Fallen Warrior (Fallen Trilogy book 3)

by Williams, Tess

  I was weaker; I knew that for myself. It was my right leg, where the largest scar was. It went stiff and rigid at times. But then, I also tried harder than I used to. Yeah, because I had more to fight for. So I was probably stronger than I had been.

  No. I wouldn't become blind. I hated the darkness. I only didn't mind kissing Ellia in it, but that was an exception, and I would have preferred to see her anyways, now that I thought on it. Why couldn't I see those white stars that were so beautiful? Why couldn't we be back in Echren? Why couldn't I be Cyric any longer? Was she never going to guess? I needed to tell her; that was it. She was never going to guess. If my kissing hadn't done it, nothing would. I needed to tell her; I really needed to.

  "Whoa, hold up," I said, jerking with a start at the sight of Tongon. He was wearing his blue robes, just as before, and from his path, he'd been looking to go straight into the next chamber. He'd come from the hall.

  "Ah, princess's guardian," he said, coming—to my great relief—to a full stop in front of me. As if he had no intention of hurrying on. "You were not allowed to enter then?" he asked quizzically.

  As before, earlier, this morning, when he'd come to visit Ellia at the inn, he had a bag of blue velvet hung over his shoulder. His cap, as well, was present. I was glad to see him, for some reason, I couldn't divine. Maybe only to have someone to talk to.

  "No. That's weird though, right? Shouldn't I have been? Isn't that normal for royalty?"

  Tongon shrugged, not seeming to notice my words were coming out too fast for me to understand. I told myself to calm down. I set my foot down; I tried putting my hands in my pockets.

  "As I told you before," he responded, continuing with the shrug, "I did not know what they would have said. I'll be honest and admit to you that we Vishnuites keep rather separated from the other of Genbu. Our rulers, as you might have met, are made up of many. They're each required, as all Genbuans are, to pass through the sacred halls, and they come to us for insight on the Black Tortoises... but otherwise they conduct their own business." He skewered his brow low, into a sort of wince. "They have a strange manner for representing our people. I shouldn't be surprised if the princess is experiencing something decidedly strange."

  "Strange?" I echoed. My hands popped out of my pockets, to my sides alert. "What do you mean, strange, like dangerous?" I glanced back at the door.

  Tongon laughed, his low chuckle. "No, no. No. Peace, guardian," he told me. His hand had fallen to my arm. He shrugged again, when I looked back at him. "I only mean that, well,... it'll be said anyways, so I'll just go on and tell you that we Genbuans already mean to help the war."

  I narrowed, thinking of Ellia inside the next room. I thought of them telling her this, and then I thought of seeing her outside the mountain, shaking afraid. She would be happy; if this was true; she would be happy.

  "Are you sure about this?" I asked Tongon.

  He quirked a brow up, sliding a hand along his bag strap. "I should be, since, we Vishnuites were the ones who first heard it from the Tortoises. I am not, the oldest of our order, I can tell you; but I was privileged to be there when the message was received. They'd been in contact with the Vermillion Birds, those children of Zuque. They spoke of the war, and soon after, the first of the golden dragons came."

  I narrowed, even dipping my head forward in confusion. It was strange; but I'd almost forgotten about Raand and Jaxom at all. Instead I felt, well it was crazy, but I felt like a prince—or a king even. Not like a guardian. Like a prince waiting outside for his princess, while she was given to learn what she must and I was left to learn what I must.

  "What do you mean the golden dragons?"

  Tongon frowned, his brows pinching at the center. "Didn't you say that you knew of the myth? I told that soldier, Tarful, to make sure the princess had heard it?"

  "Yes, I did," I answered, leaning closer to Tongon, wondering only for the slightest moment, that he was still out here. He'd really stopped. He hadn't gone inside the room and left me. "I mean, I told her about them," I clarified. "I've read a lot about them. I told all that was on the wall. I'm sure that I didn't miss anything."

  "But you... don't know what I mean?" he wondered.

  I narrowed again, tipping my head, while he went on.

  "When I say the golden dragons came to visit us?"

  My narrow deepened.

  Tongon, on the other hand, smiled, then he reached one hand into his bag, flinging over its flap. Part of me wanted to go on asking him more, but then I assumed that was the reason for his digging. Maybe he'd get a picture. Maybe he had a tiny golden dragon in that bag. I didn't know. The servant woman walked in and out, while he worked, then he spoke to me as he pulled a small leather pouch out. "I wonder, guardian, did Tarful say anything else to you," he went on. He looked up at me, the bag in his hand, lifting one brow out, so that he looked perfectly normal. "About the stars?" he added.

  I glanced from the pouch to him. Then tried to remember past flipping out, as I had then. What had that been? just when I'd been covering my face in a panic. I'd just kissed Ellia. I'd still been able to feel her softness on my fingers. She'd told me it would mean too much to see me; I'd thought it couldn't mean enough.

  "He said something about them getting brighter," I answered, shaking my head a little, cluelessly. "Something about, what makes them bright?"

  Tongon smiled a smile that started from the center of his lips, and rose to the corners. "What makes them shine the brightest?" he repeated. Then he nodded, head tipping forward, then bobbing. "This was also spoken by the Tortoises. You'll find they have an interest in the smallest cases of human condition. They take after their father, in that way, Vishnu. So, do all the granted animals. It's their nature, to give themselves for others. To care, even for the smallest things."

  "I don't... think I understand," I voiced out. But not very confidently, because there was something; I couldn't even tell what, but it told me what he was saying made perfect sense—that I did understand it.

  Tongon shook his head. "You need not understand it," he said. "You need only know that it is true." Then he handed me the pouch.

  It felt weighty in my palm. But soft, unlike a pouch of coins, I could feel the objects within. They were small, clustered, like pebbles; the feeling of skipping rocks piled in my fingers. Still, despite this instant sensation, I frowned in confusion, then looked up at Tongon, holding my hand back out. "For me?" I replied. "You can't mean... Shouldn't you go on inside and give it to the princess?"

  "To the princess, to her guardian. Little difference it makes. Won't you see it safely to her?"

  My frown remained looking down at it again, then back at him. His eyes were glowing deepish blue, like those night skies everyone spoke of but I could never see. I felt, on my lips, the urge to respond with something like, "but you don't know me." Or, "how could you be sure to trust me." Even though, they weren't things I would normally say at all. Better trust me, I'm Ellia's most trustable protector—that would be my normal train of thought. But there was something like a smile to his eyes, that made me feel as if he had even less reason to doubt me than anyone should.

  It was because of this; because I wasn't sure what he would say if I told him he didn't know me, because of that strong sense of being a prince or a king or something, and because of that humming in my palm, that I didn't speak. Instead, I brought my free hand up to the pouch, then shifted it open with my fingers, just enough to see within.

  I blinked in recognition as I saw the glowing light it held. Like turquoise, like Ellia's eyes. Those little shards, from Shaundakul. To which Ellia had walked up the steps earlier on, while Tongon and I had spoken of her royal demeanor; how so very much like a princess she always looked. How so very much like a Shaundakulian princess, she looked.

  "You'll see that the golden dragons receive them," Tongon said, simply. I looked up, to see him blinking at me, his hands tight on his dark blue strap. "This is our pledge, guardian. Not from the Black Tortoises, bu
t from the Azure dragons. Something your people should have received back a long time ago."

  It was a moment, that I didn't even realize he'd said something strange—and I was about to ask something myself, about what these had to do with stars, or what the answer to that riddle was. Then I heard the sound of an opening door. Like a repeated clanking first, with the doorknob, then a rush of air and voices as the Genbuans exited the conjoining room.

  I recalled, in an instant, like a wave, all that panicked energy that had plagued me before Tongon had appeared. The first few faces that exited were unrecognizable by me, but then I saw Raand, and Jaxom was close behind him. Many of the Genbuans were laughing, but these two, looked too absorbed in conversation between themselves to laugh or otherwise. Their faces told me nothing. My Ellia was still gone. I heard a whistling, like a high painful screech from one side, and automatically clamped my fist over the bag which Tongon had given me, glancing down only in time to see its light flash bright before closing. And with its closing the whistling vanished. I searched for Tongon, but he was gone. I thought I saw a flashing of blue, up near one of the rulers. No, it was Tarful. So, everyone had come, and my Ellia...

  But then, there she was, at the door. It was strange, but for a moment, I was sure she was wearing a dress. A long, silver dress, or palish blue metallic, with lace and gems. And her hair flowing down behind her. And her hands folded in front of her, as if she were praying, with her eyes distant and blinking slowly. The smallest, no, most peaceful smile at her lips. This was part true, all besides the hair and the dress. She walked slowly out from the room, behind the others without a word. And then, just as I was feeling like my throat would close and lock the air out, her eyes steadied and found mine.

  My Ellia had heard of Raand and Jaxom. I knew it for certain. I knew it like I knew my own name, like I knew she was mine, like I knew I was from Shaundakul. There were others still filling the room, and I heard jokes about tests, and rouses, and how patient the princess had been—enough to tell me the gist of what had gone on in the room beyond, as it had to do with the war—but I wasn't really aware of any of them but Ellia. Upon seeing me, she smiled so that her eyes sparkled, and upon smiling, she stepped towards me. Then she didn't stop, until she was buried in my arms. My throat stopped its straining; my whole breath gave out in a sigh. I thought I was dreaming, so I didn't take care for custom as I moved my arms around her, up from her back, taking her shoulders, wrapping my hands over them—even with the pouch of shards still looped around my fingers—then holding tight like that. She was most certainly back in her dress. I could feel it like silk against me, and it wasn't just that; I was in dress clothes as well. Silver metallic blue that matched hers, with the weight of a crown on my head, and a ring on my finger.

  "The Genbuans, Cole," Ellia whispered for me, her tone like a song, and her small hands there against my chest. "They're really half-mad." She gave way to giggling, shaking against me.

  I felt like something was slipping through my fingers, then. Like something that was mine that I was losing. The pouch gave off a shivering, close to nails being scraped along stone. I wanted to kiss her cheek, but I could not. I wanted to keep hold of her, but when she shifted back, I just allowed her to. I couldn't remember why I was being punished, but I got the distinct feeling that I was, and then she spoke again.

  "I'm so sorry for how long it took, were you terribly worried?"

  She wasn't clear in front of me. I blinked, then in an instant, reality shifted back. I was covered up, even my face, in robes. There were Genbuan rulers shuffling out of the silver room. Raand and Jaxom were there in a corner, being served by the woman servant. Ellia was wearing her Warrior's uniform—but she was still smiling peacefully at me.

  "I'm sorry for not allowing you to come," she told me. "I should have. I thought afterwards that it was foolish."

  That great energy built up in me again, in my arms, then through my shoulders, so that I thought for sure that I would take hold of her again. But instead my words came out in a steady breath. "Did it go alright? What did the rulers say? About the Tortoises?"

  "Oh, they said they would help, Cole. They said that they always meant to." She gave a short breath. "Cole, they only spoke on for hours as a trick. Or a test. They said they meant to measure my patience. Or something about their ancient ways. But the Tortoises agreed. That's what matters isn't it? They really agreed."

  I wanted to take hold of her neck, and kiss her, slantways, a full good, regular kiss that said we'd done it a hundred times before and could do it again whenever we liked.

  "Really? They agreed?" I repeated, my breath short again.

  She shook her head. "Oh, Cole, that's not all. It's not. I can't think to tell you all that happened. I'm so glad..." Her throat choked up, to sobs; though she wasn't crying, only her eyes were sparkling. She looked as if she would bring her hand up to touch around my face, but it stopped at my shoulder, clinging there. "I'm so glad you made me speak of Cyric," she finished. Head still shaking, she added, "Or else I might have never known. Oh Cole, he wasn't wicked after all. Not even a little. Not at all." She held her other hand up for me; in it was a little stone figure.

  I narrowed, staring at it for a moment, like it was something I should recognize but didn't—it was almost painful to view. But then my eyes widened, images flashing back to me. First King Savras in his great-hall, telling me he should like to see his orders done; then holding it in my palm, staring down at his dead body; then fiddling it around in my pocket while I waited outside of Lox's war-room; then taking it out, standing in the base floor of the councilman's keep in Karatel, waiting while Raand and Jaxom and their host readied their things, feeling rage like coiling heat in my gut, as I took it out of my pocket where it had lived all those weeks since Ellia had left me, then turning it in a slow circle, then letting it drop to the ground, with every intention of crushing it underfoot before being called to hurry the other men.

  I blinked now, uncertain that it was what I was really seeing. "Oh, Cole, I shouldn't be able to tell you what it means," Ellia said. "Only that Cyric was perfect. I think that he was better than anyone else in Shaundakul. I think next I will learn that he didn't kill men at all in battle, that he only pretended to. What do you think, Cole? Do you think he did more good by joining Akadia, than harm in fighting for it? He died, but did so much good. It's as if he gave his life to be great, not to be punished. Like some hero. Vishnu, and even better than Sigurd."

  She waited expectantly for my reply. While I took in her words, then heard a voice in my head. No. No, it was a punishment. That's why she's here like this, talking about someone else. That's why she wasn't wearing a dress, with her hair down, and why I wasn't wearing a crown, and why my face was hidden. I'd had so many years to do it right. I'd had so many chances, to make this story go differently. It wasn't just about what I'd wanted, but what had been in my heart—and I'd been too afraid to say it, now I couldn't wait another second.

  "I love you, Ellia," I told her. Like it was words she should already know. Like: didn't you know that even the first time I saw you? I thought that everyone who saw you must have loved you, for you were surely pieced together to be loved.

  But then, her eyes didn't do what I'd always expected that they would—even feared they would. A widening, and then a tearing, and then a brilliant smile that shouted I would break her if I failed! Instead her face closed to me, her expression, and the light in her eyes. Her hand fell from my shoulder. Her other closed tight around her figurine as it dropped to her side. Only once she stepped back, did her eyes widen, but it was a terrified sort of recognition, as if she'd only just recalled the way I'd kissed her before the meeting. As if she'd only just recalled that Cole loved her too, just as dearly as Cyric. That he'd promised to protect her and wanted to show her his face, so that they wouldn't be separated by anything any longer.

  Her head started shaking. I recalled that sensation, after she'd first spoken, of losing something. Then be
fore I could say another word—I meant to ask her not to answer—her name was called. She switched her eyes to the Genbuan, Kurma, as he spoke something about where she would spend the night. That he wanted that she would remain in the mountain, and that she would be given a suite and baths, and that her things would be brought from the inn, and that her guardian would be given a place to sleep as well.

  Not even another night, I heard in my head as Ellia's fingers clutched around her figurine.

  I shoved the pouch of Tongon's in my pocket, and I forgot what it was like to feel as if I were anything more than Cyric Dracla, son of a murderer; or Cole the Kanthian, second-placed to someone I couldn't remember being.

  ELLIA:

  It was a long night of conversation, and dining, and congratulations, so I was glad when I was let alone to my room, which was blue and sparkling. Then it was a short night of dreaming, endlessly of Cyric. All to myself, but with a sense of him so present that I couldn't remember what it felt like to be alone any longer. And I couldn't remember being less than brave as him. And I was a queen more than I was a princess.

  When I awoke, the blankets which had been so silver hours before had fallen to grey, and the torches of blue were not so much dazzling as sad. I picked up the figurine, which I'd set on my nightstand, and I thought of Cole. I thought of him holding up the map, speaking of how large the sacred halls looked, then telling me we would have to stay another night—and wouldn't we stay together again?

  But we hadn't, and I felt a knot in my gut, thinking of all I'd allowed the day before. I tried to tell myself it had been a magical effect of Genbu. I tried to reason that I hadn't showed any unreasonable marks of affection that should lead him to think that I could love him. These failed; it was only when I thought of standing in his grip on the river of ice, warning him to be careful, that I was only a little girl; I felt vindicated then.

  I clung to this feeling, and gripped it tightly to close out the others. And this went on through bathing, then dressing. It held up well until I exited into the hall—where I meant to meet the rulers for breakfast, and then further meetings—but then there he was, standing in the hall, leaning against the patterned walls, with blue carpet beneath him, looking as if he thought every evil of me that I'd imagined he should for leaving him without a word to sleep wherever the Genbuans put him.