“How is...everything?” Arria said as she trailed a pointed look over his various injuries.
“I need my stitches taken out.” Riah now looked over Arria and found that she too didn't look all that sharp. An enormous bruise marredher left cheekbone. “What happened to you?”
Arria waved a hand. “Took a tumble.” She rose and picked up Riah’s parchment and pencil. She carried it while they walked back into the fortress.
Riah had expected to find the dining room brimming with cloaked Shadow Bearers, but instead, he counted only four heads besides his own. Leviathan was sitting at the head of the table in the dusty dining hall with Glista perched lazily on his lap. And then there was Arria to their left, a cup of tea already in hand. And then the last figure. He laughed. “How did you do it, Leviathan? How did you convince one of the most worthy Spirit Follower to join our ranks?” Riah’s eyes flickedto Leviathan who had just slipped his hand around Glista’s waist with a coy smile lifting his lips.
Owen Edrun slouched at the table, wearing a grim expression. He seemed almost...afraid. A flame of satisfaction ignited in Riah’s chest. He barred his arms over his chest and remained standing.
“So you do know him?” Arria questioned, motioning towards Owen.
Owen broke in with, “Somewhat. We had an...encounter of some sort.”
“You mean when you and your band of homeless wanderers killed my father and all our allies after you dumped poison down my throat and” Riah began.
Leviathan cut in. “He is with us now, despite his previous alliances. And you will respect him. He has been Marked before you, Riah, for he has proved his alliance further than even you have.” Riah did not reply. He only looked icily in the Shadow Bearer’s direction. Then at Glista, but he quickly looked away, for her eyes were filled with fury. Fury he knew he had not caused but…
Finally, Riah slouched into his seat beside Arria and fixed his hardened stare on Owen Edrun himself. “Tell me, Edrun, how much did you have to ruin Camaria in bed to learn what you wanted to know about the Crown? That is why you’ve been with them so long, isn’t it?” Riah laughed, the sound sharp. Arria’s eyes had widened at the question while Leviathan had grown a slow grin and Glista’s eyes twinkled in a feline manner.
Owen’s jaw clenched, but he did not utter a word.
“And yet, here you are without her. A traitor.”
Finally, Owen spoke his voice calm but seething. “Yes, I suppose I am quite like you, then. For you did betray your own. Saffira, wasn’t it? Yes, she’s had it quite rough since we entered Mingroth.”
Riah’s breath caught and his heart stumbled, but he did not reveal it on his face or when he spoke. “I was never allied with her in the first place.” Lies. Like poison on his tongue. He swallowed it, and it sank in his stomach.
Owen only sighed as if annoyed. Silence passed long enough that Riah began to wonder why he had come to this meal at all. And when Glista, the only one in the room who had yet to speak, turned towards Owen. Riah felt her voice as ice in his bones. “Tell us, Owen Edrun, heir of Nazeria, all you have learned.” And so it was told of Terra and her death, Owen’s deal with Leviathan to get her back and then...his memory blanked. He searched it for endless moments while Riah and Arria stared at him expectantly.
Arria’s eyes widened in disbelief. “They wiped your memory, didn’t they? With our own magic. H-how did they get it?” she turned to Leviathan whose expression had turned to ice.
Riah’s brows lifted. “We have magic that can wipe memories?”
Glista was shaking her head, her eyes steel. “We, as Shadow Bearers do not, but some clans of Shedim still have it in their possession. But they are few and their supply small…”
“So someone very stupid, brave, and clever managed to wipe his memory?” Arria asked.
Glista went to answer but Leviathan was signaling for silence as he turned to Owen. “Do you remember speaking with me in Mingroth?”
Owen nodded. “But nothing after leaving.”
“You led us to them, in Mirabelle,” Glista spoke up. “But they vanished...again.”
Owen nodded. “They are good at that.”
“So where have they gone now?”
“No doubt in Nazeria,” Riah offered, his chest lighting insidethat heactuallyhadsomethingto contribute. “Since Owen is their heir and they have been aligned with the queen there for some years, it would provide them a safe haven.”
“But is far too obvious,” Leviathan added. “It’s as if they are...telling us to come to them.”
Riah turned to Owen, another question on his mind. “How many of them are already dead?”
“Mista Briar,” Owen said quietly. The name drifted through the room, sounding sweet and sorrowful simultaneously. Riah searched his memory for the name, for it sounded familiar.
“You mean, the bright young girl who stayed in Gnosi with Camaria and her sisters?” Riah’s brows lifted. “That’s it? She’s the only one?”
“Shewas just a child,” Owen bit out. “But yes, shewasthe only one that died in Mingroth. At Silva’s own hand. Most of the Spirit Followers are alive from the attack on Mirabelle.”
“BecauseElyon savedthem,” Arriamurmured. Leviathan noddedin grim, furious agreement. “But...not allofthesurvivors of Mirabelle are Spirit Followers. Many of them are not, and some are even previous rioters against the Spirit Follower Royalty. But they, too, must have gone to Nazeria. It would only make sense if they wished to remain safe.”
Glista’s mouth was twisting into a sharp smile. “Not that they are safe, now that we know. But perhaps...some of them, the previous rioters that is, would be willing to aid us in infiltrating the nation.”
Leviathan was nodding.
“There is one thing I do not understand,” Riah said through the silence which passed. “We have the four of us under Leviathan's leadership. And there is to be seven. So who are the other three?”
Arria answered. “Leviathan has told you about the two that were accidentally marked, correct?”
Riah nodded. “One which he found but has now escaped again. And the other he has never been able to find. So there are six. But what about the seventh?”
Glista’s icy stare was pinned upon him as her feline voice rippledthrough theroom. “Haven't you heard the stories? Of the sea monster who roams the northern waters. The one with seven heads sprouting to devour his prey?”
“Minthrio…” Riah breathed, remembering the image carved in both the tunnels beneath this very fortress and in one of the temples in Gnosi. The stories had been told to him as a child to fill him with thrills and fears before he slept.
“Minthrio, Middle Continental Speech meaning Leviathan in theInfernal Speech,” Owen said dully. Riah’s brows rose. He had been in allegiance with this legend for months...
“Leviathan is his own head. And we are the six others,” Arria said at last.
Riah’s eyes widened. “And why, pray, did anyone never tell me?”
Arria seemed to read his thoughts. “He wanted you to believe there was more competition than there really was.” And so he knew the seven: himself, Glista, Owen, and Arria. The Scarlet Spy and the Stranger. And Leviathan.
“We will venture to Nazeria when we are prepared,” Leviathan said at last. “And we will bring the Scarlet Spy back into our allegiance. She is ready to come back. She has played spy among them long enough.”
Following their evening meal, Riah returned to the gallery
without noticing that Arria was following him until she had closed the door behind them. “I haven’tbeen in here since I met” she halted as her eyes caught sight of the paintings strewn across the walls. Six were of dragons, three were of young women. “Why the hell did you paint me?”
Riah shoved the slight embarrassment of her discovery away. He shrugged. “I’ve painted the people who’ve impacted me. You…” he swallowed the hollow, aching feeling that rose to his throat. “My mother…” he paused to gaze at the first paint
ing he had done before arriving at this fortress. “I haven't painted Leviathan yet,” he finished.
“What was she like?” Arria said softly as she stepped towards thecanvas ofRiah’s mother. “Sheseems kind. Youloved her, didn’t you? I can tell by how carefully you painted this.”
“How do you know she was a...was?” “Your eyes,” Arria answered as she sl ipped her gaze to lock with his. “They are hollow when you think of her.”
Silence fell between them until Riah rummaged enough courage to speak of the painting. “I did love her. I still do. As a son should love a mother who gave up everything for him, for herself, and for a...creature that did not love her in return.”
“Your father,” Arria murmured.
“He cast her aside for mistresses. He never wished to marry her in the first place but did so to secure some alliance with whomever.” Riah rubbed the bridge of his nose with thumb andforefinger. “Andwhen shebegan goingmad...he couldn't see it and thus, didn’t do anything to stop it.”
“I am sorry,” Arria said softly as she turned from the painting. Sincerity threaded her tone and was lit in her eyes. She slipped her gaze to the next painting, and Riah stiffened as she asked, “And who is this?”
Light brown hair cascaded to the woman’s breasts, and doe-colored eyes peered from a honeybrown face. “She was my best friend,” he murmured finally.
Arria turned from the painting. “She did not die, did she?” It was a statement, not a question. Riah nodded slowly. Arria drew close to him and asked, “What is her name?”
Riah’s voice was husky. “Saffira...Saffira Adriel. I called her Ira or Saff depending on my mood.”
“A pretty name.”
“Yes.” Tears glistened in Riah’s eyes.
“You loved her.”
“I still do.”
Arria was quiet for a moment, allowing the words to sink into him. “I’ve never seen you so...cutthroat as you were tonight. You must really despise Owen…”
Riah’s glaresnappedin her directionwas answer enough. Arria shrugged. “It just makes me wonder. About why you ever came here in the first place.” She sank against the back of the sofa behind them and sighed. “You’ve told me it was to escape your homeland, to escape your father. But your father is dead, and seeking out ‘your destiny’ isn’t answer enough.”
“I...I don’t know…” Riah said slowly. His face fell into his hands. “I don’t know anything, Arria,” he whispered.
Her comforting hand squeezed his shoulder. “I know. Which is why I’m asking. We’re goingto risk our very lives, Riah. And soon. You need to know why you are doing all of this before you do.”
“You mean...before I am marked?” Helifted his wavering gaze to meet hers. Arria nodded. “I have a plan,” Riah said after silence had settled between them for a long moment. “If we are to attack Nazeria, I have an idea that may weaken them.”
Arria turned towards him in interest, the firelight of the gallery flickering on her tan skin. “We kill the remaining Lumenbirds, their allies from what used to be the southernmost realm in Mirabelle.”
“Do you mean the birds who were born of the ash and stars? And have sparks in their wings?” Arria inquired excitedly. “I thought them a mere legend.”
“They are real,” Riah replied grimly.
“Why do we not convince them to align with us?”
“Because they will not change their allegiance. Not when so many of those Spirit Followers are from what used to be Cinis Lumen.”
“A shame,” Arria said with a sigh. “But a brilliant idea. You must tell Leviathan.”
“I already have. You, Glista, and I depart in the morning for the south.”
Riah knew that Mirabelle had been utterly destroyed, but it still
came as a shock when he flew on Aminon’s back over the ruins. The plain stretched long and gray. Empty. His heart wrenched from his chest.
“I grew up here. I was dying to leav e but did not want to return to...this.” The mountains seemed stiller than they ever did. Even the rivers upon which he had sailed so many times were frozen, not by ice but by their own will it seemed. And who had survived?
The ache built in his chest. Gnosi had been smashed to ruins. “It looks like Enboria just...without the sun,” he heard Arria say from behind him. Gamgee was with them but was transporting Glista who had made it quite clear she would ride alone. Zoka flew just behind him. She would be the one to bring them home if one of them became injured. She was still too weak to use her magic again. But Aminon could. And Riah had yet to witness the breadth of his power.
A dozen of Glista’s wolves were already bounding across the terrain of Mirabelle towards the south. They had been transported on two different ships across Voria which were both in Leviathan’s possession. Leviathan, it seemed, ownedan entire fleet of ships. Not that anyone was surprised.
Riah’s eyes widened when they passed over wha t was once the Royalty Realm. Dying roses lay scattered for miles and miles… Arria’s gasp brushed his ear. Her grip tightened on his sides. “Silva did this,” Riah thought grimly.
They did not see Imber Fel or Medulla as they continued their flight south, for these two former realms were either on the far west or far east. And Riah did not wish to see them. Dusk was shown in a burst of sunlight near where the sky met the earth when the volcanic lands came into view. “Monrothiare...forgotten.” That was what he would name the painting when this image would not leave his mind later.
Although this realm seemed the least destroyed, Riah felt more hollow as they neared. The south was desolate. Forgotten and weary with a score of Lumenbirds circling idly over the ruins. Guilt pierced Riah’s heart. Slaying these noble creatures was unjust. They were innocent. “But we must make this sacrifice. They are a weapon we can’t use and must be destroyed.”
He clenched his jaw as if resolute in this execution. They would not turn back now. Gamgee had taken a dive with Glista urging him on. The wolves were seen in the tall meadow grasses bordering what was once Cinis Lumen. The creatures were set to strike, their teeth bared, eyes alert, and ears perked. Gamgee and Glista landed in the grass on silent feet, and the latter signaled. The wolves charged.
Riah saw every movement of the white canines. He heard the mournful cry of a Lumenbird just before it was slashed at the neck with claws. The cluster of birds had been pounced on. A few had flown into the air while creating terrible screams. Their wings beat against the air, creating sparks. The birds which had already been in the air were scattering. “My turn,” Riah muttered. Aminon dove, fire spraying before him. When the dragon had swooped towards the ground, Arria was off in an instant and vaulting for Gamgee.
Riah drew his sword as Arria was now doing. Another Lumenbird cried as its wings caught fire and it plummeted towards the ground. Sparks filled the air. The heat of Aminon’s breath surroundedRiah, scorchinghis skin. Both Riah and Aminon barrelled on. Riah’s sword swung out to catch another bird across its abdomen. Hit another’s wing. They fell, hurtling through the air, catching fire as they plummeted. Arria, too, was striking birds as Gamgee barrelled into them.
Riah did not notice that his eyes had glazed over until the view before him was blurred. A navy sky sprinkled with stars and flying sparks, blazing fire, floating feathers. Feathers of ash, crumbling towards the ground. An ache spread across Riah’s chest, through his arms and into his fingers and legs until he was trembling. Whether it was the guilt or the adrenaline or both, he could not say
With a wild cry, he leaped from Aminon’s back, catching another Lumenbird around its neck, strangling it as they fell. The bird’s black, beady eyes locked to Riah’s gaze. Its beak flewopen, snapping at Riah, but he heldfirm to thebird’s throat, cuttingoff all air. Thebird’s head sagged to theside, andRiah shook it from his grasp. The bird hit the ground.
Riah would have hit it too had Aminon not swooped beneath him. Riah gripped Aminon’s iron collar as they came towards the ground where Glista was standing.
> Her wolves were feasting on burnt bird. The smell was horrid in the air, and Riah tasted his own blood in his mouth. Several yards off, Arria slid off, and she walked as fast as she could in her exhaustion towards him. Feathers of ash and sparks continued to float from the sky, surrounding Riah with the remains of a once great breed of bird. When Arria had approached them, she slipped her gaze to Riah’s. Her stare was hollow, vacant. She swallowed. “What have we done?” she seemed to ask.
Riah clenched his fists. The world was a wasteland of ash. The sparks were dying out, and the sun had vanished. Even the stars, which had been there before and were so radiant in the south, had diminished. The world was black; scattered with the remains of nobility. The loyal servants of Adalina Ardor and Cinis Lumen had passed. The wind stilled before it rose in wild howls.
Riah saw the birds hurtling through the air, their piercing screams ringing in his ears all the way home. “Hylsia...sacrifice.” The next painting. And it wasn’t in the Infernal Speech but that which he spoke since he could speak. He only dismissed them and the sickening feeling that surrounded them when Leviathan told them where they would be headed next. And it wouldn't be just the four of them and their beasts. But Owen too.
And the army summoned from the very north, from the island where Lucius himself dwelled.
Fifty
Camsnatched the pipe from Peter’s hand. He cried out and
reached for it. A laugh bubbled from her throat. “You haven’t stopped playing on it in days…” “I do not see what theproblem with that is.” Peter caught her around the waist and forced her down onto the wall. He struggled a moment with grasping the blue, wooden pipe from her clutch. When he had it in his possession again, Cam, laughing, scooted next to him. They were seated, bundled in furs, atop the wall dividing Nazeria from Mirabelle. Snow-capped mountains stretched before them. Peter’s hands were stiff around the instrument.
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