Lana released her and the girl fell to the ground. “Who is Rivanna, and who are you?”
“My name is Veni. Rivanna brought Rul back.”
Lana stared at Veni, who remained on the ground, defeated. “Why?”
Veni shrugged. “She is an evil woman. She hoped to ingratiate herself with Aito. It didn’t work. She’s locked in a tower in his castle while Rul went to battle.”
“His name is Bolgor.”
Lana turned her back on the girl and wiped fresh tears from her face. She watched as the survivors rounded up the remaining soldiers. The battle was over soon after the Rimers arrived.
“You knew him well?”
Lana turned to face the girl. She saw fear in Veni’s eyes, but she also saw something else. The girl had cared for Bolgor in some way. “Yes, I knew him well. He was my best friend, and my first love.”
Veni bowed her head, staring at a bloody spot on the ground. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know him very long, or very well, but he was like a brother to me. He was the only friend I have ever had.”
Her confession broke the ice surrounding Lana’s heart and she could hold her glare no longer. She sat beside Veni and put an arm around her. They huddled there together until an older man entered the courtyard.
When Lana saw him, she burst to her feet and ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist. He held her close, both of them sobbing uncontrollably. Lana held her father tight, refusing to let him go.
When at last he pried himself free, he wiped the tears from her cheeks and smiled. “You need to eat more, my darling. You are too skinny to be traipsing all over the north.”
Belli joined them and Lana introduced them both to Dixon and Veni. Together, they gathered around a small fire and ate some meat from an animal one of the Rimers had caught, Lana finally realizing just how much she missed her friends and family. A hole in her heart still remained, but it was beginning to close for the first time since the Battle of Rona.
Hours later, the survivors stood in the courtyard beside several pyres. The ground was too hard to bury any bodies, and Lana did not want to risk a repeat of the pain she had suffered twice now. Veni stood beside her, tears streaming down the young girl’s face. She had lost her only friends that day.
Lana quickly grew fond of Veni, recognizing the fighting spirit hidden beneath the scared facade. Reaching down, she took the girl’s hand, squeezing it in encouragement, and together they watched their friends burn.
***
“I’m so glad you’re alright, my darling.”
Lana sat beside her father beside a small campfire in a clearing outside the village. Deni slept curled up on the ground, his head in her lap. She looked up at Valian as she stroked the boy’s hair and smiled.
“Me, too. At least, I think I’ll be alright, in the long run.”
For the first time in a long time, she felt content. Losing Bolgor had been the worst moment in her life. Somehow, losing him a second time had been easier, almost freeing.
Lana looked across the fire to where Veni lay sleeping. Knowing that Bolgor’s continued existence had helped free someone who was as enslaved as the dragons brought a strange sense of peace to the young woman. She had been trying so hard to run away from her past, her family and friends. And here she sat, with the people who mattered most and several new people she was quickly growing to care for.
Dixon sat down beside Lana, pulling Deni gently onto his lap so he could scoot closer to her. She saw her father’s smile grow and was glad the firelight hid the color growing in her cheeks. Dixon filled her mug with the warm cafe brewing over the fire and she took a grateful sip.
“So what’s the plan now?” Bellithana settled on the other side of Valian, whispering so as to not wake the dozing youngsters.
“We kill Aito.” Veni sat up suddenly, scaring them all and causing Lana to spill some of her cafe on Deni’s hat. The boy was exhausted, though, and did not stir.
Valian narrowed his eyes at the girl. “Yes, we kill Aito.”
Though they had all heard Veni’s story, they were hesitant to trust where her allegiance lay.
“I know where he is. And I know the layout of the castle. Well, for the most part.”
Belli nodded. “That would be helpful. What about your mentor?”
Veni’s laugh was bitter and spiteful. “That witch can burn for all I care. She used me and beat me and treated me like I was an animal since the time she found me. I would have been better dying on that road as a child.”
Lana smiled at the girl. “Tell us what you know.”
Chapter 22
The air was cool in the castle as the sun broke over the wall. The fire in the hearth did little to cut the chill. The witch huddled in a chair, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the silent landscape. She had been trapped in the tower for days, weeks, months, years. She had lost track of time. It crept along so slowly, measured by the coming of the servants. They did not even arrive at regular intervals, and she wondered when they would stop coming altogether.
She had taken to chanting phrases, muttering incoherently, trying to force some magic through her decaying fingers. Commander Aito had betrayed her, burned her ingredients, taken her creation.
“Veni? Veni, fetch me some water.” Rivanna rocked on her chair, watching the reds and oranges pierce the lightening sky. “That girl…”
The old witch tried to remember the last time she saw her servant, her little slave. Today? Yesterday? No. It had been a week at least. Maybe more.
“Where is that girl?”
A figure appeared on the horizon, barely a speck among the trees. Somehow, Rivanna knew it was human, and she knew who it was.
***
>
Veni pointed. “There.”
A castle stood before them, surrounded by a thick wall.
“You know the plan. Let’s go.”
Valian waved the soldiers and dragons behind him forward. Several of the men under Jase’s command had surrendered and begged to be forgiven. Those Valian deemed honest were accepted into the ranks, bolstering his forces greatly.
Most of the Rimers slipped around to the sides, flanking the castle. They would attack from all sides, including above. Aito would have nowhere to run.
“Now, please.”
A Rimer stepped up beside Valian, with Bellithana on his back. The others formed up behind him, and they moved forward as one. As they approached the gate, a hail of arrows rained down on them. Lana flinched as she rode on Jireo, but the arrows snapped several feet above them and fell harmlessly to the ground around them as they pushed up to the wall.
Valian smiled at Belli and the dragon, who returned the grin and said, “I love shield magic.”
“Indeed. On my count… 3… 2… Now!”
The dragon dropped the shield and a barrage of arrows, flame, and frost flew from the group over the wall. Screams could be heard on the inside as they met their targets. The Rimers, Ator, and Belli blasted the gate with heat and cold until the wood shattered beneath the force.
“In,” shouted Valian, and his troops surged forward through the gap. At the same time, the Rimers flew over the sides, setting upon the soldiers within.
***
Within his castle, Commander Aito heard the screams of his men.
“What is going on?” The fear was evident in his voice and his hand clutched his sword.
“We are under attack, sir.” His aide, a boy of barely thirteen, shook visibly as he stood beside his master.
Aito stood and strode to the window. He could see the mass of white invading his courtyard, his sanctuary. “Bring me the witch.”
***
Rivanna was in her chair, rocking and waiting, when a knock sounded upon the door. It opened to reveal a young boy. She recognized him as Aito’s servant.
“Madam, Commander Aito requests your presence.”
Her grin grew slowly, menacingly, and she began to cackle. “He requests my presence, does he? He requests m
y presence? Where was he when my girl turned on me? And what did he do with my creature? My presence, indeed.”
She continued rocking and ignored further requests from the boy as her cackles echoed through the stone corridors.
***
Valian burst through the door just as Aito reached it, sword drawn and held in front of him. Aito skidded backward, fumbling for his own weapon. After a brief pause, Valian charged forward, an enraged warrior cry pouring from his lips. Aito was barely able to get his sword up in time to deflect the first blow and it glanced off his left shoulder. He had not had time to don his full armor and the blade sliced through the fabric of his tunic, nicking his skin beneath.
Regaining his footing, he leaned forward, planted his right shoulder against the attacker’s breast, and shoved. Valian stumbled and slipped, landing heavily on the stone floor, his sword skidding out of reach as he reflexively tried to cushion his fall.
Smiling triumphantly, Aito kicked the sword further away from the fallen man. “Well, now, what a quick turn of events.”
He stepped forward, placing the tip of his sword against Valian’s throat. “Who are you, and why are you in my castle?”
Valian held his head high, more to avoid the blade than out of pride. “I am Valian Fildur of the Rona army. You will surrender, or you will die.”
Aito laughed and the sound echoed throughout the cold room. “Surrender? I have my sword against your throat and you are demanding my surrender? Brash. And very arrogant. No, Valian Fildur of the Rona army, I will not surrender. And neither will you. I will have your head for invading my home, and I will have the heads of your men as well. Prepare to die.”
He drew back, raising the sword high for the death blow. Before he could bring it down, something caught in his own throat. He couldn’t breathe and all he could taste was blood. Choking, he dropped the sword and put his hands to his neck. A piece of wood was protruding from his skin. He gripped it, trying feebly to pull it out, but the pain every time it moved was too great.
His eyes grew wide as he struggled for air. His lungs burned with unimaginable pain, begging for him to give them sustenance. His legs grew weak and he fell to his knees. His blurring gaze settled on the doorway where a young woman with an empty bow stood beside a girl— the witch’s girl. He had been betrayed.
Aito tried to scream through the blood one last time, but nothing came out aside from a few gurgles and bubbles. Unable to resist any longer, he fell to his side and watched in despair as the world faded.
***
“Inside, quickly.” Lana urged Veni forward, then ran toward her father. He was standing up and brushing himself off. “Are you hurt?”
He shook his head and smiled. “No, I am fine, thanks to you.”
She returned his smile and turned to Veni. “Let’s find the witch.”
After gathering several others, they searched the labyrinth of halls. Servants and soldiers were killed or captured. Those that surrendered were taken to an area outside, held by the Rimers who could not enter the castle.
At an intersection, Veni paused, staring down an empty hall.
“What is wrong, Veni?” Lana placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder.
Veni jumped at her touch, her eyes wider than normal. “She’s this way.”
Lana clenched her teeth, flexing the muscles along her jaw, and nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”
After explaining the situation to Valian and Ator, who was the only dragon small enough to enter the castle, the girls headed down the eerie hall. It was absolutely silent and devoid of activity. Lana followed Veni’s lead, bow at the ready, but they did not run into a soul.
At the end of the hall, they reached a stairwell. Lana insisted on taking the lead and Veni did not argue. After shouldering her bow, Lana drew her rarely used sword. It settled into her hand like a long-lost friend.
Together, they advanced up several flights of stairs. When they reached a spiral staircase, Veni slowed, but Lana did not notice. It was only when she did not catch a glimpse of the girl out of the corner of her eye as she rounded the last turn in the stair that she paused and looked back. She could hear Veni’s shoes echoing on the stones, but the girl was far behind.
Lana was leaning over the railing to look for her when she heard a growl behind her. Turning swiftly, she brought her sword up. A clay vase shattered against the blade, the shards peppering her face and hands. Before her stood a ragged woman with rotted teeth and skin more wrinkled than overripe fruit. Her hair was knotted and tangled, flowing over her shoulders and dancing in a light breeze that flowed through the hall.
The woman snarled and lunged at Lana, her claw-like fingernails dirty and yellow. She whispered between the faint growls, words that Lana could not make out as she threw her arms up in defense. She grappled with the old woman, dropping her sword. It clattered down the stairs and she heard a shriek from below.
Shoving the woman back with as much force as she could manage, she freed herself. Using the reprieve, Lana scampered across the platform and away from the stairs. The old woman stood, her eyes wild. They rolled in her head as she advanced.
“Where is she?” breathed the old witch. “You have stolen her. Where is she?”
Lana shook her head, backing up with her hands held before her. “Where is who?” She knew exactly who the woman was talking about, but she was not about to reveal Veni’s position.
“My girl. You stole my girl. I want her back. She stole my creature. I want her back. You stole my creature.”
Lana’s head jarred as she ran into a wall. She looked from side to side trying to find an escape route. To her left stood an open window, to her right several closed doors. The hall was short with no room to run. She was trapped.
With an inhuman scream, the old woman launched herself at Lana, her talons outstretched, searching for blood. She continued to mutter, “I want my girl. You stole my creature,” as she spat and scratched.
Lana fought fiercely, but the strength of madness is great and the witch’s hands settled around Lana’s throat. Lana pounded at her attacker with all her might, her heart thumping heavily in her chest. Her lungs began to burn and black specks floated across her vision.
She had felt this before, the nearness of death, and panic set in. She tried to shout, but her words were choked off. Swinging her knees up, she bashed the woman in the backside, but all it did was put the woman’s weight onto Lana’s throat, causing even more pain. Lana’s strength waned and she knew she could not hold out much longer. She closed her eyes, picturing the faces of her loved ones—her father, Belli, Thorn, Dixon.
Dixon, she thought. Why would she think of him at a time like this? Her heart pounded warmly, a familiar feeling. She knew he would miss her and she knew she would miss him if she could.
Something warm and thick plopped onto Lana’s face, settling into the crease in her eyelid. She opened her eyes, trying to blink away the liquid. A dark stream was pouring from the old witch’s mouth and her snarls had turned to gurgles. Lana felt the grip on her throat lessening. Without warning, the woman shoved away from Lana, staggering to her feet. She whipped around, facing the doorway. Veni stood there, sword in hand, a triumphant, cold look on her face.
Rivanna cocked her head to the side to look at the girl in bewilderment. She opened her mouth to speak, but all that followed was blood. Stumbling, she reached the window and tried to use the ledge to prop herself up. Her hands were slick with blood, however, and her fingers slipped.
She tumbled over the side, dirty skirts whipping in the wind behind her, and disappeared. Lana listened to the choked howls until they ended with a sickening crunch. She wrinkled her nose and stood, propping herself against the wall to catch her breath.
Veni walked to the window and looked out. She stared at the ground for a long time before turning back. When she met Lana’s eyes, her cold gaze melted and she burst into tears. The sword clattered to the floor and Veni sank to the stone. Lana went to her and wrapped her a
rms around the girl. That was how they were found an hour later by Valian and Bellithana—huddled beneath the open window with dried blood on their clothing.
Chapter 23
Ychthorn sat on the raised stage in the front of the large chamber. The room was the fullest he had seen since the end of the war. A quiet murmur settled over the room as he watched Malxon stand to address the crowd.
“In regards to tax adjustments as discussed in the last meeting and voted on yesterday, results are as follows: Yea receives seventy-nine percent. Nay receives twenty-one percent. From this day forth, taxes will follow the new schedule, which will be posted outside the treasurer’s office for all to see. If anyone has questions, please discuss it with the treasurer or make an appointment with the council. As there is no new business to discuss, this meeting is adjourned.”
A cheer went up from most of the crowd, accompanied by grumbling complaints from a small section near the front. As Landow Rokliath had suggested, a new tax schedule was proposed and put up for voting on by the public. Every being above the age of consent was allowed to vote and the response was overwhelming. The poll would be sent to all villages in Layr, but the council had no concerns that it would not pass elsewhere, as well.
“It went better than I could have expected.”
Thorn turned to see Landow beside him. The boy’s gaze was on his father, who was returning the stare. The man’s face was redder than the dragon’s scales and Ychthorn could imagine smoke coming from Jacon’s nostrils. He was livid; that much was clear. As one of the wealthiest men in the city, he would be hit the hardest by this new law, though Thorn doubted it would put too much of a dent in the man’s deep pockets. In addition, many programs that were Jacon’s brainchildren had been dismantled, all with the help of his youngest son.
Thorn leaned over to whisper in the boy’s ear. “I think it would be in your interest to take me up on that offer to have a room in the palace. You may wish to start tonight.”
Landow nodded, a grin spreading across his face. “That would probably be a good idea. He is really mad, isn’t he?”
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