Heirs of War, Crown of Flames

by Mara Valderran

  Zelene cut across her placating words. “No amount of time is going to excuse the way Ellowyn and the others are treated.” She stepped forward, her temper calmed slightly from Rhaya's show of support. “Look, I get that there isn't really a place for people who don't have magic right now. But don't you think it's time we make a place for them? They are still living, breathing people,” she said, recalling the words of the woman she'd met in the kitchens, “which means they deserve our respect and our care. Every single person in these worlds deserves to have someone fight for them.”

  Solanna snapped to attention. “What did you just say?”

  Sylvanna ignored Solanna’s question. “This is ridiculous. This is not up for discussion, girls. Zelene, you have violated our ways and defied our customs. We will set this straight and you will keep away from the Tainted from now on. Your maid will be replaced and sent elsewhere. Perhaps that will force you to think of the consequences of your actions.”

  “No,” Zelene shouted. This was exactly what had been done to the girl Nolan had fallen in love with and she would not see the same thing happen to Ellowyn. “If you want her, you have to go through me.”

  “And me,” Rhaya said. She took a step closer to Zelene to further show their solidarity on the issue.

  Meridel scoffed at this. “Don't be silly, Rhaya. Neither one of you have scratched the surface of your powers. Zelene is no better than her maid right now as far as her abilities go. You can't possibly think that you could try to fight the three of us in your state.”

  “We don't need to fight you physically,” her daughter explained as she linked hands with Zelene. “You're forgetting something that you told us from the beginning. We represent hope for the people. We are supposed to be the most powerful people in existence, even more powerful than you, the Duillaine Banair. If you try to change what Zelene did, you are showing the people that she has no power—that we have no power. They'll start to doubt us and the Prophecy and then they might decide that the Cahirans are the better option.”

  “Yeah,” Zelene agreed enthusiastically, having not thought of this herself and suddenly very grateful to have Rhaya at her side. “So I suggest you leave the Tainted—including Ellowyn—alone. If I hear so much as a rumor that you've done anything to Ellowyn or anyone else like her, I will shout from the rooftops about how I can't do a stinking bit of magic.”

  Solanna's blue-green eyes were the only set that weren't furious on the platform before them. Hers were soft and sad, and still locked onto Zelene with intrigue. “They're right. The people look to the girls for leadership even now. They are meant to lead them into a new era. We must give them room to do so or else we risk thwarting the Prophecy. And isn't that what you are always insisting we must avoid, Sylvanna?”

  Sylvanna didn't look happy about this. “Very well. But I must warn you against anymore rash actions, Zelene. Solanna was right. You do not understand our world at all and from what Adelphi has told us, you are not even attempting to do so. Perhaps if you devoted as much time to your studies as you did to the Tainted girl,” she said the words as if they left a bad taste on her tongue, “then you wouldn't be so lacking in skills that you can only threaten us with words.”

  “And maybe if you weren't too cowardly to take action against the Cahirans on your own, you wouldn't have depend on some half assed prophecy and a group of teenagers to save everyone,” Zelene shot back. Ignoring Rhaya's grip tightening around her hand in warning, she stepped forward. “Tell me, how's the search for my sister going? Still content to let her rot in Cahira? Or are you just hoping that Isauria won't kick the bucket again before she finds them for you?”

  “You sound just like your Dad,” Rhaya said proudly. “He said pretty much the same thing when Ariana escaped.”

  Rhaya's words only served to reinvigorate Zelene with a new purpose now that they had won the battle concerning the Tainted. “Speaking of my father, where is he? No one's seen him in over a month and Nolan seems pretty sure he wouldn't have left for some mission without saying goodbye. Where is he really?”

  Sylvanna's hands tightened around the arms of her chair, her knuckles growing white. “As we have told you many times before, as well as Nolan, your father was sent on a very important errand for us. We do not know when to expect his return. Now I suggest you focus on—”

  “You're lying.”

  Everyone looked to Rhaya. Her voice held no question, no contempt. Only shock. She looked back and forth between the three Duillaine Banair, her pained expression begging them to dispel the realization growing in her mind.

  “How did I not see it before?” Rhaya said to herself and turned apologetically to Zelene. “They told him he needed time to cool his head after he threatened to amass an army to go after Ariana himself.”

  Zelene was also stunned. “What? When was this? Why didn't you tell me?”

  Rhaya gestured angrily at the women shifting uncomfortably in front of them. “I didn't realize what it meant! It was right after everything with Kyle . . . ”

  Zelene shook her head, unable to believe any of this. She had been furious at her father since he disappeared, thinking he abandoned her and her sisters in their time of need. When he had really been trying to fight for them, just like their mother had. “He was going to go after Ariana?”

  Rhaya wasn’t paying attention to her cousin. Instead, she turned back to the Duillaine. “What did you mean? When you told him he needed time to cool his head?”

  Sylvanna’s face was devoid of all emotion. “That is why he was sent on this particular errand. Maistir Arland's emotional attachments here were clouding his judgment. Some time away will serve him well.”

  Rhaya's scrutinizing gaze drifted to Solanna. “No, you're still lying. I can tell. If you weren't, Solanna wouldn't be feeling so bad right now. What do you have to feel bad about?” she asked Solanna, whose face was now significantly paler. “What did you do to Arland?”

  No one answered. Meridel pressed her lips together so firmly that it looked as though she was trying to keep them from revealing the truth. Solanna looked heartbroken, which caused Zelene to pale with fear.

  “Answer her,” Zelene demanded and rushed forward to the edge of the platform. “What did you do to my father? Tell me!”

  Rhaya clamped her hand over her mouth, horrified tears trailing down her cheeks. She eased toward the dais and stood directly in front of Meridel. “Mom? Please,” she begged, her voice cracking.

  “He's in the dungeons,” Solanna answered in a whisper against the hisses and protests of her fellow rulers. “She deserves the truth, Sylvanna. It is cruel to keep him there as long as you have! He’s lost Nandalia, his children have only just returned—”

  “We all lost Nandalia,” Sylvanna responded, her voice raised as she came to her feet. “Arland has remained imprisoned because he still refuses to see reason.”

  Rhaya took a step back from her mother, shaking her head. “This is how you treat people who disagree with you? You lock them up and throw away the key until they change their minds?”

  “Where are the dungeons?” Zelene demanded. When no one made a move to direct her, she turned on her heel to march out of the room. “I'll find them myself.”

  Sylvanna held out her hand and Zelene smacked against a wall of air that kept blowing her backwards when she tried to move forward. She clenched her fists at her sides and slowly turned around. The effect was menacing as the wall of wind behind her whipped her hair around her face. She only had eyes for Sylvanna, who stepped down from the platform and walked toward her with her hand still outstretched.

  “We have enough problems on our hands without dealing with your father's threats of amassing a rebellion against us,” Sylvanna said in a quiet and threatening voice. “If you do not stand down, then you can join him and we will spread word of your illness to excuse your absence. Do not test me, child.”

  Zelene could feel the anger building in her chest as Sylvanna spoke. It rushed through her vein
s. Her fingertips tingled with the feel of it and she embraced it, letting it fuel her. She would not sit back any longer. And she would not allow them to treat her father this way. Her father, who had embraced her unconditionally with all the love she had craved since she was a child. She was tired of having the things she cared about ripped from her. The parents she had known as a child. Kyle. Varrick. And now her father? No.

  She didn't realize that she had said it out loud until she felt the wall of air begin to wrap around her. She opened her hand and turned it in one fluid motion so natural that she didn't quite know what she was doing until it was done. To anyone who was looking, it would look like Zelene scooped a chunk of the air around her and threw it back at Sylvanna, knocking her backwards with such gusto that the Duillaine Banair was thrown ten feet. Sylvanna landed at the edge of the platform, a low moan escaping her lips. Meridel jumped to her feet in an instant and aimed her palm defensively at Zelene. Rhaya immediately stepped in between her mother and Zelene, her hands outstretched protectively and aimed at her mother.

  “Don't make me do it,” Rhaya begged her mother and swallowed nervously.

  The stunning turn of events seemed to shock them both into a standstill until her mother finally dropped her hand. Both Zelene and Rhaya backed out of the room, still on the alert for any sign of attack from the Duillaine Banair. Meridel seemed to be locked in her own heartbreak over the line that now divided her from her daughter, and Solanna made no move to stop them as she knelt beside Sylvanna. She almost looked proud.

  Rhaya slammed the door behind them and grabbed Zelene's hand before taking off in a full run. They rounded a corner and nearly ran right into Nolan. He looked back and forth between the two of them and his usually happy greeting morphed into fear as he began to think the worst.

  “Are we being attacked?” he asked.

  Rhaya threw a look over her shoulder. “Not yet. Zelene sort of just . . . knocked Sylvanna out,” she finished in a rush.

  Zelene thought her brother's eyes might pop out of his head when he focused on her. “It's a long story, but do you know where the dungeons are? I kinda need to get there in a hurry.”

  “Are you being sent there?” he asked incredulously. “Why do you need to know where the dungeons are? And why would you attack—”

  “Because I was thinking of breaking our father out and I thought you might want to help with that,” Zelene interrupted him.

  His jaw hung open at her words. “Our father? In the dungeons?”

  “Didn't I say it was a long story and I'm in a hurry?”

  He looked to Rhaya for some sign to dispute Zelene's claims, but she gave none. His face hardened as the truth washed over him. “Follow me,” he said. He swiveled and led them down the stairs.

  The dungeons were located on the outermost ring of buildings in what Zelene had come to think of as the back of Anscombe. It was hard to say which end was which in a circular town, but she had judged Anamlar, which housed the main dining room and the assembly room, to be the front of the city. They were headed away from that building now, marching through the courtyard and the raised archway that led to the market outside of Tinalar, Zelene's building. There was another ring of buildings outside the market and then at last they reached the last set of structures situated around the edge of the small island overlooking the crater below.

  “We don't keep many prisoners in Anscombe,” Nolan explained as they entered the large rectangular stone building before them. A watchtower stood on either side, one bordering the archway that led to the town of Anscombe and the other bordering another identical building. “That’s why our dungeons aren’t very big or heavily guarded. It’s mainly petty thieves and small crimes that are housed here. The more dangerous criminals are taken elsewhere, for the safety of the Duillaine.”

  Zelene rolled her eyes. The Duillaine were the most powerful people in all the worlds, and they needed protecting. It was more backwards than she could possibly hope to convey. “What's in the other buildings?”

  “Siegwards, the guards of Anscombe,” he answered and stopped in front of the two guards at the entryway. “We are here to release a prisoner.”

  “What prisoner and on whose authority?” the guard asked. His voice was muffled by the sound of the helmet that covered his face. They were both dressed similarly to the Cynewards, only their black garments were underneath layers of chain mail armor with a metal breast plate instead of a leather one.

  “Arland,” Zelene answered with a biting glare, “and on my authority.”

  Nolan gestured sweepingly to the two young women at his side. “I present to you Ainnir Zelene and Ainnir Rhaya.”

  Both guards dropped to their knees. “Please forgive our demeanor, Duillaine Ainnir. We did not recognize you.”

  “It isn't customary for people of your position to make a personal visit,” Nolan said to Zelene and then impatiently gestured for the men to stand up. “Do you or do you not have a prisoner here by the name of Arland?”

  “We do,” the other guard said, his voice significantly deeper than his companion's. He unlocked the door and led the trio forward. The cells were mostly empty, with the occasional criminal clawing at the bars or huddled in a corner covered in their own filth and grime. He stopped in front of a cell towards the back and unlocked it.

  Arland was curled on the pile of straw collected at the back of his prison. The back and side walls were made of thick concrete. The fourth, which they now faced, was a collection of metal bars too close together to squeeze between and the hinged door they would pass through. A small bucket sat in the corner, but not far enough to keep the rancid smells from burning their nostrils. The floors were covered in dirt and dust from the concrete walls. It covered Arland's usually light brown hair, making it look like the few gray streaks he had had multiplied significantly. The small beard he had been sporting before was now much longer and thicker, and his skin was filthy. He was sleeping, looking as peaceful as though he was in his own bed instead of a jail cell.

  Nolan stood rooted at the door to his father’s cell, his face distorted with a mix of anger and shock. “Guard, go get the paion. My father is unwell.”

  Zelene knelt down in front of Arland, reaching out with a tentative hand to shake him awake. “Dad?”

  Arland's bleary eyes cracked open. He blinked at her as if he couldn't make sense of her presence. “Nandalia?”

  Zelene’s heart threatened to break into a million pieces at the hope in his voice, and it was all she could do to keep herself composed. “No, it's Zelene.”

  Arland rubbed the sleep from his eyes and then touched her cheek softly. “Zelene. I thought for a moment that I might be dreaming.”

  “It’s okay. We're going to get you out of here now?” She turned to Nolan. “Help me get him out. We need to get him to Bianca.”

  “And then what?” Nolan asked before he carefully wrapped his father's arm around his shoulders.

  Zelene's gaze darkened with the purpose she felt welling inside of her now that she had freed her father. “And then we go after Ariana.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Bianca nodded stiffly to the guards outside Isauria's room, their presence much more menacing in light the past hours’ events. After discovering what the Duillaine did to Arland, she couldn't believe the guards were assigned for Isauria's protection anymore. She closed the door softly, and leaned back against it. Isauria rested peacefully against her pillows, her eyes closed and her face a mask of calm. Bianca thought of the fairy tales she had been told as a child, with the princesses locked in towers or put into a deep sleep from some curse or another. She felt like Isauria had received the short end of the stick on both accounts, but there would be no kiss from her true love waiting to wake her up. No handsome prince rescuing her from the locked doors holding her captive.

  “I wish it was that simple,” Bianca said, standing next to Isauria's bed. She leaned down and brushed Isauria's hair back, and then let her hand rest on her cheek.<
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  Bianca steeled herself to give Isauria the bad news about what had happened to her father. She lay down next to her and took her hand, laying a gentle kiss across her knuckles and whispering her apologies. Then she closed her eyes and entered Isauria's mind.

  Isauria walked behind Ariana and Alec, kicking at stones her ethereal form couldn't actually touch. She brightened when she saw Bianca. “Hi!” But her face fell again at the grim look Bianca wore. “What's wrong?”

  Bianca's heart broke for Isauria. “It's your father. He's not well.”

  “You mean he’s, like, sick, right? But you'll take care of him.” Isauria’s voice trembled. “He'll be fine if you're with him.”

  “Yes, of course I will take care of him. That’s not the issue. It's more how he came to be unwell. He's been in the dungeons, Izzy. He threatened to amass his own army to find Ariana, and the Duillaine threw him in a cell for it.”

  Isauria paled and stepped back. “No. They wouldn't do that. Why would they do that?”

  “I can't say. I'm not even supposed to be telling you, but he is your father and I thought you would want to know.”

  “I don’t understand. My gift . . . I should have known. I mean, I should have seen it. Right? That’s how it works with Ariana and Zelene. That’s how it always worked with Terrena. Something super emotional happens, and I feel them pulling me, so I go to them.”

  Bianca had also wondered this, but had no real answer to give. “Perhaps you didn’t sense him because you haven’t yet bonded with him as family. You think of Liam as your father. Or maybe Arland wouldn’t allow himself to get emotional, knowing it would pull you to him and draw you into his troubles with the Duillaine.”

  “Maybe. Can I see him? In person?”

  Bianca thought back to the guards at Isauria's door and what dual purpose they might serve. “Isauria, have you tried leaving your room at all? Since the guards were posted there?”