. His brown hair was untied and loose around his face, falling to his shoulders. His brown eyes were wide, filled with confusion and devastation. He made a strangled noise and took a single tortured step forward.

  Alaric looked broken. He took several steps towards Elias, reaching a hand out hesitantly, then resting it back by his side when Elias stood still.

  They stared at each other for several moments, unaware of everyone surrounding them.

  “How?” Elias croaked. “Am I really seeing this?” He looked around at us wildly, taking in the sympathetic faces.

  “I- I didn’t; I’m okay, Elias.” Then, like he could barely speak, could barely move, he breathed out, “Elias.” Alaric’s eyes shone with tears, and his hands shook.

  Elias finally twitched his hand, then his whole body was in motion as he threw himself at Alaric. “I thought you died. I thought you were dead,” tears fell down his cheeks as he clung to Alaric like he’d never let go. Alaric held him back just as tightly, gripping him with all his might.

  Elias buried his head in Alaric’s neck, holding the back of his head with one hand and gripping his back with the other. Alaric was weeping openly now. It was the first real show of emotion I had seen from either of them except that night when I sat with Elias by the fire. Azael gripped my hand tightly, and there were tears in almost everyone’s eyes.

  “I missed you… so damn much, every day,” Elias rasped brokenly, his voice muffled by Alaric’s neck.

  “I missed you too,” Alaric mumbled. “Missed you every second, every hour. All of you.” He looked at us with tears streaming down his face, his emotional dam broken. Azael looked pained, took a small step like he could comfort him better than Elias.

  Eleste looked at us in shock, “what happened?”

  “Alaric lived somehow. He was working for Theia when we were captured at the palace in Ixket,” Azael explained.

  Elias stepped back abruptly, looking at Alaric in anger. “You what? Did you work for her? For a thousand years while we rotted in prison thinking you were dead?” The hurt and anger were evident on his face. Desperation and devastation showed while his voice rose with each word, practically begging Alaric to tell him it wasn’t true.

  “You have to understand Elias, I-”

  That was all Elias needed to hear. He nodded once, then in the middle of Alaric’s sentence, he stormed up the stairs to the estate, slamming the front door behind him. Tears ran down Alaric’s face as he watched his former friend turn his back on him.

  “Well,” Bram said drolly, “I think it’s time we went inside and talked.”

  I wanted to cry for Alaric, for the forlorn look in his red-rimmed eyes. He looked empty inside; he moved like a spirit beside us, quiet and ungainly. I wanted to comfort him somehow, but knew nothing I said would take the sting out of Elias’s departure.

  We entered the dining room as a group, each taking a seat at the ornate oak table. The walls were a rich burgundy color, and the chairs were designed to match the table. Azael sat next to me, near the middle, with Callisa and Lyra on my other side and Alaric next to him. Across from Alaric sat Nerys, then Bastien, Carwyn, Eleste, and Corsin. Bram and Kaelen sat at opposite ends of the table. Alaric drummed his fingers impatiently, glancing at the door like Elias would walk through any minute. Azael murmured something to him, too low for me to hear, but it must have worked because Alaric nodded, then sat up straighter. Two men pulled up chairs.

  “I’ve missed you all greatly,” one man said. He had jet black hair and twinkling grey eyes. He looked dark, mischievous.

  The other man chimed in, “especially our training sessions.” His russet-colored hair shone under the chandelier, and his amber eyes were calm, flinty.

  I tilted my head in question, and they did not disappoint. “Emrys,” the first man said. “God of nightmares and dreams, son of the god of night.” I did a double-take at his introduction, examining him a little more closely. He wore dark clothing; his face was both warm and impassive.

  The second man spoke next. “Asrian, I was the only soldier blessed by the goddess of love.” He turned his head to the man next to me. “Azael… A great number of our allies have passed over the years.” I wonder what the goddess of love was like in person. Harsh like the rumors, or gentle like her lovers described?

  You have friends in high places, I observed, communicating to Azael.

  He gave a rough laugh.

  “So,” Kaelen drawled. “Where do we begin, the fact that Azael just laughed at nothing? Or that Alaric is back from the dead?” he raised an eyebrow in question.

  “It’s been awhile,” Azael grumbled. “I forget to school my emotions when mind-speaking.” Everyone began shouting over one another, questions, congratulations, recriminations. Azael explained how his power had re-surfaced in the cell, and everyone else complained that nothing had happened. Almost everyone.

  “It could be all the time I’m spending with Corsin,” Eleste began nervously, “but I made a plant grow the other day.”

  “That’s amazing news!” Callisa exclaimed as she walked over to embrace Eleste.

  She then sat with a sigh, interlacing her fingers and bowing her head. "I'll tell you what happened to us. Then Alaric has a lot of explaining to do. We found Alaric when we were ambushed at the palace. Theia had known we were coming for the deirach elixir. He..." her voice broke.

  "I drove the knife into Azael's body." He stated flatly, back to his emotionless mask.

  Eleste jumped out of her seat, eyes wide and accusatory.

  "It's alright, Eleste," Azael said kindly.

  "We were imprisoned in Theia's cells; the compound is near the Gwynoan forest. There's an invisibility ward up." Azael explained how Lyra freed us, how Nerys stole the elixir back, and Alaric left with us. In the end, Eleste was openly gaping. Bram looked impressed, and Corsin seemed as cool as ever.

  Azael cleared his throat. Just then, Elias walked in, the entire room quieted. He pulled a chair next to Nerys and took a seat, one muscled arm casually slung along the back of the chair, the other resting on the table.

  Alaric's eyes widened, and pain crossed his face, but he continued.

  "During the solstice massacre, I was drained to the point where I passed out. You all were imprisoned, and I was presumed dead. Until I wasn't. I woke up surrounded by bodies, was immediately brought in front of Theia, and told that if I did not obey her whims that you would suffer." He looked each member in the eyes. "That she would visit you in adamanteis and drain you to the point of death." His voice cracked slightly and the fist that was resting on the table clenched.

  "I think... I think after five hundred years passed, she assumed that I was loyal to her. That I had really come to see her side of things. She began including me in strategy talks." He winced. "I wasn't a threat, I was a warrior, but my powers were drained to the point where they never really resurfaced."

  "You mentioned being
able to dreamwalk with Sinaia?" I prompted curiously.

  "Yes, as she's my patron goddess, we have a stronger connection. Especially since she can dreamwalk as well."

  He turned to Azael and me with a frown. "I am truly sorry about Lavinia; I wish I could have warned you."

  "I understand," I said simply. He had been through too much to be blamed for Lavinia's actions.

  "I don't understand why you stabbed him," Callisa said shakily. Lyra took one of her hands, and she gripped it gratefully.

  Alaric exhaled a deep sigh, glanced towards Elias only to find him studiously ignoring him, then spoke.

  "Theia has... a failsafe. She's threatened that her death will trigger it. If you all had defeated her that day..." He shuddered.

  "So you stabbed him?" Nerys asked quietly.

  Alaric raised his voice. "You cannot even begin to understand, Nerys, the things that weigh on my soul. And how many lives I thought I'd save my stabbing my own brother." He was shaking with rage and emotion; his blue eyes looked fierce. Everyone at the table quieted in acquiescence, letting it go. Azael took Alaric's hand and squeezed it once in solidarity.

  "I do not blame you, brother." He whispered. Tears sprung to Alaric’s eyes, and he nodded.

  "So," Asrian drawled. "I think it's high time we know what Theia is up to."

  Alaric spoke again. Quieter this time. "She was content over her victory at solstice for some time. Hundreds of years later, she began feeling discontent. It wasn't enough to have her goddess sister locked away, to have gained the power of her immortals; she wanted more." He shifted in his seat uncomfortably.