Fallen Warrior (Fallen Trilogy book 3)

by Williams, Tess

  "Are you an idiot?" I demanded—that was the second time I'd called him idiot, right? But he didn't seem to mind. "They won't listen to me. I'm a traitor."

  "I don't want to do it. They will listen to you. You don't get them. They talk about you all the time, they even hate Lox some of them, because he killed you."

  Oh, I knew I should have been concentrated on the battle, on convincing Slark, on those projectiles around us, but this, it sent a shudder through me, not that I was really focusing on hit, or hearing it, or responding to it, it just did: give me a shudder, turn my chest tight, hearing anything like this, anything like these men had actually cared that I'd been killed, that it had mattered at all what I'd taught them, that I had. I had adrenaline shooting through my veins, from excitement, for this, and also for the fact that I was coming to realize so certainly that we were going to win; we really were. And Ellia was probably still safe—she would be. That was all there was left to worry for, so I only needed to go where I could watch her. If I could watch her, I could flag her down, somehow, feigning injury. —she wasn't needed anymore to fight, she just wasn't. We were going to win. And Kraehe hadn't shown up yet, not at all, not in hours— so maybe she was dead, or locked up underground. She wouldn't send Ellia crazy at all.

  All this, made my tone that much more firm when I spoke to Slark, made me more frantic to get to the top of a building, and search for Ellia.

  "No. You do it. It has to be you. Do it, Slark. You can do it, or men will die."

  "They won't all listen to me."

  "They will, and those who don't... it'll create enough confusion. It'll throw off all the soldiers all over."

  "The Yanartians... will they let us surrender?" Slark asked.

  The expression on his face, it made me wonder then, if he thought I was on their side, like I'd come here with them. No, I was sure, he thought that. —Or knew, as it were.

  I gave a solid nod. "Ellia's with them, Slark. These are good people; they don't want to kill you."

  "The princess," he spoke, like a breath, but it was just that, then he turned for the first time, away from me to watch the street, even those solders fighting off ahead, closer to the battling, even those aiming above, or waiting for his orders.

  "You can do it," I told him. "I know you can. I know you want to. I know you don't think that Lox is good."

  "Bloody idiot," Slark shouted, turning back to me, shoving my hand off him. "I never thought Lox was good. I'll kill you for not telling me you lived."

  My eyes went wide. His were vicious, and though he'd shoved me off angrily, there wasn't anything unkind in it, in fact, it seemed somewhat the opposite. Sort of the way Ellia had been on the granted mountain. Angry, yeah. Hateful, not so much.

  Had that been her same attitude in Karatel? now I couldn't tell.

  "Tell them to stop, or you're liable not to live yourself," I mocked back.

  He made a harsh sort of scoff—like a thick click in his throat. Then he shoved off my other hand in that same fashion as before and turned to his men; to the street, and all of them, and then he showed himself a man that Lox would have made a Lieutenant,—not only to spite me, but for good marks. He raised his sword in the air, that way he had so often when I'd signaled a break in training, then he shouted, in the loudest voice that the men should surrender, that they all should surrender. He ordered it, he warned of it. Head's turned to watch him. Many of Carklay's group, and Rohabim's, another of Lox's battalion, were here. They watched him as well, half-skeptic, mostly confused—looking between the sky, and the oncoming forces, and the burnt bodies of those struck with lightning. Someone shouted to kill Slark—not to listen—then the whole thing fell to disarray, just as I'd expected it would. They started arguing, literally arguing, there with swords in hands, but abandoned. Slark shouted how this order had come from Lox himself, then there was that other Lieutenant Carklay, back down on the street, calling to Slark whether this could be true.

  From what I guessed, Venoc's forces were to the east gate—if he was even still commanding his own battalion.

  I was pleased with the track of Slark's shouts. Dragon's breath, I was more than pleased. I thought my eyes were wet, but I wouldn't admit it was for tears, at least not for Slark and all his words about those men who'd cared for my death; or for the hope that this idiotic thing might have worked and hundreds of men, if not more, weren't going to die.

  I pretended instead, that it was the smoke off all that lightning-struck metal, or else, Ellia, and how I had to reach her, how I could and make her stop fighting; I didn't mind at all, admitting I could cry for that. I bolted straight upright, right on to jump and grab for the window behind me. It was eight feet up, but I kicked clear off the ground to reach it, scraping up the wall, then I swung myself up to bent knees, and leapt again—this time gripping the roof ledge.

  I heard the voices of men, shouting on about wyverns, so that just as I got to my feet on the roof, I looked up and saw first, the largest of the wyverns, Garagos's wyvern, hovering in the sky, then a chimera beside him. Two chimera. It was almost a great moment, because even as I watched, one of the chimera dived off away from the city, and then the other, and Garagos's on after. They were going to see the spoils, that was clear. The other wyverns were still fighting, but he was going, and once Garagos saw, he'd be hooked for sure. Just the wings of his wyvern were large enough to cross out the sun from my sight—which must have been the thing to call attention, creating only more confusion among the Akadian soliders. Wyverns with chimera?

  But the joy of moment was stolen, when I realized, that first chimera up with the wyvern, was Gael's. His chimera, had fierce brown, and orange and black streaks; it was obvious. And besides, Lodan Falster's... I knew his chimera was a plainish gold. Like Ellia's. Luffie. That second one, just behind Gael's, it was Luffie for sure—flanking Garagos's wyverns at the other side. But of course it was, if Gael was there, then so was Ellia. But why? She'd told me she would get Lodan to go; she'd promised, and I'd even asked it for it, so many times.

  I had to duck and roll, as a swarm of bolts (crossbow bolts) whizzed by me. Not for me, but for chimera in the air. Still, as soon as I came up again, I cupped my hands to my mouth and made to yell for Luffie. Only once I'd readied like that, did I realize that I couldn't call her. How? And stop them from leading Garagos away? Luffie was obviously there to back Yurei up. She couldn't leave—and that if she even heard me. I swore a curse, Shaundakul style,—which meant something about dragon's, stars, or trees, then let my shoulders slump, glancing back towards Slark to see how far the muddle of confused soldiers had spread.

  Even as I did, I heard my name called—which was wild, in this madness of battle. Not Cyric, but Cole. Cole, Cole, what are you doing up here, it said. Then I looked to see a Warrior, down off a building back, at the top of a roof. He had brown hair, and appeared as if he was setting up some sort of projectile launching contraption, something of the Democedians' I thought. But I felt both exasperated and guilty, because I had no idea who it was, not his name at least, only that maybe his rank was third—or fourth?—after Gael, second ranked I was almost sure of that. He knew my name though?

  "What are you doing?" he repeated. "Where's the princess?"

  I'd already lifted my hands up to call back to him: that after his first question at least. But then, with his second, I froze solid. It felt... like the battle around me, all the noise, the sky, the blue and the gold, was shifting, or twisting around on itself. Everything was silent, and everything was wrong, for that split moment. Then I replied, "What do you mean?" But it was just a whisper, no worse, a breath. So I shouted back louder, louder than I knew I had in me, making my stupid broken throat crack, "What do you mean where is she?"

  It didn't take him a second to call back. He obviously wasn't so debilitated, even as he still half-worked to set-up his equipment; another man had stopped beside him.

  "She's fighting with you, isn't she? That's what she told us."

 
That feeling of the world shifting all wrong, it came again; this time I wanted to look up to where Luffie had been. I wanted to shout back to the Warrior: "no look, there's her chimera, she's up there, she's alright. You must have it wrong, third-rank. She's safe. Albeit near a giant wyvern; yes, I'd been upset about that to, but she'll make it. Garagos loves spoils. Goblins love spoils. She's up there on Luffie. She's fine." But what I really heard, was Ellia's voice, even as she sat, knelt, just to my side—back in her cabin, back on Yanartas. And me, I'd been leaning back against her short table, my legs kicked up against the wall, pretending to read about Lox's old battles, like I didn't know them all by heart, already.

  "So... Cole?" she'd said.

  "Yes Ellia?" I'd thought she sounded cute, so I'd looked over at her—and hadn't been disappointed by her expression; a bitten lip, one pinched eye. "Where do you think," she began. I lifted my brows; she wouldn't see it. I was stuck thinking: look how she's watching me; she certainly loves me. She'll know who I am soon. We'll be in love forever. "Where do you think that Lox would be, during the battle?"

  I frowned—not that she would see that either—even while in my head, I'd been thinking: she repeated herself... wouldn't that be stuttering? She'd stuttered for me, at times, when I was Cyric. Didn't that prove a sign of love? Then I'd replied. "What sorts of battles do you mean? Like, when he attacks a city?"

  "No, I meant rather, when we would attack Akadia... I mean, when the Warriors do. All of them."

  "Oh." I took this matter more seriously now, even setting down my papers. But in doing that, I'd seen her legs, which she was just then shifting to stretch out beside me. She crossed them, foot over foot. It was an absent motion on her part, but it had me stuttering by the time I looked back to her eyes. "Ah... he would be in his war room. That's where he always is. That's where he commands his men from."

  "The whole time?" she'd responded, and I'd been so panicked then, so suddenly that I'd spoken so surely about where he'd be—things I could hardly know, without knowing him well, because when had Akadia ever been attacked while Lox was commander?—so panicked, that I'd spent the next half-hour explaining it away. Going on to answer, that no, he wouldn't be there the whole time.

  It would depend on how the battle was going; he would have set instructions to his officers, and as the battle progressed, he would send word by men what they should do next—depending on how the battle was going. I hadn't told her all of this, since it would only dig my hole deeper, but I'd told her the truth that I could, only because I hated to lie to her. And I'd not thought anything of it then, apart from panic. I hadn't thought anything of it, even, when we'd been standing alone, just the two of us, in the throne-room, at Karatel, and she'd said sweetly, "And Lox will be there, directing from his war-room," or when she'd set the dragon there, frowning.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid. Now all those things I hadn't told her precisely about Lox, were flooding my mind. Where would he be? I had to think on it. Would he be in his war-room? Would he have gone there? When? Was he there now? He'd know the battle was failing. My Lox would know, if he wasn't there, he'd be trying to get away. Yeah, he could be trying to get away. But Ellia. Ellia. Ellia. She was gone there, wasn't she, and it was my fault. Where would he be, do you think, Cole? Oh, in the war room. You'll make sure Lodan goes with Garagos, right? Hadn't that whole thing been my idea? Oh, yes, Cole. Lodan will go, even though we're a little worried that he might not be able to convince him. Not be able to convince him? She'd lied to me! She'd outright lied to me! She'd lied to the Warriors! What sort of girl was she? What had she even been thinking? She couldn't. She couldn't. She was with Luffie, she had to be. She was next to Gael, and Garagos.

  Luffie!

  I shot my gaze upwards, searching for them. But they weren't there. They were gone. I could hardly make out a black shadow in the sky, far off. No, they couldn't be! Ellia what's wrong with you?

  "She's not with me," I shouted back to the Warrior. "She isn't with Gael?" I only asked this, out of desperation, barely. I ran closer, even as he shot one of his projectiles into the sky; they were explosive powder, I thought. Yes: that man helping him was a Democedian. They were already shooting? How long had I spent in slow realization? Slow realization of what was obvious!

  "Gael of the second-rank? No he's gone to lead the wyvern—"

  I didn't let him barely get this out, before interrupting. "She's not there. She's not there. She's gone to Lox. Tell Lucian."

  "What?"

  "Tell somebody. Tell one of the Warriors. Tell anybody. Get Luffie back. Tell her she's gone to Lox's..." But here, my voice cut out, and my feet started working instead. I saw black spots. Then I wasn't seeing well at all. But I was running. I could tell that. I was moving, over the roof. I could tell the highest part of the city ahead of me. I could see soldiers like ants, and even more, a mass of color, to the east. A mass of red, in the streets. I thought to myself, that this was all my fault. I heard Leddy's voice in my head. Oh, like a blow, I heard it in my head: "That will depend on many things, prince." —Whether I would be with Ellia after all this, to leave her, to dance with Leddy. It would depend on many things, in that sad tone. Had she known? Had she known that I was an idiot? Had she known when she was warning me I'd better think about my care for Lox, that I'd better sort through it, or it would cause me problems. Those problems—things I'd thought were problems—was maybe having to see him captured, having him insult me again, even bound by chains; tell me I was worthless again. Not this. When Tosch had told in the woods, when he'd asked, when he'd showed me himself, biting at the other ivoronsu, that feeling of good versus evil, saying: Shouldn't you kill him, master? Shouldn't you kill him? Just like he'd said, Ellia loves you. You told me in the field. You should go to her, you love her too. Let's go to the ocean —those weeks in the desert with Silos, whenever I'd tried to ride him. Let's go to the ocean, let's go to the ocean. You should go to fight Lox. Shouldn't you fight him? Isn't he evil? Aren't you good?

  But I hadn't listened, reasoning that Lucian, or one or other of the Warriors, Amalia, blasted anyone had a better right to duel him than I did. Now, Ellia, Ellia! Ellia was the one who'd decided she had the right. I was going to kill her. I was going to kill her. I was going to kill myself; I was an idiot. And now, now I was standing on a roof, with soldiers crowding the streets all below me, crowding the streets like ants, at the start of the gates of the palace district. So that I wondered, for a relieved moment: How could Ellia get past all of these? She couldn't. Not if she'd abandoned Luffie. Luffie would never take her to Lox anyways. It was fine. That's fine. Well, I'll go to him now, and I'll fight him. That's my job. I'll fight him, if I can only get past; then she'll never have a chance to go.

  But all of that, was in a split second, then I felt her crown on my arm, like a burning reminder, then I saw her disappear before my eyes, in the room at Karatel. I groaned, audibly, for the thought, for even the idea of her going to smoke, then moving past the soldiers. I groaned for the idea that I'd encouraged her to practice her magic. Was I going to have killed her? Was I going to have killed my Ellia? I wouldn't last, I would die, if she died like this.

  My legs were already taking me off again, now not towards the gate, but past those fighting crowds from the east gate—where the combatants were distracted. Beyond that was the training district. And beyond that a red-rock wall. I'd climbed it once, that morning, the day after I'd kissed her. I'd tried to make others climb it, none of them had been able. It hadn't been easy to climb, after all. Lox had come to watch me. He'd been impressed. I'd pictured the silver stones of her tower, while I'd climbed it. I'd wanted to forget it. Now, I remembered something else. I remembered coming to Akadia for the first time, shown through the streets of color, led to the showers, led on towards that square full of Shaundakulians in white, and thinking, thinking on the way, while I looked up at that red-rock wall: "Ellia's probably given herself away, given her identity away. Isn't that the palace up there? She'll have probably g
otten herself taken away up there. That's where they'd take if they found out. I'm probably going to end up climbing that wall—just to save her."

  So now, I realized, even as I put my first hand to the wall, that I'd been right, even back then so long ago. But I'd been wrong when I'd thought I would be in simple annoyance about it. I couldn't hardly breathe.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  ELLIA:

  Whispering. That's what it always felt like—when I used my powers. I didn't think, since I'd learned the ability for myself—here in those mines of Akadia, those gem-sorting caves with those giant machines that purified metal—I didn't think that I'd ever used it for so long. Was it because I'd gone so long without using it that I could? Well, then it was perfect. I wanted that to be so. Then it would be that I'd stopped using it for Cyric's sake. So that now I would have the ability to kill for Cyric's sake.

  Should it have been Lucian? Amalia? Raand? Jaxom? I didn't know; I didn't care. I wanted to do it. I needed to, for myself.

  These halls, they weren't red, and gold as they were when I'd last been here, as they always were. Those buildings of the palace district hadn't been sparkling, as they'd always been, as they'd been that first day when Tobias had showed us on to the highest district of the city, that day when I'd thought I'd lost Cyric forever, so I'd wanted to die, but then there he'd been, just in time for my slap, saying something about... right, about how I'd begun to slap him too soon. Already, Ellia? Already? What could I have possibly done?

  You died, you dolt. I hate you.

  But to go on, none of it of Akadia looked as it should; that was because of my powers. Things never looked as they should, when I was disappeared. There was a fog over them. All the colors were turned to grey. The edges of objects were darker, and sometimes swirling, and sometimes turned to a milky color like skin in shadow.

  It was loud, for me, in this state. Like a wind rushing by, like a storm for my ears alone. I'd grown sick, marching through, just to see those soldiers. Soldier upon soldier, thousands of soldiers, and this just for the streets alone. It had been so clustered with soldiers that I hadn't even been able to avoid running through them; I'd try, for it seemed strange when I did; it was harder to maintain, but inevitably one or the other would walk through me.