by T B Phillips
Abruptly, Eusari was no longer lying on the ground in the city. She was onboard She Wolf, pacing back and forth, growling and whining as the boat drew nearer to the harbor. She could hear the voice of Peter as he tried to console her, “Easy now, boy. She’s alright, she is. Steady now.” And then he spoke to someone else nearby, “Mate, pull in close as we sail by Ice Prince. I want to holler at Braen.”
Braen had run to the stern of his ship and was flagging them down as they passed. “Eusari is still in the city!” He shouted.
“I’m right here, Braen!” She tried to yell to him, but only made a howl. Frustrated, she moved to the rail and stood up on her hind legs to peer at the harbor. She saw the soldiers, now advancing through the gate as Krill fired salvo after salvo of grapeshot to keep them back. She moved back from the rail, and with a running leap cleared the distance between the two ships, padded feet landing softly on the wooden deck of Ice Prince and then onto the pier. She raced toward the gate, ignoring both the grapeshot and the soldiers firing crossbows at Braen’s crew.
Ahead she saw three Falconers standing over the frame of a small woman dressed in black. She looked dead, but Eusari sprinted toward the specters, somehow knowing that she could still help the girl. She leaped at the first Falconer and he spun around in shock, trying to move away. She adjusted in the air and her strong jaws grabbed his arm, dragging him down onto the cobblestones. Once she had him down, she grabbed ahold of his throat with her sharp teeth, ripping flesh and tasting the warm metallic blood on her tongue.
Satisfied that the first Falconer would not get up, she turned toward the others and squared off, growling and showing bloody fangs.
“No.” The taller of the two said. “That’s not possible. There’s no way that Spring has awakened too!” He tried to throw ropes of air around her, but he could not control three beings at once.
She fell to the ground as bonds formed around her muzzle and paws. Behind the feathered monster, the girl stood, freed and with eyes afire with hatred. She clapped her hands and the ground rumbled. She rubbed them slowly, and the earth shook beneath their feet, knocking the second Falconer to the ground. Faster she rubbed and faster and harder the ground shook until the weakened walls of the harbor gate fell atop hundreds of soldiers, crushing them beneath the weight.
All at once, Eusari was herself. She could see the crumbled walls and the remaining soldiers scattered and trying to regain their footing. She faced two Falconers, one of which stood next to a tree by a market stall. She reached out and became the tree. With a smile she wrapped her limbs around the man’s throat, twisting and choking until he dangled from the tallest branches like a thief from the gallows.
Standing again as herself, she sensed thousands of tiny sentient lifeforms in the city. Smiling at the Falconer before her, she reached out and became them all. Spiders and insects of all shapes and sizes emerged from the shadows, converging on the tall, feathered man. Rats emerged in droves, biting and tearing at his flesh like fleas on a dog. When he had finally stopped struggling beneath their weight, the tiny army turned on the remaining soldiers and the ants cleaned his bones.
Braen and his men fell to the deck as the ground beneath the city rumbled, pulling against the ropes tied to Ice Prince. His ship shook violently, and terror gripped the crew. They desperately tried to cast off the lines, but the ropes were pulled taut and could not unwind from the chocks. Climbing to his feet, he strained his eyes to see beyond the fallen wall, desperately wishing he could see through the dust and snow. Moments later the shaking stopped.
Finally, after what appeared an eternity, he spotted Eusari and her wolf climbing over the rubble, carefully picking their way down the other side. He ran to them, catching her as she fell, exhausted, into his arms. He scooped up her tiny frame and carried her back to Ice Prince, tears flowing down his cheeks. Krill and the crew cast the lines and the sleek ship caught the river current. Together, the two ships raced to open sea and toward Estowen’s Landing.
Braen had carried his friend below decks and laid her atop the bed in his stateroom. She was conscious and stared up with exhaustion. Smiling down at her, he whispered, “I thought I had lost you.”
“I think you did for a minute.” Her smile was beautiful, green eyes taking on a bit of blue as his own reflected in hers.
“I don’t think I could’ve handled that, if I had.” He smiled shyly at how close they were, feeling her warmth and noticing her as a woman atop the bed. How had he missed her beauty? In that moment she was the most spectacular woman he had ever known. Trying to change the subject, he said, “You were wonderful tonight. But how did you get away? I saw you lying on the ground not moving.”
She lifted a finger and gently shushed him. “Later. Let’s talk later. Right now, I just want you to kiss me.” And he did. Long and slow and with a lover’s embrace.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Taros sat next to Sarai in the Palace Garden. They came here often to sit and talk or to just enjoy each other’s company. They talked about the snow that had fallen in the night, how it had blanketed the city and somehow quieted the world around them. She would point out a bird that had forgotten to fly south, or a squirrel not yet asleep for the season. Despite their actual conversation, every word they exchanged fed his feelings and his love had grown.
He felt several emotions. First, was joy from being near Sarai. He loved how his pulse quickened every time her skin brushed his own. Next, was nervousness as he carefully tried not to upset her. In his mind Sarai was a beautiful bird that could fly away at any moment. But the feeling that overwhelmed him on this midday in the garden was fear that she would tire of his company and break his heart with rejection.
He wished so badly that his mother still lived. Lynette would have guided him through this, helping him find the words to express his feelings. His mother was always tender and understanding, unlike the other Pescari women who closed off their emotions. Like Sarai, his mother had lived with her feelings on the wind, finding joy in a breeze or a fallen acorn. Thinking of his mother brought more sadness to his heart, and he yearned so badly to touch Sarai’s hand like he had in the market square.
He had tried speaking about these feelings with Teot, but his uncle had urged him to find a woman in his own tribe. He had even told him that Daska’s granddaughter Flaya would be a good match. “She is hearty and strong,” he had said. “She knows our ways and will be your equal. Avoid the Westonese woman,” he had warned, “she knows only servants and will make one of you as well.”
Sarai, as intuitive as ever, must have sensed his musings. She delicately reached out her hand and touched his arm. “Are you well, Taros? What troubles you?”
He blushed at her touch. “Nothing. I am just so happy to be near you. I enjoy our talks very much.”
Her smile filled her face at his words. “I do too, Taros. You’re special, and I’m happy that you and your people are here.”
“You have done so much for us, Sarai.”
“Well of course!” Her smile was radiant and lit up her beautiful face. “You are good people who lost everything. I want you to feel welcome as you get back on your feet.”
“Thank you for being so nice to me. Especially… Especially after what I caused to your father.”
She grabbed his hand in her own and looked him directly in the eye, her face suddenly very serious. Taros drew a breath as she spoke, “I know that the others fear you for what you can do and for what you did. But I know that it was an accident.”
“Sarai, I…”
She cut him off. “No. You listen to me. You are a good man with a sweet soul, Taros. I understand that you were grief-stricken. You don’t need to apologize ever again. Do you understand me?”
He nodded silently, very much aware of his hands within her own. She was so close to him now that he could smell her scent. Pescari women smelled dull like the land, but Sarai always sme
lled like she had been rolling in a field of spring flowers. He felt drawn toward her. Leaning in, he closed his eyes and kissed her soft lips.
She recoiled in shock, pushing him back and laughing. “Woah! What was that?”
Taros leaped to his feet. “I… I’m sorry!”
Sarai was still laughing. “Taros, I don’t feel that way about you. I’m sorry, I don’t love you.”
The words bit into the Pescari youth like a viper and he stood. “So, all of this… All of your flirtations…” He narrowed his eyes as anger brimmed. “Was I a game to you?” Realization dawned. “Were you tasked with spending time with me?”
“No!” Sarai sputtered. “Well, yes I was asked to spend time with you, but you were not a game!” She looked afraid, as if she were hiding more truth behind her lies. “Taros.” She moved in to touch his arm, but he pulled away from her touch.
“Who? Who told you to spend time with me?”
“Cassus did. He asked me to make you welcome and become your friend.” She was too nervous and was definitely hiding more truth.
He felt the fire burn within, again building to dangerous levels. He wanted so badly to calm himself, to believe that she was truly his friend. “You have been lying to me. You made me fall in love with you so that you could use me and take advantage!”
“No, Taros!” She pleaded, eyes round with fear.
Her eyes were enough for him and he spun around to leave before he lost his temper. She would not fear him if she was truly his friend.
She stood and ran toward him, grabbing his upper arm and turning him toward her. “Taros, I’m sorry. I like you, but I cannot love you. I…”
A blast of heat exploded from his body, sending her flying backward. She landed hard and sprawled in the snow, steam rising as it instantly melted around her. Her woolen dress melted into her skin as it burned and her once beautiful yellow hair singed atop her head. Large blisters filled half of her face, the other half red and swollen.
She said that she cannot love me. Not now. Not ever. She had not explained, but she did not need to. She thinks I am a monster. He looked at her, lying on the ground as pain racked her body. She convulsed as he watched, pitying her. He raised his hand to end her suffering.
Something hit Taros from behind and he was flung across the garden, his body hitting hard against the stone wall of the palace. Stunned, he tried to stand, head swimming from the impact.
Standing across the garden was Robert Esterling, the prince who had attended the council on the night of Lynette’s death. “Leave her alone, Taros.” The boy cautioned, his once white uniform turned completely black from dirt, soot and grime. He was walking toward the unconscious form of Sarai in the middle of the courtyard.
Taros felt his orientation returning and stood. In a way he respected the courage of the boy, but death was the prize for challenging Felicima’s Shappan. He raised his hand and flung a firebolt toward Robert’s head. It was deflected several feet in front of Robert, slicing off to strike the palace wall.
“You can’t fight me, Taros, because I’m as powerful as you. Stop now and go back to your people.”
The blasphemy from the prince’s mouth infuriated the Shappan even more. “I am a god, Andalonian. You are but a man.” He focused his anger into a constant stream of fire that sped out across the courtyard, again failing to hit his mark. The prince was moving his hands in a circular motion, seemingly catching the fire in a whirlwind. The fire tornado grew in the boy’s hands and he set it down in front of him, hurtling it back at Taros with tremendous strength.
Although the flames did not burn, he was too stunned to block the fiery cyclone as it struck him, exploding and sending him again flying through the garden. Dazed, Taros lay on the ground, head throbbing from a second blow to his head. He tried to stand. Barely able to keep his feet, he took two steps toward Robert and crashed into an invisible barrier. He tried to burn the shield of air that had formed around him, but only succeeded in filling the area around him with flames.
Within seconds, his flame had consumed all of the oxygen around him. He felt a surge of panic as he began to suffocate inside the sphere. His own fire extinguished, he finally lay down gasping for air. Helpless, Taros watched as Robert Esterling picked Sarai up into his arms and strode out of the garden. Tears formed in the Pescari boy’s eyes as he closed them to die.
Maximus Reeves watched the city from his usual spot atop the hill. A glance at the sky revealed that it was midday, and the air was brisk from the fresh snow that had fallen the night before. He had promised Robert that he could stay for three more days, and today was the deadline. Tonight, he would sneak into the city and drag the prince back to the camp if the boy refused to come willingly.
Captain Titus approached him from the camp at a hurried pace. “General Reeves, we have an urgent dispatch from our allies in Eskera.” He handed a slip of parchment to his senior officer and stood by for his orders.
Maximus took the paper and read it several times before addressing the captain. “Is this true?”
“It has to be, sir.”
“Then we need to get the boy out of the city right now. If we cannot take and hold Eskera before these reinforcements arrive, then Robert’s hopes to hold the throne are lost.”
Titus nodded his agreement. “Shall I break camp, General?”
“Yes. Break camp immediately and prepare to move south. We’ll have to keep a forced march pace if we’re to beat the arrival of the boats.”
“I estimate they’ll arrive in four or five days, sir.”
“Then we will have to make it in three.” With that the general rushed off without returning Titus’ salute.
With a kick Max spurred his horse and the general raced toward the city wall. He did not stop at the gate as he blew past the city guard in his rush to find Robert. Ignoring the shouts from behind, he dismounted at the bakery. He pulled himself onto the upper level and found the nest empty, but an explosion from the direction of the palace turned his attention to the garden. The loft had a perfect view into the courtyard and he clearly saw the two boys squaring off in a fiery battle. Sarai lay on the ground between them, burned and unmoving.
The general froze. He watched as Robert caught Taros’ fire, twisting it and mixing it with air. Then he sent the towering cyclone of fire racing toward the Pescari, sending him flying through the air and slamming against the wall. He jumped down from the loft into the snow and ran to the garden. Five city guardsmen followed in pursuit. He made it inside the gate just as Robert emerged with the limp body of Sarai Horslei draped in his arms. “You need to take her, Max. Get her to the camp and I’ll follow.”
Nodding, General Reeves took her into his arms and then turned to face the five men blocking his way. Before he could address them, Robert sent them flying across the street, clearing the path. Turning back, he hollered to his protégé, “You’d better do what you’re doing quickly. Your brother is reinforcing Eskera and we need to get there before they arrive. You’re in a civil war now.”
Robert nodded as the guardsmen tried to get to their feet. With another blast of air, he sent them sprawling backward.
Max set the injured girl across his saddle and rode out through the gate toward the camp. Ahead he saw the surgical tent and headed directly for it. Once inside he lay the girl down and a contingent of medics rushed to salve her burns. Tears filled his eyes as he looked at her hideously burned face. She would no longer be the visage of beauty that she had been, and his heart broke for her. He prayed that if she woke up, she would finally forgive his son.
Robert watched the general ride out through the gate, pleased that the guardsmen knew better than to follow him. Then he slowly walked back into the garden to finish with the boy. Taros lay where he had left him, unconscious from lack of oxygen. Kneeling down, he could see a slight bluish tint to the boy’s lips. With a wave of his hand he removed t
he bubble and focused a stream of air into his mouth to restart his breathing. Taros awoke with a start, lurching up onto his knees and gasping in air on his own.
Robert leaned in closely, whispering low and clear into the ear of the Pescari boy, “I have wanted you dead since you burned her city, but I’m giving you a second chance to clean your mess. Not because I want to, mind you, but because that is what she would ask me if she still had a voice. I should kill you now and I still can.” Taros stared up at him, hands clasped around his own throat and eyes large with both fright and awe. “You’re not a god, Taros of the Pescari. You are a sniveling child who lives because I allow it. I own your life.” With a final blast of air Robert pushed the boy to the ground, again knocking him breathless but only momentarily.
At that moment several people entered the garden, among them was Cassus Eachann. “Step away from the Shappan, Prince Robert.”
“I can’t do that, Councilman.”
“You will.”
“I won’t.” He shook his head. “He tried to kill Sarai.”
“I sincerely doubt that. We just saw you kidnap and hand her off to General Reeves. Most likely Taros tried to stop you.”
Robert looked around. Twenty city guardsmen stood beside the councilman and between him and freedom. “I’m going now, Eachann.”
“I’m afraid not. We’re placing you under arrest. Your brother, the rightful heir to the empire, has issued a warrant for you. By that authority I arrest you for treason and kidnapping.”
Robert could not help himself and let out a laugh. “You’re a fool, Cassus.” With a wave of his arm he sent the entire collection of men flying backward in a gust of wind. Casually he left the gardens, chose a horse from the stables, and rode out to rejoin his army.
Chapter Thirty-Nine