She pictured monsters peering at them from walls and open windows. Cam kept her eyes trained on the black, rather powdery substance prodded by Ilea’s foot. “Wait,” she said, reaching forward. She snatched at it. “Charcoal,” she muttered, watching it stain her fingers. A light blinked in her brain. She stumbled over loose stones to the wall of what appeared to be a house. Where the light revealed stone, she dragged the charcoal in various curves so as to create the vague figure of a dove.
She clutched the charcoal in her hand as she bounded through the alley as if on air, her movement silent. Ilea pursued. The moving figures ahead continued through the never-ending alleyway. Camaria remained concealed in the shadows. At times, she dared step into the light to draw another dove. Ilea took a turn every once in a while. Seven were drawn by the point the three guards, who were still compelling her sisters along, broke into what appeared to be a courtyard. Cam could barely see them. They were only flickering shadows between narrow shafts of buildings.
Structures encircled the most enormous edifice yet. The houses of the city were miniscule in comparison to the stronghold erected before them. Hundreds of feet of stone rose into the air, acting as the foundation for the Queen of Poison’s home. Jagged rocks replaced trimmed alleyways. Only a small path was to be seen among them. Mountains of pointed rock jutted from the soggy ground.
Ilea, who had been trailing Cam, halted beside her. “It seems as though I have forgotten how high up the front door was,” shemurmured. But Cam was not listeningas shesoakedin the view of hundreds upon hundreds of tiny roses rising on vines over half of the stronghold. They splashed a dark crimson.
“Those roses do not die,” Cam muttered. Her memory flashed back to her former home in Medulla where Silva had placed vases of the same roses about the castle. Cam glanced at Ilea, but her companion said nothing. She only stared transfixed at the roses. Her throat bobbed.
“How does one reach such a place?” Cam wondered as her eyes trailed up the hundreds of feet of stone. She glanced at Ilea to see if she had any ideas. Ilea glanced back, her gaze growing concerned.
“Cam…” she started in a light voice.
“Yes?”
Ilea reached for Cam’s hand. “What you are about to see is the product of the Marking and...hundreds of years of practice.”
Cam’s brows furrowed in puzzlement. She watched Ilea swallow hard and look up at the steep incline with worried eyes. The darker woman took a deep breath and extended her hands. Ilea’s eyes roll back intoher head. Her bodylurchedforward, her muscles tightening and jerking.
Ilea thrust her hands forward.
Something black and smoky crawled from her fingertips. Ilea cried out, the sound wrenching from her mouth. Cam made to reach for her, but what was climbing over the mountainside drew her attention away. The smoky turned solid and sharp.
Thorns.
A ladder of sorts she would create. So that their company could climb into Silva’s fortress unseen. Cam’s mouth dropped open as she watched the thorns crawl up, up, up out of sight. She heard a sharp gasp that snapped her attention from the thorninfested wall. Ilea was reeling back, a sheen of sweat on her face. Cam rushed forward and caught Ilea just before she fell to the ground. Ilea sagged in her arms as she pulled in long gulps of air. Cam moved hair from the woman’s cheek. “What has happened to you?” Cam breathed.
Ilea simply slipped her eyes shut. “I will be strong again in a moment. I just…”
“Rest,” Cam whispered. In her mind, she was considering the raw power in this woman’s veins. “I couldn’t have that sort of power.”
Finally, after a long moment, Ilea opened her eyes and rose from where Cam was holding her on the ground. “Are you sure” Cam started. She grasped Ilea’s arm as the woman tilted sideways.
Ilea nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.” She gave Cam a weak smile. “It used to be worse. A small feat such as this would have left me in bed for days.”
Cam’s brows rose. “A small feat?” She looked with alarm between the wall of thorns and the woman who had produced it.
Ilea only pulled in one more long breath and said, “Now we climb.”
The climb was arduous, to say the least. And when Fiera and Peter asked Cam about it later after they had made the same climb, Cam had told them she had done her best to remove it from her memory. It was sheer willpower and hope that got her up the mountain. The images of her sisters at the top played over and over with each pull of her arms and legs. The thorns were worse and the climb. Cam was torn and cut and bleeding by the time she reached the top.
Ilea reached it first and bent to pull Cam up by her arm. When Cam was finally on level ground, she lay flat and breathed deeply. She winced as she moved to sit up, for her legs and arms were more battered than she ever remembered them being before.
Cam looked up to find the mouth of the fortress gaping open. No guards were to be seen. The entire place was vacant. She registered chains, pulleys, small windows leading into pitch darkness and a flapping green and black flag upon the utmost tower. Silva’s stronghold was indeed magnificent. All of this...belonged to the woman who for so many years had simply managed a quaint castle in a far-off forest of the Medulla Realm in Mirabelle. “No...shewas orchestratingforherown kingdom.”
Cam gulped. The city was one nightmare, but this, even with the roses, was another, and yet still more alleyways delved into darkness surrounding the castle hundreds of feet below. The air from this altitude was no longer stifling. Cam found breathing to be less of a task. When she rose to her feet, she saw below her structures by the thousands spanning an expanse of the tumultuous valley. When the cities ended, trees rose in masses. And beyond the trees, was a world Cam had never before imagined.
She edged forward, still on her stomach. Her mouth dropped open at the sight. Blue light touched the horizon of a desert like land, crawling with a pointed stone, rising like towers. “What the hell,” she breathed. It was hell. Hell without the flames.
Ilea’s breath brushed her ear. “The Shadow Bearers’ territories,” she whispered. A moment later, she added, “We should wait here. Our company will soon follow.” Cam’s eyes moved to observe the place she found herself within. Arches formed high-reaching ceilings. These arches flew to the walls, forming what looked almost like the tunnel around her. The tunnel was yet another maze. One which her sisters had been led into no doubt. Footsteps echoed in the enormous room before her.
Every muscle in Cam’s body tightened. Her legs grew so still, she wasn’t sure she could move. Her neck felt too heavy when she moved it just enough towards the sound. Stricken with fear of what she might be confronted with, her eyes managed to sweep from the stairs to the front doorway of what appeared to be a throne room. Within the doorway of this room, stood a boy with wide staring eyes. He didn’t seem much older than four. “What illusion is this?” Cam murmured, her brows knitting together.
“He cannot see us,” Ilea murmured.
“Yes, yes hecan,”Camresponded, clutchingatIlea’s arm. The soft eyes of the young child locked with hers. He seemed to be...reading her. He tilted his head, the only movement aside from the one time he blinked his eyes.
Ilea was clutching Cam’s arm, her own eyes wider than that of her companion. “I just had the strangest feeling that everything has taken a sudden turn,” shebreathed. Instinctively, Cam looked back to the boy, but he had vanished.
Peter followed the drawn doves, the company trailing behind
him. Owen drew to his side. “Cam shouldn’t have come this way. Do you even know where you are headed?” Owen asked, eyeing Peter.
“They left signs.” He pointed to a doorpost and the crudely drawn dove with its wings spread east.
A pause intervened until Owen spoke up once again. “They departed from us several hours ago. It should almost be dawn.”
Peter tried not to sound too cynical when he spoke next. “Do you not think they can handle whatever dangers they cross on their own?” But even he wasn’t s
ure. He had seen Cam and her distant gaze. Something was off…
“She’s battling...something. Inside of her.”
Owen shrugged. “I barely know Ilea. But Cam...well, I’ve known her my whole life, and no matter how capable she is, I’d do anything to protect her.”
Peter nodded. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me that you care for her on a deeper level than that of just a friend she’s had her whole life.” He glanced sideways at Owen, who loomed a full head taller than himself.
“Not on that level,” Owen responded. “Cam is like a sister. You can understand that I amsure.” Hehuffed. “Ormaybe not. You left your sister behind.”
Peter stiffened. “To protect her, which is what you seem to be criticizing me for not doing for Cam.” He did not listen for Owen’s response and still, he was seeing Saffira sitting above the valley with her injured leg. He knew how Owen felt about doing anything to protect Cam. He would do the same for his sister. “That’s why I spent so many years away from her.”
Owen was speaking again but this time without any hint of malice in his expression. His eyes were wavering with unnamed emotions. “That sort of feeling was for her sister, Terra.”
“Oh…” was all Peter could think. He swallowed hard. The sister who had died. Another thing Cam and Owen grieved over together. “That must be why you were the only person she really wanted to see when she came back to the Royalty Realm.”
Owen nodded. “She had just told me about the...dealings Terra’s parents had had with…” Owen trailed off, but Peter watched as the young man’s hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. A sword he rarely used, Peter had come to find out. Owen preferred a crossbow. It was slung over his back.
Silence passed between them. Peter’s silence was one of someone who’d stepped too far. Owen’s was solemn, something clouding the already thick air.
“Weshouldn'thave letCam comethis way,”camea voice. Peter glanced behind him at Fiera who was casting a glare between himself and Owen.
“Cam can handle herself,” Caleb spoke up, “You know that.”
Peter saw Fiera jerk to a slower gait. Caleb glanced at her. “Is everything alright?”
She shook her head. “This nightmare, this hell, it’s like the Shadow Prison only worse. It...is too quiet.” Caleb said nothing, only laced his fingers between hers with a nod of his head.
Peter had expected her to tense, but she actually relaxed into Caleb’s touch. He shared a meaningful glance with Owen as the latter fought the upward tug of his lips before slapping a hand on Peter’s shoulder.
“If anything, it’ll be Caleb’s loud voice that will draw out the Shadow Bearers.” Owen’s eyes were smiling, but Peter’s mind was turning to what lay ahead. Looming before them, set against a now lava colored sky, stood an enormous slab of rock underneath a stronghold of poison.
“There,”Ilea pointed. “To the south are the Air and Fire
Shadow Bearers’ territories. Nothing seems to have changed in that direction.” Cam followed Ilea’s finger to the desert lands beyond the mass of forests. The large window from the room which they found themselves within made for a sufficient view of the lands beyond. They had crept into an offhand room so dusty it seemed it had not been entered in eons. Even Ilea did not recognize it. A spray of rusty orange collided with the black heavens, marked the making of dawn.
“Where are the other territories located?” Cam inquired, pushing herself to a straightened position.
“To thenorth,behindus, isaforest ofenormousexpanse. The earthen Shadow Bearers dwell there. The ones of water, however, possessed, and perhaps still do, a lake land not too far from where we were upon our attack yesterday.”
Cam nodded and fixed her gaze to just below them where a handful of cities were scattered, bordering the rock infested clearing. “They look so empty.” A breeze whispered through the window, rustling her hair.
“Most of the cities were attacked shortly before me and Daniel, our friend, left,” Ilea whispered. Her amber eyes were dimmed to something solemn and far off. Her black hair rustled about her face. Ilea did not brush it away. Instead, her eyes slipped shut.
Cam’s voice was just as low as her companion’s when she asked, “What happened?”
Ilea’s eyes werestill closedwhen shereplied. “Mostofthe people within the cities were innocent souls, a part of an evil ruling class controlling them. There was one night. I, along with others I had allied myself with, was gathered with the king and his subjects at a feast. They were all drunk. I had some wine myself.” Ilea crossed her arms and shifted her feet. Her eyes opened. “A handbegan writing on the wall in a foreign language. Only Daniel could read it.
“He read the words which were a prophecy of an attack to take place that night. The attackers ravaged the cities, having crept through the mines beneath. They murdered citizens of the cities. I remember seeing their corpses scattered about the streets when we made our escape. Careless the king was. Utterly careless, and ruthless too.”
She gulped as if to keep further memory at bay. “The leader of the barbarians became king that night. He held a coronation for himself and a feast with the remaining wine. The survivors from the cities were herded inside and tortured for their amusement until they died.”
Cam stepped forward, brushing Ilea’s arm. “You were one of them?”
She shook her head and released a ragged breath. “No...but Daniel was.” Cam stepped back, her arm falling limply to her side. She cracked a small smile. “The ‘king’ received punishment for his actions. She slew him in his sleep and rose to the throne.”
“Silva,” Cam breathed. Ilea nodded, finally turning to meet Cam’s gaze.
“But...you see, some believe it was Silva herself who orchestrated the whole event,” Ilea whispered. Her fingertips brushed Cam’s arm as she leaned in. “That she lured the barbarians in and had them kill her father. Or...at least very much hurt him. We don’t know that he died for sure.”
Cam swallowed hard. Silva was far more capable of treachery than she had ever imagined. And Terra...she was only a pawn in a larger game. A game invented from the bones of forgotten cities. A game invented in the ashes of Mingroth.
“She was a princess before that,” Ilea was saying, “She wasn’t evilbeforethebarbarianscameandlaidwasteto herland. At least, she didn’t seem so. Don’t mistake me, she wasn’t kind either. She had always been deadly and cunning from what I could remember. But...she had loved people, truly loved them.”
“Who?” Cam queried.
“I do not know, for certain. I never saw the woman she spoke of so fondly.” Ilea paused to swallow. “And she nearly loved me. As a friend. We were friends you see. We were nearly close enough for me to tell her things. About being cursed and all. That's why the roses...”
Ilea trailed off as if she were lost far off in those memories that now circled her mind. Cam turned once more to her own thoughts. She speculated what it would have been like to have been Silva during that time. “They came to Mirabelle to find the Crown. She wished to escape and the only way how…” Cam began.
“Was to please her master whom had put her here,” Ilea finished. “Silva was born here, but Leviathan chained her to this place.”
“Andnow, she’ll stop at nothingto pleasehim, to find the Crown and destroy the coming savior,” Cam added.
Ilea nodded. “She’s become what she despised in the barbarians for so long. Vengeance and hatred twisted her into a contortedmonster.” Silence driftedbetween them. AndCam was fractured. As if her chest had been glass and was now broken, the shards of what she thought she knew of the woman who had raised her sliced her open.
Her voice was a whisper when she turned once more to Ilea. “I thought Silva was far simpler than that. That she had come from a farmer’s family and had earned the trust and adoration of her neighbors enough to lead them. She was a common leader of farmers. Not...a queen of…” Cam waved her hand about the vicinity. “Of poison.”
�
�People with fierce ambitions are never what they seem. Especially when they are human, and their humanity has been used against them.” Cam felt Ilea’s words breathing through her very bones.
“They’ve arrived,” were Ilea’s next words.
Cam followed Ilea to a westerly positioned window. She peered from it to see the figures halting before the slab of stone far below them.
Ilea stepped past Cam to the window murmuring, “Help us, Elyon.”
Twenty
Her face was gaunt and pale.
He stumbled back as her hands reached out to snag at his shirt. “Riah…” her voice was a kiss of death, and her hands were nothing of the sure, steady ones he had watched fold flour into bread. They were shaking bones. Except...one finger from each hand was missing.
Her eyes were wide and filled with nothing of life. Blank. Like a sky that could not speak. “He’s coming...the Prince...he’s…” Her eyes darted to Riah’s neck. He followed her gaze.
To find two fingers fastened by string dangling from his neck. Her fingers. Panic fluttered in his chest. “Saffira…” he started, his voice pleading. But she was backing away, her eyes wide and pinned on her own two fingers worn at his neck. “I didn’t do it!” he screamed, the sound raking through his throat. Where had they come from? Who had cut off her fingers? Had he done it?
She was melting into the shadows now, fading into whatever darkness lay beyond her. He saw the talons emerge. He saw them grip Saffira by her arms. He saw the peering blue eyes over her shoulder and the pointed ears. The vague outline of ashcolored wings lifted about them.
She did not scream when she was jerked back. But Riah’s scream tore through his mouth to cut the air. And to wake him up.
Hours later, when Riah’s body had stopped shaking and his
mind had cleared, he decided that it was best he had awoken early so that when Arria finally returned from wherever she had ventured, he would be ready for training.
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