by Bethan Johns
“I am Howelltie. I know when to gamble. I know my risks,” I looked over at Gaelen and caught his eye. He was looking at me with a dark fury, I understood why any who had seen him in his full glory would quake were that gaze thrust upon them.
He looked as though he could take down the miles of earth above us with a mere thought. I turned back to the queen, glancing at the tiny spot of red on her throat. “and my rewards.” I finished with a whisper.
I rifted.
✽✽✽
Sylek
Walking through the blistering heat of the midday sun I peered through the dust that had risen from thousands of marching feet. My tent was a long way off. I felt a message coming through my psychic channels. It was an announcement. I knew many Howelltie would be seeing it.
I saw her then. Sierade.
I saw her blast away half of the Nephilim keep. I saw her with the simple flick of her wrist drop thousands of Reves’ troops. The messages were from her perspective, I could taste her rage, her blood rage.
I saw her with her blade, the very curved blade I had given her, pressed into the crotch of the Nephilim Commander.
I smiled as the images flew by, as she blasted through hundreds of Nephilim warriors. I then watched as Gaelen the Stormcleaver appeared, appeared as many had never seen him, in full glory, his magic shimmering like rainbows around him. I watched in fear for her as he approached, and he arrested her.
As I studied the images, I knew that she was as skilled as ever in her psychic magic and she was holding something back. She did not let everything she was thinking show through these messages, she had chosen the message she would send.
The images continued flying, her under arrest in the queen’s personal chamber of power.
The queen declaring it an act of war and therefore not trying her for treason.
I smirked. There was no way Queen Aubliette had done that willingly. I wondered where Sierade was now. A new image flashed through my mind.
The army, the entirety of the Rustlavayne screaming in power and in the afterglow of a battle. As though they had fought alongside her. The image was again from her perspective and I watched as they blasted their dragons into the air in celebration of her returning to their camp.
Here. In Howelltie.
I looked up from the dusty ground where I had stopped to receive the message that must have been passed along from the warriors in her camp through many different psychic links to reach me here.
Rislin was running toward me “Sylek!” she said out of breath. “Did you see?” She was smiling brilliantly.
“I saw.”
She studied me for a moment. “You should go to her.”
I shook my head. “I am going to see Commander Israfil. If Sierade should like to see me. She will come. I know her better than anybody, I think, she will not wish to see any male in that way for a time.”
Rislin smiled. “You mean to purchase her army.”
I nodded. “We have to. I do not think we can win the war without them. They have become powerful indeed. Even without her.”
She shook her head. “I cannot believe she hasn’t been challenged in fifty years.”
I smiled. Thinking of the silver-eyed-demon girl. The one who could connect to the very Tundra.
“I can.”
✽✽✽
Gaelen
Elliot was staring at me with some concern. I could see him from the corner of my eye as I sat in my armchair with my book.
I shut the book and swirled my drink, waiting for him to start whatever discussion it was that he was desperate to have.
“Gaelen?” he asked tentatively.
I leaned my head back in the chair and rolled it to meet his eyes. “Yes, Elliot?”
“It’s been three days since Sierade escaped our clutches. We still have not talked about it.”
I closed my eyes. “So talk.”
I heard him move to sit across from me. “How?”
Opening my eyes and looking across at him, I waited.
He rolled his eyes “How did she escape from you?”
I shrugged “Elliot, she stronger than I am.”
Elliot shook his head. “That is not possible.” He said after a moment.
He stared at me.
I sighed, leaning forward and running my hands through my hair.
“Look, I am telling you now, she is more powerful than I am. I can’t beat her one on one.”
“Then we will have to think of a way to contain her.” He said.
I shook my head again. “Elliot, do you not understand? We can’t contain her. That chamber has some of the strongest containment spells known to Fae. She broke my power. Like it was nothing.”
“How is that possible?” he whispered.
“I witnessed her pull a Fae out of a rift. She pulled him out of the void.”
He leaned back in his chair, loosing a breath.
“You did not see what I saw Elliot. She has been holding back. She could fight an army single-handidly.”
He looked at me then. “If she becomes a problem, we will have to do whatever it takes.”
I nodded slowly, leaning back into my chair.
Elliot stared at me some more. “What Elliot? I know you have more to say.”
He shrugged “Two things more.”
I waved my hand.
“Have you ever met a creature stronger than you before?”
“My father.” I responded.
“Do you know how this young Fae became so strong?”
“She simply willed it so.” I said, thinking back to the day we had danced at Reves’ after our first battle.
She had acted as an anchor for my rift. She then told me my body was magic and if I willed it, it would be so. I had been practising ever since, and I learned through other small actions she was right.
The rules that we followed, they truly did not matter. I thought that my streak of prophecy was only because of my heritage. I had not known that, if I chose, none of the rules had to apply to me.
His eyebrows raised. “Knowing Sierade the way I do that actually does answer the question. I don’t know that I’ve ever met a creature with will like hers.”
I shook my head. “Elliot, I knew. I did not know where it was going to lead, but I knew she was making a wrong choice. She came to see me the night before she destroyed the keep. If I could have told her...”
He moved in front of me. “I have told you before Gaelen and I will tell you again. You have made your choice not to interfere with prophecy and free will. You will not let the results sit on your conscious. You must not. I will not allow that.”
I nodded, drawing myself up. “You’re right.”
He sat back in his chair for a moment. “You know we’re on the wrong side of this battle, right?”
He spoke quietly, but I heard him easily.
“Might makes right.” I whispered back. Thinking about how ironic it was that I was now quoting Howelltie customs.
I shook my head. “I will concede that I have some issues with Aubliette, but I choose to put my faith in my Queen.”
Elliot whispered “Sierade said that the Queen was playacting madness and that all of this nonsense has some other end-game. Do you think she’s right?”
I hesitated a moment before speaking. “Yes.”
✽✽✽
Sierade
I spent a few days in the camp. A few days I could no longer remember. They had been a blur of alcohol and (not so) surprisingly, blood.
The mercs liked to battle. So, we did. We held fights. We avoided death blows as much as possible at celebration pit fights, but sometimes the rage would take over. I myself had killed a male in the throes of passionate brawling.
I looked up as Faust walked into my tent. “We have been invited to go see Commander Israfil.”
I had been nursing a few of my more wicked looking wounds. They would heal.
I sighed. “We will go tomorrow. Please send out the message.
Also, I need you to look into hiring thirty Fae who are very strong in creation magic.”
He nodded and left.
I was preoccupied. I was frustrated. I had never encountered a battle I couldn’t win.
I couldn’t beat Gaelen, not without Tundra.
I wanted to. It felt like another thing I couldn’t walk away from; the draw was nearly as strong as the day I had first felt the Tundra. I wanted to do it from my own reserves.
But I was tired. I felt like I needed a break. I heard a whisper “Come, run away with me.” It resonated deep within my bones and I knew it was Tundra.
I knew what Tundra wanted from me.
I did not think I would be able to hold out much longer. “There are some things I need to set straight first.” I whispered back.
Gaelen suddenly appeared in front of me in my tent.
“What do you want Gaelen?” I asked, eyeing him. He was dressed casually in dark trousers and a forest-green jacket. His wings were nowhere to be seen.
“To ask you if you truly feel no remorse for those Nephilim you killed.”
I watched as he slowly walked around my tent, picking up my personal belongings here and there as he went.
Honesty, that is what he was asking of me. “No Gaelen, I do not feel remorse for them. I do not need your judgement.”
He shook his head as he set down the turquois ring I had long ago stolen from an Elfin corpse.
“I don’t even know why I am here. I’d like to say that I want to understand, I do not want to judge. It is hard not to though.”
I said nothing. He moved now so he stood in front of me where I sat on my bunk. He put his fingers beneath my chin and lifted my face to meet his gaze.
“I understand you are bloodthirsty, I do not even judge you that, but there were children in that keep. There were servants who were not warriors. Explain to me how you feel no remorse.”
He looked desperate, I could tell he was trying to justify not hating me. Or trying to justify hating me. Either way, I could not tell him. I could not tell him that I knew where the energy from each of those creatures had gone. I could not tell him about Tundra. That was my secret. My gift and my burden.
He knelt now in front of me. “Tell me Siera, how am I to trust you? How am I to remain your friend? I have a challenging time believing you are simply a monster.” As he searched my eyes I recalled the feelings he had wrought from me, the power I had felt flare from him in waves.
I had known I would lose his trust and his friendship. I had not anticipated that he would think me worth the time to try and salvage it. I was not prepared for this, for him pleading with me. I also knew that he would never understand me, he would never understand Tundra.
Gaelen was too intrinsically good. He could joke all he wanted, but I could see into his heart, I could see that there was no room for my madness within him.
I leaned forward and kissed him lightly on his cheek. His brows were furrowed when I pulled away and he reached his hand up to wipe a tear from my cheek. I gathered myself, slipping a mask of hostility and anger into place.
“You are going to have to come to terms with the thought that the great Gaelen Stormcleaver may have been deceived. I am a monster and those deaths meant nothing to me.” I said, standing and moving away from him.
“Then why do you cry?” he asked quietly still kneeling in front of the bed.
I scoffed now. “Not over death Gaelen. Death means little to me.” I could not think of an answer to give him for my tears. I knew there was no point showing him the softer side of myself now. Not with what was coming next.
“Do not presume to know me Stormcleaver.”
He stood quickly and faced me, his wings flowing out behind him. His eyes had changed to obsidian now.
“You are lying to me Sierade Gwaynten and I would know why.”
He rifted in front of me and pushed me into the center post of my tent. His chest raising and falling against mine. I felt again that mind-altering chemistry, I knew it was rare, I knew that some Fae called this feeling finding your soul-matched. I also knew I could not hide what I was feeling fast enough to keep him from seeing it in my face.
Our eyes were locked as his fingers gripped my waist. I could not catch my breath before he kissed me suddenly, my lip cut against his sharpened canine and I gripped my fingers in his feathered wings hard. He pulled me closer to himself and I felt that his heart was racing as much as mine.
I ripped myself away from him and brought my shaking hand up to my mouth. We stood a few feet apart now.
“Are you going to deny that truth Siera?” He whispered.
I swallowed, it was truth. If I was living a different life, if I was a different female, he would be my soul-fated. If I were a female who could be allowed to have that. My fate rested with Tundra though, not with the beautiful male who stood now in front of me. I whispered to Tundra to ask what it all meant. I received no response other than the same calling as before. Come away with me.
I shook my head at him.
“I have no choice in who I am Gaelen.”
“What does that even mean?” He spoke softly. “Why are you holding back from me? You can trust me. I can help you.”
He made to move toward me again. If he touched me again it would undo me.
I loosed my power. My silver energy blasting against him, his eyes widened as it pushed him back a few feet.
“I don’t need your help. Stay the hell away from me.” I sent a stronger blast of power at him now.
He loosed his energy to nullify mine. We were left staring at each other through a haze of silver and gold.
I felt a weary exhaustion flow over me. “Leave Gaelen.” I said.
He stood studying me for a heartbeat longer before he rifted in front of me. I think he could see the defeat in my eyes. The part of me just begging him to stay, the other part begging him to leave.
He opened his mouth and closed it shaking his head.
“Leave!” I screamed at him now.
His eyes widened, and he did. I let myself fall to the floor.
I sucked my power back into myself and felt hands on my shoulders. I lifted my eyes to meet with Faust’s crimson ones. He lifted me, placed me in my bunk and, ignoring my tears, merely said. “Get some rest Commander, we will need you come the morrow.”
I had no idea how much he had heard between Gaelen and I. I did not care.
I slept.
...
I rifted myself and Faust into the Elfin camp at the coordinates where I had been told to.
The first thing my eyes were drawn to was Sylek. He sat at the table among others but as his eyes met mine I felt my heart contract. He looked much the same as always.
I burned with how much I had missed his quiet strength. I could tell by the sorrow in his eyes that my expression was painted all over my face. I willed it away and swallowed past the burning in my throat to gauge the rest of the room.
It was a large war tent, set with a table designed to seat up to twenty. This was the heart of the resistance then.
I moved forward now. Also seated at the table was Rislin, to whom I inclined my head, and the Elfin whom I assumed must be Israfil. She had hair the colour of deciduous trees in the autumn and eyes that were an orange to match. Her skin was a burnt brown colour, like marshmallows toasted to perfection.
Faust followed my lead as I sat down. “Commander Israfel,” I said.
She nodded in response. Her eyes roaming over me slowly. I noted her brown leather armour and her calloused fingers.
“You have fought in this war.” I smiled at her worn body.
She nodded and stood. “As have you, so I am told.”
I nodded as well.
“Let me be straight with you Sierade.”
She looked to me for confirmation.
“I would have it no other way.”
“I would like to hire your armies, but you strike me as a liability. Sylek showed me the images of your rev
enge on Reves, and personally I am happy you got what was yours. Professionally though, it brings up many concerns.”
She looked to me then as though I would argue. I merely nodded my head in understanding. “Please first let me know the reasons you would hire my mercs and then please let me know your concerns.” I said blandly.