“This evil that this said savior is supposed to save us from…is it Apollyon?”
Owen released a rough laugh. “Far from it. Apollyon is merely a pawn in a larger set of enemies.” He paused to rise. “Once Apollyon is done away with, our people will search for the Crown of Caelae and protect it until the time comes. And just hope that no bigger snake comes for us.”
“How can we know that Apollyon does not already have it?” Cam queried.
“Because if it were not for us, he would have found it already. The mere fact that he is set on destroying us with such lengthy measure shows that he is after something else.”
A moment of silence passed between the three of them until Cam heard her own voice set in a quiet tone. “Ihave the feeling that people like Apollyon were not so powerful years ago.”
Peter nodded, speaking at last in a soft, solemn voice. “Mirabelle was once a place where all of the people followed Elyon, but then humans in their fallen nature took control of it themselves and set up their own morals. Without Elyon at the center of your life, your family, your country, the bad seeps back in again like a plague that no one realizes is doing damage.” Maybe he was right. Cam believed that the nation was in a dangerous position now. They were nearing the edge of a cliff, and if they fell, there would be no return.
“The Shadow Bearers come in three different forms: in the earth, the water and disguised as humans. You can tell they are not human with ease, however, for their features are flawless. The Shadow Bearers of water and earth are called as such because that is where they live. The water Shadow Bearers dwell at the bottom of murky waters such as swamps, rivers, and lakes. Rumors from the east whisper that entire populations dwell in the oceans, but we have yet to see proof of this. The Earth Shadow Bearers are most difficult to detect. They blend into the earth and are a part of the ground itself. They may lurch from the positions in the earth and attack their victims, eventually eating at them with sharp, pointed fangs.”
-The Scarlet Spy
Thirty-Five
Riah could not sleep.
The castle was stirring too loudly for him to gain any rest. Leviathan and Glista were nowhere to be found, but Apollyon and several of the guards, including Barak, were going mad over the escape of their captors. Riah had rushed into the main hall only moments ago to find his father having a hushed, hurried conversation with Barak and a collection of guards.
“We captured the girl who helped them escape,” Barak said with quick dismissal when Riah inquired of what was happening.
“That’s the screaming I heard,” Riah thought uneasily. “So it was Saffira.” His stomach clenched and an ache bloomed in his chest. The screaming had wrenched Riah from his dozing over the books he was supposed to finish translating. The instant the scream had echoed through the castle, followed by a slamming door and clank of chains, Riah knew the sound to be familiar. He had only heard Saffira scream once before when a snake had bitten her. The sound punched him hard in the gut.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid choice Saff,” he muttered silently.
Apollyon eyed him while Barak continued to speak. “I have a man questioning her in the prison right now. And the old man, Briar, he’s gone.”
Apollyon’s expression darkened. “No one received answers from him.”
“I doubt there were any. He was weak. Feeble. If he had known anything, he would have told us,” Barak replied firmly.
“What is wrong with you?” Apollyon demanded sharply, turning his full attention to his fidgeting son.
“Saff-is…she…” Riah winced. The prison was beneath them and the doors open. Even through the clattering of guards up and down the stairs leading to the prisons and caverns below, Riah could hear the distinct cries as a fist beat Saffira. “Let me speak to her!” he shouted sharply. Lowering his voice, he added, “She will tell me whatever it is you need to know.”
Apollyon and Barak were silent while Riah waited nervously. Whatever their answer was, he would see her. He had to explain, to apologize, and he had too… “Make sure she isn’t dead.” He gulped.
“She hasn’t any knowledge useful to us,” Apollyon said with a sigh. “We know where they are headed.”
“I will send a party after them-” Barak began, but Gnosi’s leader interrupted.
“It is better that she released them. It is in our favor.” Both Barak and Riah did not hesitate to reveal their confusion. Apollyon brushed their reactions away saying, “You may speak to her, Riah. You may tell her of her punishment. She will die like the rest of her people, but she will suffer first.”
Riah’s heart pounded. “Alone. I want to see her alone.” Barak slipped a questioning glance to Apollyon. The latter nodded. Riah rushed after Barak as the burly man descended into the dank, torchlit dungeons. As the light flickered in Riah’s view, Saffira was seen kneeling before a tall, stern man holding a whip. Her back was not yet bleeding. He was only beginning to use the whip, but her mouth, cheeks, and eyes were puffy and swollen. She lifted her head. She was gritting her teeth to prevent the raging cry contained within her. Her doe eyes blazed with golden flames even while they were glazed with tears.
A strangled cry wrenched from Riah’s throat as he pushed forward. “Leave!” he shouted. Barak’s men hesitated for a brief moment before obeying and disappeared from the lower level of the castle altogether.
Gnosi’s prince did not spare any time to peer into theempty cells to see who else was here. He crashed to his knees before Saffira, lifting her head gently. As much as he didn’t want to cry, he didn’t try to prevent the sobs that tore through his body. She did not protest as he pulled her into his arms, holding her tight against him.
After a moment, her hand came to grasp his arm. She trembled in pain, and her lips quivered as she said, “I let them go. You can kill me for it, but I do not regret it. But he is my brother.” Riah pulled back enough to cup her face.
He shook his head. “You shouldn’t have done that, Saff,” he rasped.
“I had too,” she spit.
“No, no.” He shook his head again, this time more aggressively. “Even if you helped them thinking it was safe, it wasn’t. If they bring their people here, they will die.”
Saffira’s expression did not drain as he had expected. Instead, she forced a smile onto her lips. “I knew exactly what I was doing. I have a plan, Riah, but you have to let me go.”
Saffira attempted to rise, but she winced and cried out in pain. Riah pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. “Don’t move,” he whispered. “Stay here…let me…” He did not finish as he supported her against the wall of stone separating two cells. He darted to where the door was and found a pitcher of water and a tattered rag. “What did they do to you?” He bent as he plunged the rag into the water.
“Read my face and tell me.”
“They beat you,” Riah choked out.
“They dragged me down here by my hair-”
“Didn’t you think you’d be caught?” Riah exclaimed, cutting into her sentence.
Saffira held his gaze as his hand came up to brush her wounds with the wet rag. Finally, her lips parted and she rasped, “I knew you would come for me.” Riah’s heart cracked. He could no longer hold her gaze. His eyes dropped to her legs which were strewn with minor cuts and scratches. “And I know you will let me go…” Riah pinned her with a look that questioned why she would know that. “Because if you don’t, they’ll kill me.”
“Are you willing to die?”
“Not yet. I have to finish this.”
“Finish what?”
Saffira did not reply. Riah lifted the rag to her face again. She leaned back as he applied the cold pressure. He began to cry again, quietly this time but with the tears dripping to her exposed calves.
“Why are you crying?” She whispered, her eyes opening slowly. Riah held her gaze as her fingers came to trace his tears. She smiled. “You never cry in front of me.”
Riah made the enormous effort to
speak around the aching lump in his throat. “Because…because even after I killed all those people, you still let me touch you.”
Saffira’s brows knit together. She leaned forward, brushing her fingers down his neck to his shoulders where her hands clamped tightly over them. “You were forced, Riah. That wasn’t your decision. And you...you didn't poison them yourself. Did you?”
“I chose to let them die because I wanted to be something more.”
Saffira’s expression froze, only her mouth dropping slightly. Riah shifted uneasily, feeling sudden sickness at his outburst. “I killed your people. I killed your people because it was the only way. I shouldn’t have. It isn’t worth it seeing youlikethis,Saff, but it was the only way to become”
“Become what?” Her expression was stone cold. “Become like him?” Bothknewshewas speakingofLeviathan.Riah shookhis head, tears streaming down his cheeks as he denied it. He knew deep inside that his emphatic denial was indeed another lie. “Get me out of here,” Saffira demanded quietly after a long moment of silence.
Riah shook his head. “You’re too weak.”
“There isn’t time to heal. Help me escape. Now,” she objected. Saffira lifted her head to lock her gaze with Riah’s.
Gnosi’s heir reached for her, grasping the back of her neck as his fingers tangled in her hair. He pulled her to his chest and folded his arms around her once more. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this,” he murmured into her hair.
Saffira pushed gently against his chest so she could peer up into his face. “Tell them you banished me.”
Riah nodded slowly. “You will need some things: food, water…” He glanced over her wounded face and nearly convulsed into cries again. “And medicine. You will need to apply it every-”
Abstracting Saffira from the castle was a difficult task indeed. With clenched heart, Riah placed the blindfold over her eyes, a rope around her wrists, and a stern expression over his countenance. He concealed her luggage carrier beneath his cloak and marched her past the guards and outside. “Tell Barak I am taking care of it,” he ordered. No one moved.
When they were a safe distance away, concealed in the trees, he untied the blindfold and rope and fastened her luggage next to the saddle bag which was already filled with food. She staggered beside him.
When all her supplies was concealed away, he undid his cloak and draped it over her shoulders. Riah grasped her hands in both is his. “I am sorry, Saff, for everything…” He would have went on but the choke in his throat prevented him from doing so.
Saffira squeezedhis hands. “WhenI comeback for you, after all of this is over, you can prove it to me. When I come back, you will tell me if you have made up your mind to go wherever you were planning on going with that thing, or you stay with me.”
Riah shook his head, his eyes glazing again. “You don’t want me to stay with you.”
“You don’t know that,” she said softly, reaching up to pull his head down to hers. She placed a gentle kiss on his brow. She pulled away a moment too early, and Riah felt suddenly cold. “I have been banished. Remember that. And Riah?” He flicked his gaze to her. She was wiping tears from her cheeks. “Bury him for me. He was a good man, and he should have died at home with his granddaughters. Cam shouldn’t have seen him like that.”
Riah’s mind flashed to the glimpse of the old man’s corpse in the dungeons. “I will bury him for you.” She gave him a thankful smile before she whisked the horse off into the night. Riah stood for a long time in that forest with moonlight cast all around him. He stood until his chilled bones urged him inside.
But he did not remain inside for long.
He hauled the man’s body over his back, trudged outside and found a desolate hill. For a long couple of hours, he dug into the wet ground, casting dirt over his head. He did not bury a girl that night but a stranger he had never known; a stranger who made him feel every drop of pain those Spirit Followers had when the poison had choked their bodies and left them breathless and pale on the throne room floor.
“Let me show you something," Peter said to Cam after Owen's
departure. They too left the cavern and continued down the passageway. "Over the centuries, the Spirit Followers have gathered and written words sent by Elyon to be our guide." With this, Peter opened another door, and they entered a smaller room, occupied only by a small table set with a thick, leather-bound volume which seemed ancient.
Peter carefully picked up the book and placed it in Cam’s hands. “Read this,” he said softly, opening the book to yellowed page. “The Spirit of Elyon has made me, and the breath of the Almighty gives me life.” When she had read the line he had indicated, Peter turned to another page. “For My people have committed two evils: They have forsaken Me, the fountain of living waters, And hewn themselves cisterns—broken cisterns that can hold no water.”
The next paragraph Peter pointed out read: “Therefore, since we are receiving a nation which cannot be shaken, let us have grace, by which we may serve Elyon acceptably with reverence and godly fear, for our Elyon is a consuming fire.”
The last line read, “Iamthevine,youare thebranches.He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing.” Cam set the book down, recognizing a pattern in the passages Peter had chosen. The breath of life came into man, creating humans. The people of the nation forsake their creator and now the nation would perish if it did not abide in Elyon. This was exactly what the Spirit Followers believed. As for Cam, she could not yet decipher.
“Maybe that will help you understand some of what we stand for,” Peter said. Cam gazed at him absentmindedly until he laced his fingers through hers and smiled slightly. He desired her to believe.
“How do you believe all of this? What makes you believe?” Peter tilted his head slightly. "Because answers that make sense, revealing the mysteries of our world."
Cam gazed at him for a long moment. Finally, she said, “You and your people have something I do not. Something that is good.” Peter nodded. “But I am not sure if I want it. What sort of commitment does it take?”
Cam and Peter shared a room the night they arrived at the Spirit
Follower’s dwelling. They were taken to another stone fortress, larger than the one they were at previously and were given a room as comfortable as the one Cam had had in her home in the Medulla Realm.
That night Cam lay in bed listening to Peter’s steady breathing long after he had fallen asleep. Cam too felt quite tired but sleep would not come to her whirling mind. She stared ahead at the large window opening out over the night. A banner made of old cloth was strung across the top, revealing five symbols. A picture of a dove was in the middle. To the left were the symbols that marked Gnosi and Medulla. To the right were those which indicated Imber Fel and Cinis Lumen. And the fifth…a sign of rebellion but also of something else, something the Spirit Followers believed in. The image of the dove faded as she finally drifted off to sleep.
Cam stood on a ledge overlooking the valley. Heavy rain clouds
hung in the air, threatening to burst at any moment. Cam stood near the edge of the ledge, pulling her black cloak around her shoulders as her black hair was blown back by a steady wind. It was early morning, and she had crept out of her room to get some alone time and to mull over the recent information from Owen.
“Cam.” She turned her head slightly to see Owen standing beside her. “You’re up early.”
“So are you, but then you were always an early bird.” The prickling, morning cold tingled through her skin. Owen slipped a warm, calloused hand through hers, and for a second, the image of them dancing at her birthday ball flashed through her mind. She flushed, suddenly wondering what his intentions were. They had always been friends, but perhaps he wished to be more. Cam realized she didn’t want him too; she didn’t want anyone to yet.
"Cam, I must ask you something." She cringed inwardly as his shaky words entered her ear. She squeezed his hand slightly and let go, turning
to meet his gaze. To her surprise, his eyes were glazed over. He swallowed and said, "Peter and I talked last night and…he told me about your journey." For a brief instant, she thought Owen was speaking of the experiences she and Peter had shared. Then he said, "How'd she die Cam? How did Terra die?"
A tear slipped through each of his green eyes and slid down his chapped cheeks. She caught a sob in her own throat before slowly recountingtheincident to Owen. “Shewas too sick andweak and…” Tears welled up in her eyes and Owen took her in his arms. He held her for a long moment.
Owen’s scratchy voice broke the silence. “I loved her, you know.” His tone was barely audible.
“We all did,” she mumbled against his chest.
“No. you don’t understand,” he said roughly, pulling Cam away from him by her shoulders to look her in theeye. “I was in love with her.” Cam opened her mouth, but no words could form. She began to feel stupid and all the more sorrowful. Owen loved her sister and the whole time she thought he was attracted to her. “I should have told her before I left. She should have known before she” He was stopped by an uncontrollable sob, and Cam wrapped him in an embrace, lending him her comfort.
She was sure of one thing. Owen was her friend, her very dear and close friend and nothing more. “I wish she could have known too,” shesaid, reachingahandup toswipeaway theremainingtears on Owen’s face.Hiseyes wereswollen andredas ifhehadcriedlong hours without sleep.
“Owen, she would have loved you more than a friend if she knew that you followed…Elyon.” Cam paused, not sure how to put the words. There was no doubt that Terra was a Spirit Follower, whether she herself ever knew it or not. She had a way about her that was glowing and vibrant. She believed in something she had asked to come into her. Owen, Peter, Lia, Amelia and all the others Cam had encountered were the same way.
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