Sacred Breath Series (Books 1-4)

by Nadia Scrieva

  “I want my empire back,” he answered instantly, “but since that isn’t going to happen, why don’t you walk over here? Slowly.”

  Glancing at Visola, Aazuria felt her chest constrict. She did not care what happened to her as long as her friend was safe. Her primary goal was to place her own body between Visola and the emperor. She slowly placed one foot before the other, staring at the man’s hand which was on the trigger of the stun-gun and pressed against Visola’s neck.

  “Your son kept me prisoner for many years,” Aazuria said softly, trying to engage the emperor in conversation to distract him. “You gave him a commendation for it.”

  “It was the only successful thing he ever managed to do in his miserable life,” Emperor Zalcan said with a sneer. “He used to brag about it at the dinner table; he wouldn’t stop going on and on about it for years. Aazuria Vellamo, the beautiful white-haired queen of Adlivun, trapped in a tiny cabin in Antarctica. Tell me, did he lie to us about you the way he lied about the General? Because he told us that he fucked you.”

  “He was not lying,” Aazuria said, as she continued walking forward, counting the footsteps until she could protect Visola. “He did.”

  “He did?” Visola mumbled in shock, from where she lay stunned on the ground. “Ewww.”

  “Can you please not make fun of me when I’m trying to save your life?” Aazuria asked her friend quietly. “It was only once. Only once in seven years.”

  “Then he did lie,” the emperor mused. “He told us that he used your body constantly, until you bled and screamed for mercy.”

  “I do not think he was that enthusiastic about it,” Aazuria admitted. “I think that he did everything he did in order to please and impress you, Emperor Zalcan. He just wanted to make you proud.”

  The emperor seemed startled at her tone of voice. “Did you care for my son, Queen Aazuria?”

  She took one final step forward, and was finally close enough to touch Visola. She saw that the emperor’s grip on the stun-gun had loosened slightly and her fingers twitched as she considered withdrawing her sword. She knew that before the weapon had even exited the sheath, Visola would be dead. She would need to measure her actions carefully. “I did care for him,” she answered. “As much as any captive grows to care for their captor. I suppose that being confined with him in such close quarters for so many years formed a kind of attachment between us. He wasn’t such a horrible person.”

  “No,” the emperor said, looking away a bit forlornly. “He was a good boy.”

  Visola and Aazuria locked eyes, acknowledging silently that the moment was approaching when the man’s guard would drop.

  Aazuria smiled. “It’s too bad I had to stab him in the chest and feed him to the sharks.”

  The emperor turned to look at Aazuria in horror, and she instantly dove forward, tackling him away from Visola. She hit the stun gun away from his hand before driving the heel of her palm into his nose. The emperor growled as he grabbed a handful of Aazuria’s hair and smashed her head into the marble floor. Twisting her body away, Aazuria ripped her sword from her belt and swung it at the Emperor’s head. He flung his body backwards, away from her swing, and used the knife he had been harming Visola with to block her sword thrusts and move closer to her body.

  Grabbing her wrist, the emperor disarmed her, taking the sword from her hand. He tossed it aside, and clamped his arms around her to pin her down. Aazuria struggled madly, seeing that he was intended to stab her in the stomach with his knife. When the impact came, it knocked the wind out of her, but the Kevlar armor protected her skin from being impaled. She twisted her knee around his thigh and slammed the man to the ground, using the fall to free herself and grab his knife. She grabbed his hand and echoed his thrust, stabbing his knife into his own abdomen.

  Emperor Zalcan gasped out in horror, staring down at the wound in his midsection. His own hand was still clenched around the hilt, and he opened his fingers, staring down at the hot, sticky blood which was beginning to coat his palm in shock.

  “Nice,” Visola mumbled from the ground, although she could not yet pull her lips into a complete smile.

  “Are you okay?” Aazuria asked, rushing to her side. She began to pull Visola’s armor back over her chest, where it had been removed.

  “Bah. Kill him… completely!” Visola said in warning.

  Aazuria turned around just in time to feel a baton connect with her chest. The emperor had retrieved his stun gun and was activating it against the tender, exposed skin just above her armor. For several seconds, Aazuria felt the world spin around her, and saw explosions of energy and color before she crumpled to a soft heap on the ground.

  “Fuck,” Visola whispered, trying to shift her body to the side to move over to her friend. “Zuri…”

  “Silence, bitch,” the emperor hissed, stepping over Aazuria’s body. He pulled the knife out of his gut and crouched over Visola’s thighs, with blood trickling down his smiling lips. “I may be a dead man, but I’m taking you down with me. Now where were we when she interrupted us?”

  “You were about to eat my…”

  “No, I was about to butcher you,” he interrupted with a grin. “Tell me, are these Vachlan’s children that you’re carrying? It was very embarrassing when he betrayed me. I have always wanted to destroy the Destroyer’s woman. But to get his unborn child as well? This is like a two-for-one bargain!”

  “Twins,” Visola mumbled. “Three.”

  “Oh, really? Even better!” The emperor lifted his knife and slammed it down to stab Visola in the stomach. Visola’s eyes widened as she instinctively tried to block the thrust, but she could not fully lift her arms.

  Aazuria managed to overcome the spasms in her muscles in time to launch herself forward, using her hand to strike the blunt side of the blade and force it away from Visola’s abdomen. The knife plunged into Visola’s forearm instead, with such force that it pierced her armor. The general gasped out in pain, but was immensely grateful for her friend’s redirection of the stab wound.

  “Thanks,” Visola whispered hoarsely, as tears sprung to her eyes. She had never been so thankful to have a knife driven deep into her arm. Her tears were not from pain, but from happiness that Aazuria had managed to force the blade away from her stomach.

  Panting and clutching her chest where the electricity had been administered, Aazuria slammed her knuckles into the emperor’s already wounded abdomen. He screamed and writhed, moving away from her. She felt a strange pain in her chest that was surely the lingering effects of the stun gun, but she ignored it as she crawled forward to the emperor.

  “How dare you!” she hissed, raking her nails across his knife wound again. She pushed him away from Visola, trying to create some distance between her friend and their enemy. “Why would you pick on a harmless pregnant woman when I’m right here? Are you a man?”

  “Harmless?” Visola barked, trying miserably to pry the knife out of her arm. She felt like she was recovering slightly from the effects of the electricity, and was feeling good about their projected success in this situation. “Can you please not insult me while you’re trying to save my life?”

  Aazuria slammed her fist into the emperor’s knife wound viciously, over and over again, until he seemed to lose consciousness from the pain. “Sorry,” she said to Visola, turning to smile at her friend. The women gazed at each other knowingly, with the infinite understanding of two old friends.

  “Thanks for protecting my useless pregnant ass,” Visola said with a grin as she tried to raise herself onto her elbows. She groaned as she moved her bleeding arm over her stomach.

  “At least I’ve defended you once,” Aazuria said with satisfaction. “You must have saved my sorry ass a thousand times.”

  “But not this time,” came a masculine voice from behind her. Aazuria’s pupils dilated when she felt the crackling of electricity against the back of her spine. She stared at Visola helplessly as her body was ripped from her own control. Her muscles all
simultaneously tensed, causing her immense pain in every fragment of her being. She waited for the sensation to be over, but it would not stop. Her mind seemed suddenly detached, as though floating outside herself and watching her body spasm in horror. She felt the sinking, hollow feeling in her chest, and she knew that her heart had stopped. Aazuria accepted it almost at once; perhaps she had accepted it long before it had actually happened. She knew it was fine. She thought of Varia, and knew that her daughter would always be among people who loved her.

  “Zuri!” Visola croaked, trying to crawl towards her to save her from the emperor. She could not move quickly enough, and the heaviness of her stomach and liquid feeling of her muscles prevented her from reaching her friend in time. “Zuri!”

  Explosions sounded out in the chamber as several shots were fired. Both Aazuria and Emperor Zalcan slumped to the ground, and Visola blinked in the silence that followed, not knowing what exactly had happened. She looked up to see that Trevain had entered the room, and had fired several shots from his amphibious rifle directly into the Emperor’s head. She sobbed, using her stabbed arm to drag her body across the floor toward Aazuria, and slapping her lifeless friend’s cheek.

  “Hey. Hey, Zuri. It’s okay—he’s really dead this time,” Visola said between sniffles. Feeling weak, she laid her head down on Aazuria’s chest, hugging her weakly. “Zuri? Wake up now. Come on, this isn’t funny.”

  Trevain was at their side in an instant, sliding the bloody emperor aside with his foot so that he could kneel beside Aazuria. He took her hand into his and felt her wrist frantically. “There’s no pulse, Grandma.”

  “What?” Visola said, lifting her head slightly. She blinked, placing her head back down against the queen’s chest. Her breathing became so quick and shallow that she could hardly speak. “She doesn’t have a heartbeat. No, no. Zuri, no.”

  “She was shocked with the taser, right?” Trevain asked dumbly. He pushed Visola aside and began to press his hands on Aazuria’s chest. “Maybe we can restart her heart.” He began pressing on her chest, unsure of whether he was doing it correctly.

  “She’s not breathing,” Visola said, placing her fingers above Aazuria’s mouth and nose. “I mean, maybe that should be obvious if her heart’s not beating but—Trevain, she’s not breathing!”

  “What do I do?” Trevain mumbled as he pumped his palms against her chest. “What am I supposed to do? How do I fix this? I told her I wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Aazuria! Aazuria!”

  Visola was shaking her head slowly and rubbing the white hair near her friend’s forehead. “Come on,” she said softly. “Don’t be a fucking hero and just wake up, Zuri. I’m not joking. I’ve never been more serious about anything, ever.”

  Just then, Vachlan and Sionna entered the room, having finally traced the source of the distress call. Sionna launched herself forward, sitting beside Trevain and getting to work on Aazuria.

  “Remove her armor from her chest,” she told him. He did this with shaking hands as she deftly pulled off her knapsack, and removed a waterproof container which contained a defibrillator. She prepared the machine for use in a few seconds, and administered a shock to Aazuria’s chest. When this failed, she tried another. Frowning and beginning to sweat from fear, Sionna spent several minutes trying to resuscitate Aazuria. She finally paused. Exhaling, Sionna fell limply back onto her heels, hanging her head helplessly over her queen’s body.

  “Time of death,” she whispered, lifting her watch to her face.

  “No!” Visola screamed, slapping her sister’s hand down so that she could not see the digital clock. She angrily began to pound on Aazuria’s chest. “You didn’t try hard enough. If you just press harder… Zuri! Zuri!”

  Sionna moved around the body and grasped her sister’s arms, pinning them to her sides as she hugged her. Visola sobbed and fell against Sionna’s shoulder.

  “Freeze her body,” Sionna commanded the Adluvian soldiers who had entered the room behind Vachlan. “We’ll put her in the royal mausoleum beside her father.”

  “Yes, Dr. Ramaris.”

  Trevain’s fingers rested on Aazuria’s arm hesitantly as he stared at Sionna with a vacant expression. “You’re not going to try anymore?”

  Sionna felt her heart breaking as she shook her head. “I’m sorry, kid.”

  When the soldiers moved forward to collect Aazuria’s body, Visola screamed in protest. “No!” she shrieked, breaking free from Sionna’s grasp so that she could cling to Aazuria’s body. “Don’t take her. Please don’t…”

  “Vachlan,” Sionna said softly. “Will you restrain her? I need to see that the body is properly frozen.”

  Nodding numbly, the dark-haired warrior moved to pull his wife into his arms.

  Trevain remained statue still as he stared at the ground where Aazuria had been a moment ago. He did not fully understand what had happened. His face was expressionless, and his mind was blank and disbelieving. Everything around him disappeared, until he was suspended in a vacuum, and nose-diving face-first into nothingness. Through the thickness of the sorrow in the air, he could hear his grandmother sobbing—it sounded as though she were miles away. He felt like a chasm had opened up and sucked him into hell—into a world without her. It was a place he had been once before, and did not want to ever return.

  Glais sat upright in bed, his eyes staring into the dark with horror. He sat there for several seconds, going over the realistic details of his dream. He had never seen Emperor Zalcan before, but he was sure that the man wielding the electric baton had been the leader of their enemy clan. Beads of sweat began to drip down his forehead, catching on his eyebrows. When the sweat dripped down into his eyelashes, he blinked it away, still motionless.

  The panic room was deathly quiet. He had been staying there with the other children, Queen Elandria, and Princess Yamako. They had all felt safe and comfortable, and only mildly worried about their loved ones. Everyone had felt quite confident in the carefully-planned attack. Throwing the covers off his legs, Glais stood up shakily. He moved out of his room and walked down the corridor to Varia’s room. He opened the door without knocking and stepped inside, shaking.

  Varia woke up immediately and sat up to peer at her friend in the darkness. “What’s wrong?”

  “I had a dream about your mom,” Glais said, in a small voice that sounded like a croak. He cleared his throat again. “I had a dream that your mom was killed.”

  Varia pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging her small legs tightly. She could see the frightened look in Glais’ amber eyes, and she could see that he believed his dream. He was related to the priestess, and he was supposed to have some kind of clairvoyant powers.

  “Just ’cause it happened to your dad, doesn’t mean it’s going to happen to my mom,” Varia said stubbornly. But she was already lowering her forehead to her knees, and clutching her legs in terror. “It was just a dream, Glais. It was just a dream, right?”

  He nodded. He closed the door behind him and placed his back to the wall, nodding firmly. “Yeah. It was just my stupid imagination.”

  “It didn’t feel real, right?” Varia demanded, her voice muffled against her blankets and her legs.

  “Naw,” Glais said, trying to sound casual. Even as he said this, he found his legs giving away and his back sliding down Varia’s door. When he was sitting on the ground, feeling gutted and desolate, he very suddenly knew the truth. He did not know how he knew, but he knew. He lowered his eyes, unable to look at Varia.

  Visola gripped the sides of the sink in the small submarine bathroom. She leaned forward, feeling her shoulders convulse. She retched violently and emptied the contents of her stomach for the third time that hour. She felt dizzy and weak from vomiting, but simultaneously angry at herself for being weak. She glanced down at her bandaged forearm, feeling a shiver when she remembered the intended target of the knife. She said a silent prayer of thanks to Aazuria for blocking the blade from hitting her stomach. Still, the stab wound
seemed a pathetic and small injury to incur from such a huge battle. She deserved more. It was her fault.

  Imagining Aazuria’s lifeless body, Visola began to vomit again. She continued to heave, but after a certain point, nothing more would come out of her stomach. She lifted her chin to gaze at her pallid face in the bathroom mirror, noting the puffiness from crying. She saw the bloodshot whites of her eyes, the red veins tracing little patterns to her green irises. She hated herself a little bit. If only she could have done something differently. If she had not placed herself in unnecessary risk, Aazuria would not have had to jeopardize herself to save her. Everything had been in Visola’s control; she could have attacked sooner or later. She could have just not fought in the war at all, and allowed Major Mardöll to lead her forces. She could have just not gone off on her own and sought a private moment before it was safe to do so. She hated herself a lot.

  Visola smashed her fist into the bathroom mirror, and at first her strike was so feeble that the mirror did not budge. This angered her, and she pounded her hand into the glass again. Seeing tiny cracks begin to appear, she began to viciously pound both fists into the mirror until the glass was cracking and shattering, falling all around her. She continued to stomp the sharp shards of glass with her feet, welcoming the cuts. She screamed and smashed her fists into the bathroom walls, trying her best to destroy everything. Sobbing, Visola found herself stumbling forward, and tripping over the edge of the bathtub. She caught herself, placing a bloody palm against the white tiles of the bathroom wall.

  Sinking into the tub with bruised and bleeding hands and feet, Visola wrapped her arms around her stomach and sobbed. She cried with her whole body, gasping until she could not breathe. She wondered if she could kill herself from crying too hard. She was weeping so loudly that she did not even notice when Vachlan smashed open the bathroom door and moved over to the tub. He stared down at her wordlessly before climbing into the tub with her and sitting behind her. He pulled Visola between his legs and held her against his chest.