Everything faded to black.
When he came to again, it was to the sounds of grinding beside him, as if someone was crushing something with a mortar and pestle. The noise rattled in Ion’s head and made his headache even worse. He coughed and he could feel blood gurgle into his mouth.
Everything slowly quieted again as consciousness slipped away.
Then Ion woke in pain. At first, it was only a little on his leg, like a cut or scrape. But almost immediately, he was overwhelmed by a pain so unbearable it felt as though all his bones were exploding, and his eyes shot open so violently he was surprised they didn’t pop out of their sockets.
A hand touched his wrist.
Ion grabbed the hand holding him, crushing it in his own. He convulsed violently on the table. He screamed as loud as he could, blood spewing from his mouth.
Suddenly, an onslaught of unfamiliar voices filled his head. The buzzing was so intense, he couldn’t decipher his own thoughts. What was happening? Who could have done this? Ion growled again as he turned his head, despite the crushing pain, and looked over at the man sitting next to him. Two bright blue eyes, filled with tears, stared right back at him.
Ion lifted his shaking head in disbelief. There was no way it could be him. As he continued to pull himself up, he caught sight of the blood he just spat out splattered on his chest. There was something wrong very with it. He growled and, collecting all his strength, lifted his hand to his face.
The veins in his wrist were glowing.
Chapter 52
Spearield, 1st Day of the Month of Fire, 1114 A.F.F.
All the Free-Wielders had brought their tables and chairs out into the centre of the village. Gentry had organized a feast to honour the dead and to welcome the new Azanthean recruits. None of the recruits had weapons or Godstones, but Rohan and Gentry had decided it best to include them. Their presence kept everyone else on edge. Those who chose not to surrender were uninvited, but Kuba knew that Gentry would take care of them, nonetheless. Kuba admired Gentry’s strength. Even with Robert killed by the United Azanthean Army, he could still invite them to sit at his table.
Kuba pushed at his vegetables unenthusiastically. He didn’t have Gentry’s strength. Somber chatter echoed through the village.
Aurelia sat down beside him. “Hey, kid.”
“I hate this.”
“Everyone does.”
“Then why do it?”
A smile that didn’t reach her eyes was plastered on her face. “Because we won.”
He looked at Aurelia. “Ion is gone,” said Kuba.
Her smile faded. “We will get him back. I know we will.”
He felt Aurelia wrap her arm around him. It was comforting.
“It’s just us for a little while now,” she said, pulling him close. “But we’ll get him back, I have to.”
“My friends,” Rohan’s voice boomed from the centre of the group. “There were many endings today, but also a new beginning. We feast to honour the lost and to savour our victory. We all lost someone in the battle today.” Kuba looked down at his feet. “So we must make sure they did not die in vain. Today, we look to our future, to the future of Azanthea and all of its inhabitants. A future without slaves or kings, a future where Wielders can live how they choose, just as regular people do. A future of freedom. So, eat well. Tonight, we celebrate, and tomorrow, we begin preparations, for we are at war.”
The crowd lift their glasses. Kuba followed suit, clinking his cup with Aurelia’s.
They looked at one another.
“To war.”
Vallich sat on the ledge of the rock wall, his feet dangling off the side. Since the day he found it, this was the first time he had been truly separated from his Godstone. His mind felt oddly quiet, but his body craved the power, though there was something was quite invigorating about being so weak. He wondered how long he could last without it.
The warm sun was setting behind him in the west, and he had his eyes set on the dark skies. He took a deep breath, the raw wounds on his back and chest seared in pain, but the air was so fresh here, so untouched, it was worth the pain.
He inched closer to the edge and looked down. Bodies littered the beach below, and blood stained the golden sand. He looked east across the ocean again, right at his target.
His plan had worked flawlessly. He was one of them now; he finally had an army. And they were headed exactly where he wanted to go.
Vallich smirked as he set his sights on his target.
To Azul.
To war.
Chapter 53
The Dungeons of Azul, Some Days Later, 1114 A.F.F.
Kari lay in the centre of the cold damp floor. The concept of time was the first thing to have slipped away since being caged yet again. If it was day or night she knew naught. It could have been a week since the final trial, or perhaps a month. Who knew?
The dungeons were anything but quiet lately. Between Lord Salmond’s manic cries and the frequent interrogation sessions they had been putting Dane through, her ears barely had a moment of respite. Nevertheless, the silence in her mind still haunted her.
Kari hugged her knees in and wept for Mímrvor. Her heart pined for their bond and her mind longed for the lull he could bring. She had never been alone with her thoughts, at least not that she could remember. Now, her mind raced at a breakneck pace and the darkest of ideas infiltrated her thoughts. It was terrifying. It was human.
She found herself obsessed with the question of whether or not this was what it was like to be truly human. Not a Wielder or a Vyvent or a God. Just a human, weak and frail of both mind and body.
If it was this was her fate, it was the ultimate torture.
A clatter from down the hall snapped Kari to attention. She rose to her feet and crept over to the small window in the door.
“Gentle!” a gruff voice boomed down the hall in an accent she was unfamiliar with. “I swear if you harm one hair on his head, you’ll have me to answer too.”
Kari peaked out the slit of a window trying to see them, but they were still too far, and it was much too dark.
“Please,” another man’s voice whimpered. Kari heard the sounds of feet dragging along the floor. “Please just make it stop. Make it stop! It hurts. It hurts so much…”
A light came into view, a bright brownish hue shimmering from where the voices were coming from. It was most certainly not the typical torchlight. Kari took a step back from the door, afraid they would catch her watching.
“I know, m’ah boy. I know.” The gruff man sounded sad. “It was the only way.”
“Argh,” the boy screamed just as the echo of their footsteps stopped. They weren’t far. Kari angled herself to get a view through the small opening.
There were four of them. A broad man wrapped up in a black cloak and two Elevenths dragging a tall Vyvent. The Vyvent’s head was bowed, his face covered by tresses of blond hair. He was crying, clearly in immense pain.
Kari’s breath caught in her lungs and she had to look away as a flashback of the Enlightenment Trail sprung into her mind. She caught her breath and looked back at the Vyvent. She also understood immense pain.
Kari inched her nose closer to the opening, the Vyvent’s bright glow stinging her eyes. She had not seen a light so bright since she had been imprisoned.
Suddenly she was distracted by the sight of dark braids flowing out from underneath one of the Elevenths’ helmets.
Kari swallowed the lump in her throat.
Amelie.
She watched as Amelie shoved the Vyvent into the cell, the other Eleventh following him in. The light in the hall dulled, but the glow continued to seep through the small window in the door. Kari smiled a little, the darkness was terrible. It would be nice to finally have some light.
“Please… please.” More of the Vyvents agonizing screams echoed through the dungeon. “Just end it, please. I’m begging.”
The gruff man bounded towards the door, but Amelie stepped in his
path. He growled at her. “There is no reason to be so cruel. The transformation can last months. He’s in terrible pain.”
“Pain you administered,” she replied.
“To save his life!” The man stepped towards Amelie. “Let him be comfortable, give him a dose of Nightwine or Poppymilk. Do something! He is just a boy.”
“Yet man enough to challenge Hectar?” Amelie said, her tone of voice nearly unrecognizable. Unrecognizable on her at least, but so familiar to Kari. The way Amelie spoke, even the way she moved—it reminded her of Vallich.
Kari leaned her ear closer to the window.
“Your God-King promised that we would be safe, that my family would be safe.”
“Is he not safe down here?”
The man’s cloak shook and his fists balled. “These were not the terms.”
“Time to say your goodbyes,” Amelie said, stepping out from between the man and the cell door. She glanced back over her shoulder at him. “You have a meeting with the God-King.”
The man stepped towards the door, putting his face right in the window, fully covering the opening. Kari felt a shiver when the glow from the Vyvent disappeared.
“M’ah boy,” the man said, his trembling voice echoing against the walls of the stone cell, “I swear to you, I will get us out of this. We will be together again, all of us. Ma and Kuba, too.”
“Pa,” the Vyvent’s voice cracked from the inside of the cell. “Please, please it hurts so much. It burns. I can’t…”
“You can and you must,” the man said. “Please, forgive me. I will be back as soon as I can to get you out of here.”
“Pa, no. Please,” the tearful pleas of the Vyvent bounced off the stone walls. Kari’s hands crept up to the bottom of her own cell door’s window as the man, the Vyvent’s human father, stepped away from the cell. The warm glow of the Vyvent’s blood lit up the hall once again.
Kari closed her eyes for just a moment and basked in the Vyvent’s light.
A glowing hand slammed down on the ledge of the small window and gripped it with inhuman strength. The entire door vibrated in the Vyvent’s trembling hold. “Don’t go,” he said with a voice just as shaky.
The cloaked man stepped forward and lay both his hands on top of the Vyvent’s unsteady fingers. The sobbing from inside the cell quelled.
“It’ll be fine. I will sort this out,” the man whispered, leaning his forehead just above the window. “Be strong, my son.”
“Pa, please.” The cell door shook more violently.
“I’m so sorry. I know you may think otherwise, but please trust me when I say this. I love you, Ion. I will make this right.”
The cloaked man pulled his hands away.
The Vyvent, Ion, let out a visceral scream. Something filled with both immense pain and sorrow. The cloaked man, his father, did nothing but turn on his heels and leave.
Thank You
Thank you from the depths of my soul for taking the chance to venture into the world of Azanthea.
If you could spare some time out of your day, please consider leaving a review on Goodreads or Amazon.
Thank you again. I hope you enjoyed your journey.
Look forward to All the Queen’s Renegades coming in early 2020.
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Acknowledgments
First and foremost, a toast to you, the reader, for picking up this book. With you my heart is a little more full and my wallet a little less empty. My gratitude is everlasting.
To the parents who birthed me, the siblings who annoyed me, and the beautiful puppies that comfort me. Kelly, Michael, Eric, Michelle, Levon, and yes, even Benny; I love you all. I would insert our typical Disney line we normally use to show our love, but on Wednesday, February 4, 1998 it was copyrighted… so there goes that sentiment.
To Phil; I love you. Whoops, was that an extremely public display of affection? I think so… my bad! But seriously, thank you for reading the very first draft of this book and telling me to kill more of the characters. The carnage is coming, I promise.
Monika and Madison, y’all are my soulmates. I wouldn’t have even survived this long without the two of you ladies. Also, I miss you, come see me in Montreal.
To Alex and Jenny, two of my dearest friends and beta readers; I love you. The fact that you took the time to read this story filled my soul to the brim with joy.
To the rest of my darling beta readers, Angela Anne, Aspen, Ingrid, Jordan, Vic, and Andrew, I know I was way off schedule and all over the map. You folks encouraged me through it though. You deserve all the praise in the world.
Don’t worry Blake and Nate—I haven’t forgotten about the two of you. Thank you for being such awesome friends, you guys rock for beta reading too! I will forever appreciate it.
Now, to all of the people who literally pulled this thing together for me. Amanda, I’m going to start with you. You helped me tear this thing to shreds and put it back together in a way that no one else could (and in the nicest way possible). You were an amazing editor, so thank you!
To Jessica and Damonza for my map and cover, respectively; your talent is incomprehensible, and I am mad jealous. Teach me. Please.
Jessi, thank you for being an awesome proofreader! To have your keen eye on this made all the difference.
To my writerly friends, old and new, I can’t tell you how amazing it was to get to know you this summer. Wishing you all the best in your endeavours and looking forward to our future adventures together.
And to the rest of my family and friends, young and old, this is a test to see if you actually read the book. Next time you see me tell me you saw this and then we’ll maybe chat about you getting your thank you.
Kidding (sort of)… I love you all.
Now, with all that out of the way, we’ll come back again to you, the reader. Writing is an art, but like any art, it is only half. The other half—the interpretation—it’s yours. So now I pass the torch to you. Create away!
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