by Talis Jones
A smile teased Xiomara’s lips. “I admit I have been a bit bored lately.”
“And we owe Titus a favor,” Alek grumbled under his breath.
“An army, you say? It’ll be just like the old days, eh Alek?” she winked in Alek’s direction, which he returned with a wry smile.
“Yes only this time we won’t be mere sheep on the field,” he directed this demand at Eisen.
Eisen eyed them carefully. He gave a sharp nod of approval. “Xiomara will be my second in command and you, Aleksander, will be my third.” The pair smiled and each reached out to clasp Eisen’s hand in promise. “Well now that that’s been decided how about you tell me exactly who I just hired?”
Xiomara crossed her legs and leaned back into the lopsided couch. “We will carry out the job we are paid to perform. But if we take a liking to you we are loyal to a fault. I must warn you, we don’t like many people. But worry not, you have plenty of power and coin, we will not stray nor bite the hand that feeds us.”
“Even so I would very much like to know a bit about you.”
Alek’s face flashed with confusion. “Why does it matter to you? Our word is good, trust Titus if you don’t trust us, which would be a wise choice I admit.”
Eisen’s eyebrows rose at the man’s defensive tone. “I do trust Titus. Titus trusts you and therefore so do I. I simply hate the idea of this being nothing but a cold business transaction. I’m not saying we have to be friends but I’d like to know something besides your names.”
“Hmm,” murmured Xiomara quietly. Her eyes scrutinized Eisen for a silent moment searching. Whatever she saw freed some of the tension in her shoulders and allowed a small smile to alight her hard face. “Alright then. My name is Xiomara. Although Alek calls me Mara. I was born in Llyr on a horse ranch. His name is Aleksander, I call him Alek, and he was born in Aztlan to a blacksmith. We met in Mordréda at the age of seventeen when we were summoned for our two-year conscription in the Crown’s army.
“We got along, neither of us wanted to join our families’ businesses and so after our release we moved to Ailill. Since then we’ve spent six years acquiring skills in illusion, legerdemain, and combined it with our military training dumping us in a bountiful career as mercenaries. There was a time when we would be unnecessary but generations of corrupt rulers have stirred up a nice little niche. I have a feeling if you succeed on this little rebellious quest of yours that we will soon be out of a job…but I’m not sure I wouldn’t mind retiring.”
As Xiomara spoke in her midnight voice Eisen noticed Aleksander’s rapt attention towards her but he failed to decipher the emotion behind it. He smiled and nodded in thanks for her sharing. It was nice to meet people and not simply names.
“Quid pro quo,” she demanded lightly fixing him with a stare that dared him to argue.
“My name is Geoffrey Verdandi, but I am called Eisen. I became Adrianna’s foster brother in Boston. I died at the age of ten when Titus brought me to Oneiroi and I dragged Adri with me. I made a deal with Titus, I was gifted with magic and my body aged eight years.”
Aleksander made a face. “Just your body? I’m sure that left your mind rather…disoriented.”
Eisen smiled to himself. “Well some of Titus’ instincts and memories transferred into me, a convenient side-effect for which I am grateful. I assure you I am not the ten-year old boy I was.”
“This magic you possess,” began Xiomara. “What exactly can you do with it?”
A devilish grin pulled at his lips. “Anything.”
CHAPTER FIVE
In the Silas Mountains at the heart of Silvanus an aged man wrapped in tortured robes and a head bare except for a ragged unkempt sprout of filthy blond hair dragged himself through the woods. Despite the approach of spring the mountains showed no remorse. Patches of snow gathered at the trees’ roots, frost imprisoned the grass, and ice glinted treacherously in the sun stubbornly refusing to melt under its spell.
He stumbled from tree to tree clinging to each trunk to hold his weak frame up by shaking arms. With his strength almost gone and the winter unrelenting he struggled to break free from his deep grief and with every passing cry of his stomach, creak of his bones, or wrench of his heart he fell further and further into the abyss. Blundering around the woods for months reeling from shock he had survived off of denial and instinct alone. But now it had passed. The reality had forced itself upon him and slowly he lost the ability to carry on. He had not eaten in days, his clothes no longer provided any warmth, and his clear mind found little comfort under the weight of the crippling guilt.
Suddenly his foot caught on a tree root and he collapsed. Lifting his face from the chilling sting of the frost-covered ground he crawled forwards on bloody hands and knees dragging his weary body towards the trunk of the unsympathetic tree.
Chapped and broken lips whispered breathlessly in unspoken prayer. His fire at last extinguished, his body collapsed becoming naught but frozen flesh and regret while images danced behind his eyelids and delicate drips from the melting ice-encased branches collected upon his eyelashes and ran warmly down his cheeks.
A gentle wind whispered through the trees but its sound did not come from grazing through the branches but from within itself. The air was warm and kind and where it blew hope followed.
Out from the shadows of the falling night a little girl walked slowly, her eyes as wide as the moon and filled with a mixture of concern and fear. Peaceful walks in the beautiful forest were a favorite pastime of hers when she could visit them for her home was nothing but steel and chemicals that choked her spirit while the smog-filled sky held her down to endure it. She shuffled closer to the slumped figure and her form shimmered neither solid nor sheer. Was the man dead?
Carefully the girl reached out to touch his face when a sudden broken whimper broke through his lips. Her hand jerked back in fright but with a deep breath she clenched her fists and calmed her trembling lips.
“You will not die tonight,” she whispered firmly. And in a blink she had vanished.
CHAPTER SIX
“So good of you to join us, Medusa,” greeted Morrigan with a kind smile although a curious hatred lingered in her eyes. Sa replied with a stiff bow before striding lazily across the pale blue and gold breakfast room slinking into the chair opposite Jack’s. Beside her Adrianna stirred sleepily turning to give her a warm smile while Jack’s stony face offered nothing but disapproval. Sa cocked her head at him challenging him to scold her.
Laying the linen napkin upon her lap she eyed the fresh food spread out before her. Quickly filling her plate with crisp grapes, cold chicken, and some buttered toast Sa pulled her full focus onto her meal ignoring the four sets of eyes watching her cavalier movements.
Prince Addar quickly took it upon himself to redirect Morrigan’s attention. Grasping her hand gently she slowly turned to him allowing his gesture to subdue her thoughts. Adrianna returned to her bacon wishing that Sa would stop nettling Sarai’s patience and at least pretend she liked her, after all that was what she had been instructed to do. Granted her and Sarai had become friends over their long journey while Sa had…well now that she thought about it Sa had never made any indication of liking Sarai. Still, everything would be easier if she didn’t go out of her way to inject the atmosphere with tension every chance she got.
Life since Sarai’s reign began had become a complicated little dance. Jack was constantly on edge as if waiting for Sarai to snap and Sa didn’t make anything easier. Neither of them trusted Sarai. And yet Adrianna couldn’t help but hold on to the friendship they had forged. Sarai’s behavior had perhaps become a bit more austere and yet she had never been a sentimental person to begin with. Adrianna attributed her cool demeanor to the stress of being Crown and to the loss of Shaun Omri whose body was found battered against the cliff rocks having presumably slipped from drunkenness. She had hoped that Sarai’s recent attachment to Addar would have thawed her burdened spirit but instead it seemed to drive her to fluctua
ting extremes.
A silly string of giggles broke Adrianna’s thoughts and she looked up to see Sarai feeding Addar sweet strawberries. The gooey cooing sounds and soppy look they were giving each other almost made Adrianna regurgitate her breakfast. Glancing over at Jack she met his gaze and was glad to see that he also had a slightly revolted look on his face. His mouth twitched as laughter sung both ways across their souls’ bond and she had to fight to maintain strict composure over her own features. Sa, meanwhile, was actively ignoring them all.
“I’ll excuse myself, if you don’t mind mi suverenya. I’ve got a full morning ahead of me with training the new recruits,” declared Sa in a chipper tone.
Morrigan’s head snapped in her direction and she matched her in lightness of tone. “Of course. I myself have an extremely busy day ahead.” Sarai stood up to depart. “And Jack? I’d like to speak with you later.” Jack merely nodded his head but Sa’s face brimmed with curiosity as the Crown left.
“Hey Sarai didn’t give me anything to do,” winked Adrianna.
Jack gave a dangerous grin. “Then let’s put you to work.”
Only twenty minutes in and Adrianna was already beginning to tire. Jack was in a particularly brutal mood this morning putting her through an exhausting rotation of exercises. Always excited to begin she always quickly forgot why. Since the execution of Novo Myrddin, Adrianna insisted on being properly trained and Jack proved very enthusiastic at the idea.
Finding time whenever Adrianna wasn’t needed he put her through all sorts of fitness exercises, upping their intensity just before she could grow complacent. He had her running miles, lifting heavy objects, jumping steps, lunging across hallways, dashing up and down stairwells, balancing on beams, and a number of other tortuous feats. When she wasn’t tasked with fitness training she either took up weapons or sparring in a ring.
As much as she wanted the results all of this work would create it was far too easy to dream of giving up. Jack was tough and relentless, exhausting her every spare hour but he never pushed Adrianna past breaking, he wanted her strong not broken. Forcing her to find a will to keep going despite the angry protest of her muscles was just another lesson she had gained over these past few months.
Finally completing her 300th Russian twist she allowed her body to collapse limply upon the dewy grass. “I. Hate. You,” she panted.
Jack smiled smugly. “I know. Ready for some circuits?” A whistle pierced the air.
“Ha!” cried Adrianna smiling.
“Lucky save.” Extending a hand he helped haul Adrianna to her feet and handed her a bottle of water. She drank greedily as they made their way towards the barracks. Soldiers could be heard roaring and grunting in the distance leaving their squat rustic quarters eerily quiet. Slipping between barracks eight and nine they found Sa waiting for them.
“Looks like you owe me one,” teased Sa at the sweaty sight that stood before her.
“5 miles, 20 push-ups, 300 Russian twists. I’m dead,” declared Adrianna slumped against the rough wooden wall.
“You’ve done more than that before,” accused Jack. “We didn’t even finish this morning’s exercise set.”
“I hate you, Fenwick.”
Shaking his head he turned back towards Sa. “How much time have we got?”
“Should be fine. Melanthios is putting them through some group exercises. He won’t notice I’m gone for a while amidst all that chaos.” Sa let out a deep breath. “I think it’s time I go. We need to quit guessing, theorizing, and dancing along the fence. We need to know what Eisen is planning and if anyone can contact him it’ll be Abel.”
“You’ll lose your asylum. You won’t be able to come back if you even make it out,” reminded Adrianna worriedly.
“I know.”
“Maybe just wait a little longer—“
“If I have to stay here one more damn day I’ll go insane,” snapped Sa firmly. “All we have are rumours and that one note telling you nothing but to expect him at Sarai’s party. He told you arguing with him would keep you in Morrigan’s good graces and to simply trust him. Well the rumors get louder every day and yet your brother remains silent. We have to know what he’s planning, what the Whispers are planning. Until then we are stuck in Morrigan’s dollhouse.”
“She’s right,” rumbled Jack’s deep voice. “We need to know what’s going on out there.”
“I’ve heard the rumors, you know. You don’t talk about it in front of me but I know you discuss it and it worries me too. He was so changed when I saw him that night and not just in appearance…what if he isn’t my brother anymore?” Hesitant fear roiled in her eyes but Adrianna kept her gaze locked upon Sa’s. “I know your gift allows you to find out the truth and you will find it out. Do not hide it from me when you do.”
Sa reached out clasping Adrianna’s forearm tightly in solemn promise. “I will leave when opportunity presents itself. There will be no time for goodbyes.” She turned and gave Jack a hard pat on the arm in farewell.
“And what might you be doing here?” The trio startled at the intruding voice. Ginger hair and a thick build revealed General Sam Melanthios approaching them with the stern swagger of a soldier born and raised. “I believe you’re supposed to be assisting me with the recruits, Whisper. And you, Adrianna, I am surprised to see you here. The military quarters are off-limits to civilians.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” apologized Adrianna honestly. She might have guessed she wouldn’t be allowed near the soldiers but she hadn’t technically known. With a quick glance at her friends she marched herself back to the castle irritated at being scolded but glad for a bath.
“Get back to your posts,” growled Melanthios. Sa and Jack returned a nodded salute and moved to leave but Sam threw out an arm keeping Jack from passing. “The Crown wants to see you after dinner.” He breathed out a soft ominous laugh.
Sarai had presumably forgotten about Sam in the dungeons leaving him to nearly starve for almost two months before remembering his presence. Forced to sit in a cell with a bucket of his own filth sharing a space with rats, crumbs of bread, and the slow constant drip of water from a gap in the cell’s ceiling. His stint in prison had leeched out the last of his kindness leaving nothing but a man with few beliefs but to those beliefs he clung on even more tightly.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Once evening fell Jack made his way to the private office of the Crown. Noting the curious lack of guards in this hall he raised his fist delivering two sharp knocks upon the oak door before entering. Sitting behind an onyx desk in an ornately carved chair waited Sarai. Her hair was woven intricately through her silver spiked crown. She had had several crowns made for her since assuming the throne but he hadn’t seen her wear the unity crown since the coronation. Her sea-green eyes held his tightly and no smile lifted her cold petal-pink lips.
“Close the door,” she ordered, her voice a deep silky command.
Jack obeyed. Clasping his hands behind his back where his fingers twitched with desire to hold a blade he addressed the Crown matching her even tone. “What is it you wished to speak with me about, mi suverenya?”
“You know who I am. Who I really am. You know my name, my face, my story, my intentions.” Morrigan’s eyes never left his own piercing black gaze.
“I’m afraid you overestimate me.”
Sarai leapt from her seat, rage and accusation burning through her veins and twisting her face. “You know who I am!” she barked, demanding a confession.
“No, I don't.” Jack remained a stone, careful not to stoke her anger.
Tilting her head her eyes flickered with disbelief. Seating herself back down with a haughty air she gave him a taunting smile. “Perhaps she never told you. Very well, a hint then.” Leaning forwards she whispered, “This is the third time I’ve bathed in blood to rule these very halls.”
A crease formed upon Jack’s brow as her words slowly sunk in. His mind raced trying to find meaning and then suddenly— But how could
she not have told him? He was in Ailill when she arrived but he knew the stories. Oh yes, he knew her. He knew the demon watching him closely and it only strengthened his resolve. He would not play her little games and he would certainly not play into her arrogant vanity.
“I’m sorry. Your words mean nothing to me. Are you not Princess Sarai Morrigan of Aztlan, now ruler of Quidel and Crown of the Three Kingdoms?”
His calm politeness chafed her. Scowling she hissed, “I am Cassandra Böcklin. The one who slaughtered the Whispers before you could betray me. The one who sank my teeth into Oneiroi before you could cast me from it. You thought you got rid of me but I came back.”
Jack Cromwell smiled, “Oh yes, that’s right. Well, they say third time's the charm.” His smile twisted like he won something. Leaning forwards until their noses were less than a foot apart he sneered, “I know who you are, Cassandra. I just wanted to hear you admit it.” Fury glowed in her eyes and she spat out a growl in disgust pushing away from him. “I am curious though. You evidently played the part of Sarai Morrigan exceedingly well but even so, why not use your magic? Seems a much easier and quicker way to seize back the throne you carved from Hell.”
She seethed at the insult. “I could have used my remaining scraps of power to maintain my throne but it would have been a waste of effort, too many had already been turned against me. This time had to be different. This time I had to earn the throne, I had to inherit it, I had to be given the throne.