by K. A. Linde
“Get back,” Cyrene gasped, blasting him with an energy field that hit him full in the chest.
Ahlvie crashed backward a dozen feet and then jumped to his feet.
The energy might be a leech off of her spirit magic, but it did the trick in a pinch. She lifted her blade, adjusted her stance, and then beckoned him forward.
“Come, friend. If you dare,” she said to him.
And miraculously, she felt the tug of her bond with Avoca. Cyrene’s focus broke for a second as she looked to her soul sister.
“Don’t,” Avoca croaked. “He’s still in there.”
But by the time she looked back to Ahlvie, he was already sprinting in the other direction. In fact, all the Indres were running. They were in retreat.
“I wouldn’t,” she told Avoca. “But we have to stop them. They can’t leave.”
Avoca nodded once, linking her magic with Cyrene as if there had never been a moment when that wasn’t who they were. Then they were running like the wind. Side by side and straight toward where the Indres were in retreat.
Except that their retreat was stopped by a roar from the Tyghans, who were sprinting up the opposing hill toward the camp. The Indres clashed with the water seekers, who used the immense amount of water all around them to drown the Indres in their path and the incredible steel of the Hohl blades in their hands to tear down their enemies.
And, one after the other, Indres fell.
As their defeat became clear, the Indres loped toward the awaiting safety of the Hidden Forest in the distance. The forest that was on fire. Their destruction was imminent, and then a portal appeared in the middle of the field. Cyrene watched with her jaw dropped as the remaining Indres, maybe twenty at most, vanished into thin air. Ahlvie included.
But despite that, this was a victory. A clear victory even if any loss of life felt like they had lost.
And though the battle was over, the adrenaline of the fight still suffused her. She felt completely full of energy. The pull of her sword, the strength of the diamond, the lull of her magic, and the combined force of her linking with Sarielle and Avoca. She felt…unstoppable.
That was the moment she realized that everyone was staring at her.
Everyone.
The Tyghans, the Network army, the Eleysians who had rushed to help in the fight. Even Avoca.
“What?” Cyrene asked.
Avoca’s eyes were wide. “You’re…you’re glowing.”
Cyrene looked down at her body, and indeed, her skin was glowing. The warm golden tone that Cyrene had seen glow all around Malysa and Benetta when they first entered Emporia. The glow of Doma, true Doma.
Vera stumbled forward out of the chaos of battle. Her hand went to her mouth, and tears came to her eyes. “You did it,” she breathed. “I don’t know how you did it, but you did it.”
Cyrene touched the diamond at her throat. “I did.”
“Where…where was it?”
“Serafina hid it for safekeeping.” Cyrene flicked her wrist and withdrew a small rock out of thin air. A gasp came from all around. “From the in-between.”
“You reclaimed the Domina diamond. You are the Domina now.” She let her voice carry into the crowd. “All hail, Domina Cyrene. The rightful ruler of all Doma.”
Then to Cyrene’s shock, Vera dropped to one knee and bowed her head to Cyrene. She opened her mouth to tell her to stand up. That this was ridiculous. But it got stuck in her throat.
Because Avoca fell to a knee beside her. The warmth of the bond like nothing she had ever felt in her life.
Cyrene found Quidera in the crowd of Tyghans. She nodded at Cyrene once and then went to a knee.
And then they were all bowing.
Knees touching the ground.
Heads bowed.
The whispered awe of, “Domina Cyrene,” filling the space as, one by one, every person in the entire camp bowed to her.
One by one, they swore their allegiance to her.
One by one…they chose her.
21
The Circadian Prophecy
Vera and Avoca rose first, breaking the spell that had entranced everyone. Cyrene immediately went into action. Action she understood. Orders could be observed. But bowing…that was too new for her.
“Quidera, send your water seekers to put out the fire in the forest.”
Quidera bowed deeply. “As you wish, Domina. Also, we have healers among us.”
“Excellent. Send them to help with the injured and then come to my war council.”
“You honor me, Domina,” Quidera said in awe.
Cyrene gave her a reassuring smile and then hustled toward Avoca and Vera, who she prayed to the actual Creator wouldn’t treat her like that. “If either of you start calling me Domina, I’m going to appoint myself new friends.”
Vera laughed, and Avoca just arched an eyebrow in response.
“How do I get rid of this glow thing, Vera?” she demanded.
“Do you really want to?”
“Yes! Everyone is staring.”
“Aren’t you used to it?” Avoca quipped.
“Sure. Courtiers and cute boys,” she said, “but not this.”
“You can dampen it, but I would wait out your war council at the least,” Vera instructed.
She saw the wisdom in that. They were nearly there when Dean, Orden, and Gwynora appeared before her.
Gwynora looked gobsmacked as she dropped to her knee. “You truly are her.”
“Stand up, Gwynora. I can’t have you groveling, too.”
Gwynora slowly rose but with confusion. “You’re the Heir of Light. You’re the one the Circadian Prophecy talked about.” Her eyes flicked to Orden. “I never knew if you were really telling the truth.”
“My apologies, girl,” Orden said roughly to Cyrene. “I said I’d always follow the way of the prophet. I shouldn’t have helped run you out of here.”
Gwynora removed her sword and held it out to Cyrene. “I still think you’re crazy but the best kind of crazy. I refuse my right of ruler.”
“Perhaps we should take this inside,” Dean said with a nod of his head.
Cyrene nodded. “Indeed. I’m waiting for one more. Go in and make your sister grovel. That’d be entertaining.”
Dean snorted. “Yes, Domina.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t make me deduct water rations from you.”
He tipped back his head and laughed. “Do your worst.”
Then he gestured for the rest of the company to enter the war council tent. Cyrene let them talk it out in above-average whisper-shouts while she waited for Quidera. Fenix still wasn’t inside either. She had briefly seen him in the height of the battle. His bulky form moving like the wind. Shockingly agile for one of his size.
But neither Quidera nor Fenix appeared right away. Instead, a shock of red hair appeared. Her smile was one Cyrene had known her entire life. One of kindness, inherent goodness, and sharp intelligence.
“When all seems lost, what was lost can be found. When all bend, you cannot be as you were,” Rhea said.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you still have my Presenting letter memorized,” Cyrene said to her oldest friend.
“Not just the Presenting letter. But the Circadian Prophecy come full circle,” Rhea said with a smile. “You have recovered what was lost, and now, they bend a knee to you, Cyrene.”
“Does this mean that my fated battle with the Heir of Darkness is set?”
Rhea shrugged and accidentally rubbed black powder across her pale, freckled cheek. “I don’t know. But I do know that circles are endless. There are no real endings or beginnings. A snake eating its tail.”
Cyrene contemplated that thought. Perhaps this wasn’t history repeating itself at all. Not really. History was always history. But man can repeat itself. He can always repeat previous mistakes. Especially if history is forgotten, just as it was in Byern for generations. Only a break in the cycle could hope to create an all-new
beginning for the same story. She hoped that she was that new link.
She was still ruminating that thought when a messenger appeared at the entrance to the tent. “I have an urgent message for Queen Brigette,” the boy said. His eyes were round with awe at the sight of her glowing. “The siege is failing.”
Cyrene held her hand out, and he placed the message in it without a word. She tore it open and read what the captain had said about the Eleysian siege of Aurum.
“Creator,” she breathed.
“What is it?” Rhea asked with concern.
“Malysa has put Merrick on the throne of Aurum,” she told Rhea in horror.
“Oh my Creator,” Rhea breathed.
Cyrene crumpled the paper in her hand. “It was a distraction.” She burst through the tent with Rhea on her heels. “The Indres were a distraction! She sent only a hundred here, knowing that it was enough to keep you busy while I was away. Because she knew that I was away. Then, she sent her real forces to the siege at Aurum. She cut down half of your soldiers and put Merrick on the throne.” Cyrene threw the paper down in front of Brigette. “There is a Nokkin on the throne of Aurum.”
Brigette reached out with tentative fingers and grabbed the piece of paper. She read it with bloodless lips and sheet-white skin. She said nothing.
“That’s two of her generals on thrones. Byern and Aurum. Ahlvie who came here for the distraction. Where is her Braj general? What is her next move?”
No one answered. No one had an answer. They were up against an enemy that they had no hope of understanding. They were outmatched, and it had never been more obvious than it was in that moment.
“What did I miss?” a voice asked from the doorway. Fenix strode in then, still covered in blood to his elbow.
“Malysa put a Nokkin on the throne of Aurum,” she told him.
He blinked at her. “You’re glowing.”
“She’s the Domina,” Gwynora said reverently.
Fenix nodded. “So, are you back?”
“That has yet to be discussed,” Joffrey sputtered from Brigette’s side.
Dean silenced him with a look. “She’s back.”
Gwynora threw her sword on the table. “I rescind my right to rule these people. Cyrene saved us when the Indres attacked. She is the rightful ruler. She’s the Domina.”
“We were wrong,” Orden said. “We were all in the wrong.”
“We spoke out of anger,” Avoca said. Her eyes reflecting the apology she hadn’t yet put into words.
Cyrene waved them all off. “You were right, too. We do need more training. We do need more information. And we can’t go after Malysa without those things. That was abundantly clear. We were not prepared for one attack, let alone two. And now, we have an even bigger problem with Merrick. We need to know what Malysa is doing, what she’s planning.”
Fenix raised his bloody hand. “I have an idea about that.”
“No,” Rhea hissed next to him.
“We’re all ears,” Cyrene said.
Rhea shot her a look of betrayal.
“Some of you know my profession, and some of you don’t. But I think that I can still gain favor with Kael,” he said with a raised eyebrow.
Spy.
“Really? After you’ve been with us this long?” Cyrene asked.
“It’s what I’m good at.”
“Fenix, no,” Rhea said. “You just got out.”
Fenix slung the arm not currently covered in blood over Rhea’s shoulders. “What matters is, I have a particular skill set that we require. No one else can get close to him, except Elea, and we don’t even know if she’s compromised.”
“I do,” Cyrene said. “I spoke to her.”
Fenix raised an eyebrow. “How is it possible that you got in and out of the Nit Decus castle without being noticed? You’re the most wanted person in Byern.”
Cyrene smirked at her spymaster. “We all have tricks of our trade. You share your secrets, and I’ll share mine.”
The look on his face said he was impressed. He didn’t seem like someone who was easily impressed. Which was good for her.
“Elea isn’t compromised. She’s still on our side.”
“Then we have our link to Kael. Give me a few weeks, and I can get to Malysa,” Fenix said confidently.
Cyrene nodded. “Do it. How will I contact you?”
“You won’t. Not if I go in deep.”
Rhea shook her head. “Please don’t do this.”
He squeezed her shoulder but didn’t acknowledge what she’d said. “But I’ll be able to reach you.”
Cyrene hated the look on Rhea’s face. The devastation at what was to come. That Fenix was going to go deep undercover. They all knew what that could mean. This wasn’t like getting in good with Kael. This was much, much more sinister. Potentially deadly. And her friend wanted her to say no. But they needed this. She needed this.
“Do it.”
Fenix gave her a two-finger salute. “Aye, aye, Domina.”
The tent flap fluttered at that moment, and Quidera stepped through. “The fire is under control. Our healers are working on the injured. Not too many, to be honest. And I’m here at your command, Domina.”
Cyrene smiled at Quidera and gestured for her to take an empty seat. “Council, this is Quidera of the Tyghan people. They’re a desert society in the Fallen, and they have joined me. We brought about a thousand soldiers with roughly a quarter of them with the ability for water magic.”
“Creator,” Gwynora murmured. “That’s as many Doma as me or my father found in all our time looking.”
“I have found many, many more than that on my travels. And I plan to bring them all together here,” Cyrene said. “Which brings me to my next two points—we need to set up training, and we need to shore up our allies.”
“Allies?” Brigette asked, speaking for the first time. The bite was out of her voice. She actually looked interested in what Cyrene was saying. Dean noticed it, too, because he peered at his sister as if waiting for the rug-pull. “What other allies do we have?”
“More than you can know. Who is Eleysia aligned with?” Cyrene countered.
Joffrey and Brendt looked insulted by the question and began to speak for their queen, but Brigette cut them off. “Enough. We have formal contracts with Bienco for the port of Yuve and Mastira for access to Lake Mische and the metal in the Barren Mountains.”
“Good. Start writing your letters. Ask for their armies, for supplies, for food. Ask for whatever you think they’ll give you.”
Brigette raised her chin. “And what exactly am I supposed to offer in return?”
“Whatever you think will send them here fastest,” Cyrene said pointedly.
Joffrey jumped to his feet. “You cannot be insinuating that she offer the throne.”
“No,” Brigette said, critically assessing Cyrene. “But alliances are won through war and marriage. And I am unwed.”
“The royal line of Ellison does not bow to a foreign king consort,” Joffrey gasped.
“It’s absurd,” Brendt said. “We haven’t had to do marriage alliances in generations.”
“It’s a different time,” Brigette said. “I will request help. We need it. We will see how the negotiations progress. And you, Cyrene? Will the Domina marry for an alliance?”
Cyrene purposely didn’t look at Dean. She had never considered that question. She had never had a throne to barter with. She still did not. But she had something more valuable than that. She was the Domina. She commanded all the armies of their alliance. Perhaps someone would want to marry her in the hopes of getting on a throne by the end of this war. She didn’t know.
“I don’t believe my allies will require that of me,” she said. Then she let her thoughts shift to Kivrin back in Kinkadia. Would he want something like that to convince the Society to help them? Not that she even had a way to get to Alandria. It was a four-month journey by boat, and they had closed the portal. It was too absurd to even consider th
is. “But…if it means winning or losing, yes.”
She would do anything to stop Malysa.
And still, she did not look to Dean.
To the man who had given everything to earn his magic, to earn his dragon, to earn her. And he had willingly brought her all of Eleysia and Halcyon. He had already proven himself.
This should not be a game of leverage, and she hated thinking of it. But, if she asked it of Brigette, then she had to think of it for herself.
“The rest of our allies, we will have to contact directly. They’re not people easily found with a letter. Nor will they be convinced otherwise,” Cyrene said. “But, in the meantime, we will need to focus on training the Doma that we have. We need them to become more adept with their magic and swords.”
She looked to Quidera and then to the one person in the tent who had said nothing so far. “Vera, I want you to train the magic users.”
She startled. “But Cyrene, you know that I can’t.”
Cyrene arched an eyebrow. “You and Matilde trained me, hardly lifting a finger. You know more than all of us. You know exactly what to do. I can assess the people we have and give you all the information you need for you to set up that academy again that you always wanted.”
Vera looked uncertain but nodded. “Ameerath will help.”
“I believe that I will need your dragon before this is all over.”
Vera was pained at that announcement. “Of course.”
“I want you to work with Quidera to access the water seekers, and, Dean, I want you to figure out how much Hohl steel we have. I need you training the soldiers in sword play.”
“Darmian trained me,” he said with a raised eyebrow, as if he saw exactly what she was doing. “He can train the new recruits as well.”
“Fine,” she said. She would deal with him later. “Gwynora, I want you to work with Quidera and Darmian on this. You are an excellent swordsman, and you have magic. That will be an advantage many of them don’t have.”
Gwynora nodded. “I will whip them into shape.”
“You have your assignments. Let’s get to work,” Cyrene said. “Vera, Orden, Avoca, and Dean, will you remain?”