by Talis Jones
A sudden jealousy stabbed Cassandra's heart. Adrianna. Adrianna. She was nobody. She held no power, no magic, no unearthly beauty, no warrior strength or skill, no apparent genius. She was no one and yet she was loved by all. A baker, a mercenary, and even a prince. And now they all stood by her brother’s side ready to tear the world apart for her. When her world had fallen apart did the Whispers try to help? Did they even care? No. They simply accepted prophecy for unchangeable fate. So why this girl?
She knew armies were preparing with their sights set on Mordréda. She could not understand it. Her people would bow down to a nobody but not to their own Crown? Even her own traitorous heart felt a forbidden love for the girl.
Smack. A red handprint stood out beneath the blood and filth where Cassandra struck Adrianna across her face. The girl simply slumped over, too exhausted and incoherent to fight back even with words.
Cassandra strode to the cell door and as she locked it she heard a raw voice whisper, “I’m sorry.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“Come on Jack,” Xiomara taunted. “Surely you can do better than that!”
From atop a wooden fence she watched Jack and Aleksander clash their swords. Back and forth they went. Several other onlookers cheered and took bets as two of their best fighters lunged and parried locked into a fierce tumble. Sporting small nicks they both grinned even now. Aleksander seized Jack’s arm twisting it and drawing him in for a hit but the boy was fast and managed a standing back flip out of Aleksander’s grip landing in a perfect slide between the man’s feet and coming up from behind to get him in the back but Aleksander had recovered and raised his own sword just in time to meet him.
“Tired yet, Cromwell?” Aleksander panted gleefully.
Jack opened his mouth to form a witty reply when suddenly his eyes went wide and he crumpled to the ground with a cry. Aleksander stumbled from the sudden shift in balance. Xiomara hopped down from her perch and rushed over to the fallen Whisper. Jack convulsed, veins protruding from his neck as his breathing grew shallow and forced. Everyone gathered with panic in their eyes. Not once had they seen Jack so much as cry over a deep gash from training sessions gone awry and yet here he was whimpering in the dirt with tears crawling down his sharp face.
“Fetch Eisen!” Aleksander called and someone near the back ran faster than they ever had in training. Aleksander moved Jack’s blade out of harm’s way as Xiomara held the boy’s face firmly.
“Jack. Jack, tell me what’s wrong,” she commanded in a soothing but firm voice.
Eisen broke through the crowd worry evident upon his face. “What the hell is wrong with him?” he demanded.
“We don’t know,” Aleksander answered quickly. “We were sparring with blades and then he suddenly went down. I didn’t touch him, I swear.”
Eisen knelt down and Xiomara moved out of his way. Gently he pressed his palm against Jack’s forehead and muttered a few words under his breath. Slowly the boy’s body relaxed but his face still looked haunted. Carefully Eisen grabbed his left arm and yanked up the dusty black sleeve. “Adrianna,” he murmured. A ribbon of blood bled from Jack’s tattoo.
Standing swiftly he barked out orders. “Xiomara, stay with Jack and do what you can. Anything he says I want to know. Aleksander, send word to Kofi and Waseem, use the red ink, tell them to begin their march. Everyone else, pack up! It’s time.”
For a moment they all blinked stunned but at the cold fury in their leader’s eye they scrambled moving in double-time. Tents were dismantled, weapons were packed, and the horses loaded. Xiomara covered Jack in a blanket and hefted him onto a horse before hoisting herself up behind him. They rode long and hard and all the while Eisen and Xiomara maintained a watchful eye on the Whisper. Xiomara kept waiting for him to snap back together but he sat there haunted for hours.
Hours.
Finally he surfaced. Looking around he found Eisen riding beside them and when he turned his head Jack murmured thanks. “I felt nothing after you touched me with your magic. But I did not stop knowing.”
“You looked tortured,” Xiomara worried.
Jack’s eyes met Eisen’s then dropped his chin. “She was.”
Eisen’s hands tightened on his reins but said nothing. The Iron Army filled the sky with dust and ash as they rode for Mordréda.
* * *
Miles away Rajah Addar Waseem received a small scroll appearing upon his plate that had him jumping up and barking orders with General Hashim to ready their army. The soldiers strapped on leather and armor allowing only focused victory in their sights.
* * *
Kofi’s fist clenched with his own message scroll as he urged the horses faster not even checking to see if Tom could hold the pace.
Bursting through the trees Kofi jumped off his horse and the Whispers quickly gathered at his noisy return.
“What is it?” Abel asked quickly.
“The Iron Army has left for Mordréda,” Kofi panted urgently.
“What?” he cried looking at Tom for confirmation. “We were meant to coordinate!”
“We did. We have his plans and know where both Geoffrey and Llyr will strike. We were already headed back when we received his note,” Kofi rushed.
“Then why did he rush off?” Abel demanded. “He needs our help and he knows you wouldn’t have had time to return, so why—”
“It’s Adrianna. Jack went down and Geoffrey took that as a sign to move.” Kofi swallowed. “Cassandra is torturing her, Abel.”
Silence struck the Whispers. All remembered how determined Geoffrey had been when his sister was taken from him and none needed a reminder of his loyalty to her. The day Cassandra had taken her she’d set her course, but the moment she laid a hand on her she’d sealed her fate in blood.
“We have not had enough time to coordinate—” Abel began but Xià stepped forwards cutting him off with a glare.
All serenity stayed behind as the girl turned to sharpened steel. “Enough! An innocent is being tortured! If you had just told Geoffrey about the prophecy before then we would not have to fear the ending! In fact, if you had not washed your hands of Cassandra and led others to do so as well then we would not have had to fear the beginning! Cassandra is family. Geoffrey is family. And so is Adrianna. Kofi and Tom know what our positions need to be for this battle and we will discuss it during the journey but we will waste no more time with talk and procedure. We leave now,” she practically bellowed in a surprisingly commanding voice for someone so tiny and sweet. “For family and for Oneiroi.”
Abel’s mouth flopped open like a fish as he searched for words. Finding none he merely nodded. Johnny and Kevin both let out a whoop of excitement and everyone scattered to leave.
Xià smiled approvingly, once more a picture of pure gentle grace. “Nox!” she greeted in surprise. The boy walked to her reluctantly. “We’re leaving for Mordréda,” she shared.
Nox nodded his head with a poorly attempted smile. “Yeah, I heard.”
“Nox?” Xià looked at him concerned. She reached out and held his hand squeezing it reassuringly. “Nox, talk to me.”
He shook his head but finally sighed. “I wasn’t ready to wake up,” he admitted. “My life was so miserable, full of tests and needles and medicine and crashing hopes. When I showed up here it was like a dream escape. The longer I stayed the more I feared going back. How could I? After seeing all of this?”
He sniffed and scrunched his face. “I could’ve woken up, ya know. Faced it. But now I know there is no waking up and all I want is to go back to that dull two-story house in the suburbs at the end of a cul-de-sac and go back to my annoying perfect sister and my boring genius parents. But I can’t. It’s different when you choose not to go home versus when life chooses for you.”
Xià’s eyes swam sadly. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Nox avoided looking at her, instead fixing a soft smile upon his calm face. “I think if I could still wake up, if I could go back to that other life
, I think I’d be a writer. I’d write books filled with stories about this place. It’d be shelved as fiction, of course, but I think the best part would be meeting readers and catching their eye because they’ve been here too, even if just once before.”
“Will you come with us?” she asked hesitantly.
He frowned. “No, I don’t think I can.” Suddenly he gripped Xià’s hand tightly. “Will you promise me something? Will you rescue Adrianna and storm the castle and make sure Oneiroi gets a happily ever after? I don’t care how realistic tragedies are, I like happy endings.”
The girl smiled her large dark brown eyes at him. “I can’t promise the future, but I can promise that I will never stop trying.”
By now several of Nox’s friends had gathered around them, distracted from their packing. A rustling came through the trees as a lookout whistled four notes and out walked Titus and Ralph. With somber eyes and bracing smiles they approached the boy and Xià stepped back to stand with the others, tears rolling freely down her round cheeks.
“On to the next grand adventure, eh?” Ralph asked softly.
“Yep, and I get to meet it before you,” Nox smiled.
Ralph gave him a small chuckle before bowing his head. “Speak the language of the winds and let them guide you,” he murmured deeply then stepped back, standing beside Kofi.
Reaching out a thumb, Titus motioned a symbol upon the boy’s brow, a mark of blessing. “There is more,” Titus confided only loud enough for Nox to hear. “If you want it.”
Nox looked thoughtfully at the strange man then gave him a tired smile. “I don’t think I need more.”
Titus bowed his head then stepped back opening his arms as he did so. “Then let this moment be your last. Rest in the arms of your home.”
Tilting his head back to gaze upon the bright blue sky, Nox’s ears filled with the wonderful sounds of the forest, his favorite place. A bubbling brook, songbirds, wind in the leaves. Warm sunshine tingled his cool skin and weighed down his sleepy eyelids. A voice in the wind, a voice you could hear if only your ears were quick and quiet enough, spoke to him and welcomed him home.
The Whispers gathered in a now empty circle, their heads bowed in silence for a moment of farewell. An older boy named Todd began the song of parting and the others soon followed. Singing until their tears were dry, their horses readied, and their journey begun. Singing for the friends who have gone and for the others who would follow. Singing for Nox and singing for their own parting.
Go forth on adventure
Go forth with love
We bid you good parting
With all the hope from above.
Find what you’re seeking
New life or lasting peace
Find those who call you
Your past it shall cease
Leave behind what weighs you
Leave behind what blinds
Take only good will
And magic that binds
You depart from our arms
But never our hearts
Follow the voice in the wind
And seek where it starts
Go forth on adventure
Go forth with love
We bid you good parting
With all the hope from above.
* * *
A bird tapped against the window outside the Crown’s study. With a wave of her hand it opened and the bird promptly dropped the heavy parchment before taking flight. Curiously she reached out and turned the envelope over, unsurprised at the seal it bore: a black dragon.
Tearing it open with careful fingers she slid out the card and read a formal invitation to the year’s biggest event, signed by Geoffrey Verdandi, Addar Waseem, and Titus, followed by the mark of the Whispers; An invitation to war.
Cassandra smiled.
Let it be done with, she welcomed.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Enter the silver dragon raking its claws along the black and white diamond-pattern that catches in the growing winds of the north.
Beside the dragon flew a raven of bronze clutching a sword in its talons beating its wings as the purple cloth snapped in the wind.
To the dragon’s other side charged a great silver bear, one eye black and the other eye milky. A wreath of thorns curved beneath the beast. The creature breathed down the neck of its prey with every flap of the green silk carried high in the sky.
At the edge hid a dark fox curled protectively around a ship caught in a bottle. Its clever eyes twitched as its maroon landscape flapped wildly in the fierce breeze.
Enter a tree of gold planted in an earth and sky of blood. The northern winds made the branches sway but the tree did not bend.
Behind the highest hill rose a wild golden sun backed by two golden strips forming a great ‘X’ through which a rich blue shone through. The light flickered ferociously against the wind but refused to be extinguished.
Surrounded by sea and beasts, bronze ravens shrieked at its traitorous brothers and sisters. They stood their ground even as their foes took steady unflinching steps towards their nest. The sea crashed thunderously with the drums of war and the sea foam spat its disfavor upon the castle walls. True ravens, black as the coming end, circled the sky and perched upon the gates. Beside them hopped their shrewd crow cousins, tilting their small heads whenever a familiar face passed them by.
The flags waved in the whipping wind, held high with hands ready to slaughter. As soldiers stomped past a knotted tree blackbirds burst forth in a startling cacophony.
Suddenly the winds died down, but for a moment. The dragon, the raven, the bear, and the fox all bowed down, beside them the tree remained stoic. The Crown’s ravens bowed down accepting their presence. Then a flutter, a ruffle, a twist, and the winds surged back with renewed fight.
The flags stood up from their bows.
The armies unsheathed their weapons.
The battle dance began.
Soldiers roared as they surged forwards towards Cassandra’s waiting army, tearing great battle cries from deep within their bodies both in an attempt to draw courage and energy just as much to quash the fear threatening to escape. The Crown’s forces leapt forwards to greet them far from the palace gates.
A breath.
A beat.
The strings faded almost to silence before a timpani boomed into life followed by a rushing river of orchestral companions as the four armies slid into each other’s arms, finding their dance partners, and began to sway and turn in a desperate pas de deux.
Eisen raised his sword leading the Iron Army, that which had grown into a massive coalition of warriors from Aztlan, Llyr, and Ailill. Xiomara and Aleksander remained tight by his side. Ripping into the Crown’s ravens like the hungry beasts that they were, the Iron Army pushed forwards with relentless fervor. Ignoring the sweat in their eyes, the ache of their muscles, the quiver of terror and revulsion, they swung their weapons and raised their shields dancing from partner to partner in a complicated rendition of a quadrille leaving blood in their wake.
Addar and General Hashim blinded the dancers as their fierce merciless eyes bore into their dance partner’s eyes with the brilliance of the sun, scimitars held high. The Llyrian forces slid through their enemies like high noon chasing away skittish shadows from their corners, setting fire to the wings of those who dared fly too close, ripping any hope for tomorrow right out of their eyes with their ruthless samba.
The Crown’s army met each opponent with skill and duty in their steps. Sweeping through the chaos in a beautiful and angry dance of the Sudarushka bears, foxes, dragons, and birds lay gutted at their feet. Faces painted with gore nothing halted their steps or sent the beat toppling off-kilter.
Wind howled in the trees and the Whispers dispersed throughout the raging battlegrounds. While the others sought and destroyed their partners, the Whispers had no desire for the dance. Kicking each contender away with a fierce series of battements, beating foe after foe, tossing them to the ground and chasing forwa
rds to end dance after dance.
Abel led the Whispers with gifts less useful for battle and sent half of them armed with bows to take archer positions. Arrows flew in terrifying hordes felling raven after raven, the ground darkened with the accumulation of their hunt. The other half took Abel’s lead and disappeared into the thick of the writhing mass, swords or daggers familiar in their hands.
Great beasts charged into the warring bodies causing soldiers to jump out of the way or face being trampled by massive bears, wild cats, enraged moose, clever vipers, and other animals coming to Oneiroi’s defense under Kofi’s command. The Crown’s soldiers formed small groups to face off against the creatures that knew no dance but only struck with wild determination.
Ping stood by his sister and quickly a wide berth circled around them. Xià reached out clenching her fists but never touching more than air her opponents still fell to their knees with either bones shattered or hearts crushed. Gone was the gentle little girl with cherry blossom cheeks, there was no place for that girl here. In her stead stood a fierce little thing with only concentration in her eyes. Ping threw out his hands and the men charging him fell to their knees as their nightmares crawled out of their minds and stood before them for only them to see. Leaving minds broken in his wake the bodies soon followed as their fear granted them no mercy from the warriors with blades.
Clouds had gathered above them and lightning flashed within, anxious to join the grand ball dancing below. Sending gusts of wind to topple Mordrédan fighters, Kevin kept one angry fist spinning high in the air growing the storm to greater strengths. Just within eye’s reach Seamus spun his own dance, moving too quick for his opponents to learn the step. Well versed in any style his enemies wished to dance Seamus out-danced them all.
The battle’s ballroom darkened above and grew slick with bloodshed. Even as dancers fell those still standing did not falter nor hesitate. If they could dance long enough to reach the cantata’s end they might escape the claws pulling them from this realm. Another hair-raising choral cry to the heavens, another shrill whisper of the strings down the spines, another blare of the horns in the ears, another boom of the drums in the heart, but as merciless as the music pushed them they all dreaded the closing solo for none knew what voice would sing.