by JD Monroe
“You made it very quickly,” Kaldir said, bowing to them.
“The Firestorm made it clear that this was a priority,” Velati said. “We flew all night. No rest for the weary, eh?”
“What did Viraszel tell you?” Kaldir asked.
“She handed me your message and told me to get my ass in the air,” Velati replied. “Tell me what’s going on.” He sank back into his chair, his posture ramrod straight. He was a few years older than Kaldir’s mother, putting him close to three hundred years old. He was shorter than Kaldir, with a leaner build than most Kadirai males. However, after getting his face put in the dirt several times while sparring, Kaldir had learned a valuable lesson about underestimating his opponents.
“As ordered, we came south to fight the Chosen in Arvelor. They had left only a small force of soldiers and several Aesdar to hold the city, which was largely deserted. After dispatching them, we had word from our scouts that the bulk of their force had come here and had held the city under siege for several weeks,” Kaldir began. Over the next twenty minutes, he gave an account of their movements, finishing with their seizure of the Silent Orchard and losing Sidran’s trail.
“And you tried to follow him?” Velati asked. The faintest hint of accusation lurked beneath his deep voice.
“We sent a hunting party,” General Iceborne replied. “As best we could tell, one of the Aesdar carried most of their personnel. Unfortunately, they got a head start that we could not overcome. I sent Edra scouts as well, but they lost the scent amidst the corruption of Ifrahl.”
“Vazredakh,” Velati cursed. “But they headed north?”
“It seems so,” Iceborne said.
“Could you send scouting parties now?” Marlena asked.
Velati shook his head. “The Sunflight lands are massive. There’s at least two thousand square miles of land to cover, not to mention canyons and caves everywhere. A thousand places for them to hide. It would be helpful if we knew their intended destination.”
“And you have prisoners?” Marlena asked.
Kaldir nodded. “It appears that Sidran planned well. With few exceptions, his leadership is comprised of hybrids. We can’t get anywhere with them. But you can.”
Marlena flinched, but nodded grimly. “That’s why we’re here. Let’s go.”
The generals and officers captured from the Chosen survivors were kept in the lower levels of Greenspire’s dungeons. As they descended into the dark humid halls, Kaldir was glad Sohaila hadn’t accompanied them. Considering how she’d reacted to Enzar, she’d certainly protest the much harsher conditions.
The lower cells were rough-hewn, oddly shaped holes carved into the natural rock below the Iveron. The air was still and stagnant, reeking of sweat and piss. Just ahead of him, Velati and Marlena walked side by side. They were all business, but just as they reached the door, Kaldir caught a glimpse of him leaning in to whisper in her ear. The tiny sweeping motion of his thumb against her shoulder betrayed their more intimate partnership.
Hoarse voices called from the dark cells as they walked down the twisting corridor. Some begged to be released, while others spat colorful curses. Kaldir ignored them. Ahead of them, the guards opened the cell on the end of the hall.
The heavy wooden door opened with a whining creak. A pale man with raven-black hair slumped in the corner, shoulders hunched. Chapped lips curled into a sneer as he raised his head. “Well, I must be the guest of fucking honor,” he rasped. His face was marred with bruises, one eye swollen nearly shut. A dingy rag was tied around his waist, granting him a tiny shred of dignity.
“General al-Serra, I take it?” Marlena asked calmly. Kaldir had trained with her, but had never seen her deal with the enemy. She looked so young and innocent, like the clueless Iron Blade recruits he trained back home.
Behind her, General Iceborne and Velati slid into the room, tucking themselves against the walls. Kaldir remained in the doorway with Azeria at his side.
“Well, you’re a bit prettier than the last one they brought in, but I don’t have anything to tell you,” he said. He gave her a lascivious look and spread his legs, exposing his dirt-streaked groin. “Unless you’d like to try other tactics to convince me.” He jutted his hips toward her with a laugh.
After tilting her head as if to inspect his exposed groin, Marlena laughed. Al-Serra looked taken aback, shifting his legs slightly. Marlena raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, did you think I would be shocked by seeing your dick?”
“Always worth a try,” al-Serra said. “You don’t ask, the answer’s always no.”
She slid off her heavy cloak and held it out. Without a word, Azeria hurried forward to take it, then tucked herself next to Kaldir again.
Despite the damp chill of the forest, Marlena wore a sleeveless tunic that revealed her tattoos. A faint sheen of light rippled over her skin, from the crown of her head down to her toes. The red tattoos glowed, like fire burning behind stained glass.
The prisoner’s jaw dropped, and he pressed himself back into the corner. “You’re—”
“Stand up with your hands by your sides,” she commanded. Her voice resonated in the dank cell. Kaldir grasped his amulet, thankful to be out of her sight.
Moving in jerky motions, al-Serra stood, adjusting the loose cloth around his waist. His wiry frame was gaunt beneath the streaks of dirt. His eyes flitted around. “Did Sidran send you?”
“No,” she said. She glanced at Velati. “Would you help our friend hold still?”
“Gladly,” he replied. He spread both hands wide, like he was grasping a large ball. His tanned skin was covered in intricate tattoos, the same angular black lines that marked Viraszel’s skin. Runes on the backs of his hands glowed white. Light swirled around al-Serra’s legs, up over his groin, and up to his chest. With a low, crunching sound, the light solidified into a thick column of ice, glassy and smooth.
Al-Serra cried out in surprise, writhing in vain against the ice encasing him. “I’m not going to talk,” he said. He shivered violently. “I don’t care if you freeze my balls off.”
“That would be an added bonus,” Marlena said. With the man held immobile, she stepped forward and grabbed his chin. He tried to pull away, but her fingers dug into his jaw. “Look into my eyes.”
Kaldir had been on the receiving end of her power as part of his training, and was glad he wasn’t in al-Serra’s place. There was no tapping out for him. The man’s pupils widened, and his struggling stopped. The marks on Marlena’s neck glowed, pulsing faintly like she was ablaze.
“Please,” al-Serra murmured. He was eerily calm now, staring into her eyes. “Please don’t do this.”
“You will answer every question they ask, and you will tell the truth,” she said.
“I’m—”
“If I think you’re lying, I will shatter your mind like glass,” she said. “Do you believe I can do it?”
“Yes,” he whispered. The leering bluster was gone. He sounded like a scared little boy now.
She glanced back at Kaldir, eyes slightly downturned. “He’s all yours.”
Kaldir turned to General Iceborne, who gave him a hesitant look. She stared at Marlena for a moment, fear flickering across her usually stern face. “What were your orders in Greenspire?” Iceborne finally asked.
“Take the city,” he said. “We were to claim the Shrine of Mara if we weren’t stopped.”
A chill prickled down his spine at the thought of the Chosen invading the temple. “If you weren’t stopped,” Kaldir said. “You doubted you would win?”
Al-Serra’s eyes drifted to him. He twisted uncomfortably against the ice. “No. But Sidran suspected the Kadirai would retaliate.”
“And if you claimed the Shrine, what next?” Iceborne asked.
“Half of us would stay here to keep control of the city,” al-Serra said. “The rest would return to meet Sidran.”
“Where?” Iceborne pressed.
He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. M
arlena sighed and slapped his cheek just hard enough to ring out. “What did I tell you? Answer her.”
“If it was before the full moon, at the Silent Orchard,” al-Serra said. “After that, he was moving.”
“Where?” Marlena asked.
His face twisted. He shook his head, greasy black hair swaying around his face. “He’ll kill me.”
“Will it be worse than what I’m going to do to you?” Marlena asked. Despite her even, cold tone, her face was tense.
Al-Serra groaned. “Please…”
“Where were you to meet Sidran if you missed him at the Silent Orchard?” Kaldir asked.
But al-Serra was fighting back, gritting his teeth as Marlena pushed harder. Her power resonated in the air. It pushed at Kaldir’s ears, swelling in his sinuses. The amulet on his chest warmed. “The Shattered Cradle,” al-Serra finally blurted.
“And what was he doing there?” Kaldir asked.
“Staging an attack in the north,” al-Serra said.
“With no army?”
Through his grimace, al-Serra barked a harsh laugh. “No army…Master Sidran has been working toward this for decades.” He twisted his head to glare at Marlena. “He made creatures like you. United thousands under the banner of Vystus. And you think what we brought here to this shithole was everything he had? This was just to send a message.”
“You’re saying he has another army?” Iceborne said. “How many?”
Al-Serra just shook his head. “I don’t know how many.”
“When will they attack?” Velati asked. “And where?’
“I don’t know,” al-Serra said.
Marlena leaned in. “Tell us.”
“Maybe if you’d taken my offer, I’d tell you,” al-Serra said, his voice distorted by her grasp. Another palpable burst of power radiated from her, and the veins on his forehead stood out.
“Tell us what he’s planning,” Marlena seethed.
“Fuck you,” al-Serra said. He cried out sharply.
“Marlena,” Velati said, lunging forward to break her grasp. As she broke away from the prisoner, his head lolled forward with blood trickling from one ear. Velati went to grab him, but Marlena held him back. With a grim expression on her face, she tilted al-Serra’s chin up. His eyes were still open, pupils obscuring the irises in sheer black.
“Don’t touch him,” she said. “He’s alive.”
“With his brain turned to mush,” Velati muttered.
Her eyes narrowed. “If you preferred a gentle touch, you should have said so.” His blue eyes flared bright, but he held his tongue. With a flick of his wrist, the ice encasing al-Serra disintegrated into harmless flakes of snow. The man fell to the ground, eyes still wide. His unconscious form shuddered.
“He deserved it,” Kaldir said. “His people were responsible for uncountable deaths.”
“No one is arguing that point, Dawnblaze,” Velati said. “But his corpse holds no value, and we still need information.”
“Sohaila,” Kaldir murmured. Velati gave him a curious look. “One of Sidran’s prisoners was a Marashti healer who dealt with the Aesdar. She might know how to restore him.”
Velati nodded. “In the meantime, we have other prisoners. Let’s get what we came for.”
Several hours later, they left the dark dungeon behind. Most of the hybrid officers had reported directly to al-Serra, and while one of them confirmed that they would eventually move on to the Shattered Cradle, no one could answer when or where Sidran planned to attack after that.
With new information in hand, they returned to the reading room in the temple to plan their next move. To his surprise, Virnan stood at the open door. Recognition registered on his face as Kaldir rounded the corner.
Kaldir’s heart pounded as he stepped into the room and saw Sohaila sitting at the table, her back to the door. Though the temple was filled with women in the same blue clothing, he recognized her long, reddish braid before she turned to reveal the veil over her face. She stood, folding her hands neatly as General Iceborne, Velati, and the others filed into the room.
“Sister,” he said stiffly, his mouth suddenly dry. “Can I help you?” He instinctively breathed deep, catching her floral scent. The pleasant aroma awakened the memory of her skin beneath his lips. Not now.
“I heard word that the Arik’tazhan had arrived to question the prisoners,” she said. She bowed her head, speaking in a reverent tone. “Kordari, I am Sister Sohaila Mara, Apothecary of the Sapphire Circle. I would like to be included in your discussion.”
“This is delicate business,” Marlena said politely. Brows lifted in a silent question, she looked to Velati.
Velati kept his distance from Sohaila but bowed politely. “Sister, it’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said. “But with all due respect, this is none of your concern. I will pass the information onto Mother Akshas, who can inform you as she sees fit.”
If Sohaila minded that she was speaking to a living legend, she didn’t show it. Now that was all Falmina. Perhaps she hadn’t entirely changed. “With all due respect, this is my concern as much as it is yours.” Without missing a beat, she removed one of the pins tucked into her hair to let the veil fall to one side, revealing the scars on her face. Tension was etched around her eyes, but her voice was even, her chin high as she spoke. “I spent some time with Sidran, and he now has one of my sisters. I wish to bring her home.”
“Sohaila, please,” Kaldir said. His gaze flitted to Velati, who frowned slightly at her.
She ignored him. “Kordari, I sat on the Sapphire Circle until this man murdered my guards and kept me prisoner for over a year. I am not a hesitant novice who does not understand the world beyond these walls. I believe I can contribute to this discussion.”
“Sohaila—” Kaldir began.
Velati chuckled. “Your boldness is refreshing. You can stay, provided that you understand what is said here is sensitive, and not fodder for gossip.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I do not have time for gossip,” she replied. She glanced at Virnan. “Please wait for me down the hall.”
“Sister?” Virnan asked.
She gestured broadly around the room. “I think I’m in good hands,” she said. As requested, her bodyguard exited the room, pulling the heavy wooden doors closed behind him. She carefully tucked the pin back into her hair, securing the veil over her scars again. Clever, opportunistic girl. “Thank you.”
Velati sank into a chair at the other end of the table. “Al-Serra indicated that Sidran is planning to attack somewhere in the north, and that he may have another army in addition to the Aesdar. If he’s going north from the Shattered Cradle, I can only assume he plans to attack Ironhold or Farath.” He looked to Kaldir. “The Firestorm gave us orders. We are to follow Sidran’s trail. For that matter, your orders haven’t changed. The Scalebreakers are to neutralize the Aesdar, and take Sidran if you have the chance.”
“Then we should go to the Shattered Cradle,” Kaldir said, heart thumping.
Velati nodded. “We’ll scout it first. If he has an army, we’ll have to return to Farath to regroup, but we need the intel first. Dawnblaze, will your men be ready to move by tomorrow?”
“Most of them,” he said. “I’ll order the rest to report back to Farath.”
Velati turned to Sohaila. “You said you spent time with Sidran, and Dawnblaze said you worked with the Aesdar. What exactly did you do?”
Her eyes drifted down, then back up. “He…he took me and forced me to use my power. I helped the Aesdar transform. I also worked on protecting people from their effects.”
For the first time, he saw a glint of anger in Velati’s eyes, going cold. “You used their blood magic? To help him?”
“Indirectly, yes,” she said. “My goal was to help them transform without going insane. The first generation of his Aesdar were broken shells. It was cruel beyond belief. I helped them shift with their minds intact. I also discovered how to reawaken the soulstruck. Without elixi
r, I may add.” Her eyes drifted to Kaldir.
Marlena’s jaw dropped. She and Velati exchanged a long look. “How?”
“We can discuss how later,” Velati said. “Did he ever allude to attacking Farath or Ironhold, or even that he had another army?”
She shook her head. “He was secretive. His people worship him, so he just told them where to go and what to do when it was time. Only a few people were in his inner circle.”
“Sounds about right,” Marlena said. Sohaila’s brow lifted. “I used to be one of them. Long story.”
“I’ve heard of you,” Sohaila replied. “But I figured he had something big planned. Based on what you all have told me, he took several of the Aesdar to Farath, several more to attack the Stormflight, and several more here to Greenspire. Even with his losses, there were still more than a dozen standing, most of whom escaped the Silent Orchard.” She shrugged. “Why hold them in reserve if he had no further plans?”
Velati gave her an appreciative nod. “Agreed.”
“He told everyone that we—they were headed north,” she said. “The Shattered Cradle is north, but so are Ironhold and Farath. If I was trying to destroy the Kadirai, I would attack one of those places, if not both.”
“I’d like to talk more to you about your research,” Velati said. “But for now, we need to move. Perhaps you can meet us in Farath in a few weeks, if you’re willing to travel.”
She shook her head. “I’d like to come with you to the Shattered Cradle.”
“Really, now?”
“The Arik’tazhan once took the Marashti into battle. The Lightweavers of Mara are as legendary to us as you are to the Kadirai,” she said. Kaldir’s heart thumped at her boldness. This was the old Falmina, whose unruly tongue often outpaced her common sense.