by J F Rogers
“Wake up, Fallon. ’Tis time. Regent Kagan has requested your presence,” Sandor said.
I threw the blanket aside. Still fully dressed, I followed Sandor and glanced under the bed at the empty bag. The fur-ridden clothes were the only evidence of Rowan. Was she still in raccoon form? Where was she?
Sandor led me outside—so dark.
I tripped over myself. “How long was I asleep?”
“About an hour. Come.” He quickened his pace up the steps to the top of the wall.
“They’re coming, Fallon.” Kagan spoke without looking my way. “Can you see them?”
I peered in the direction of his gaze, squinting my left eye. “I see dark spots where the waves don’t reflect the moonlight.”
“Aye. Those dark spots are a fleet.” He handed me a spyglass.
I closed my left eye and peered through the spyglass. “Are they coming to rescue us?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m afraid not. Those ships are full of fasgadair. They’ve overrun Bandia and are continuing their attack.”
“What if they’re more citizens of Bandia or refugees who escaped?”
“Only an enemy would pursue us here with an entire fleet. My men would stay a safe distance away and send a scout.”
“What do you want from me?”
He stared into my eyes as if attempting to hypnotize me. “Set them on fire.”
“What?” I jerked back. “How can you ask me to?”
“If you don’t, we will die.”
“What about your archers?” I nodded at the row of armed men alongside us, atop the wall, arrows ready. “Why don’t you shoot them with flaming arrows?”
Kagan squinted as if giving my idea thought. “Flaming arrows?”
“Yeah.” Had they never heard of that here? “Wrap the tips and ignite them.”
He gave me the look. “You want me to unbalance the arrows by adding weight to the front? How accurate could such an arrow be? How far would it fly?”
“Well, I—”
He raised a hand to silence me. “Wouldn’t the arrow’s speed extinguish the flame midair?”
“I don’t—”
“And should the arrow miraculously meet its mark from such a distance with the flame alight, wouldn’t the fasgadair stomp out whatever minuscule flame remained?”
I didn’t bother to respond. Why did the movies make it seem so easy?
“Enough nonsense. We can’t defeat such an enemy with man-made weapons from this distance. But you!” He stepped forward, a sick smile overtaking his face, reminding me of the Joker. “You can look at those dark spots and set them ablaze. You, Fallon.” He grasped my upper arms and gave me a little shake. “You have the power to save us.” He smiled at me as if I was his favorite toy.
I edged back, but his grip remained. “Those are people!”
His smile twitched, and his eyes narrowed. “Those are murderous demons!”
How could I trust him? Any of them? His people were liars.
Then again, there’s no way he wanted me to kill his people. Who would he rule? “Are you sure they’re all fasgadair?”
“Do you care to wait until they arrive to find out?”
“Yes. I can save them.”
“You can’t.” He shook his head emphatically, shaking me in the process. “Not before they storm this beach and annihilate us.” He released his grip. “How many can safely feed on you at most? Three? Four? Any more than that would kill you. Fallon, can’t you see? You can’t save them. But you can save us.” He sighed, took a kerchief from inside his jacket, and dabbed his brow. “I realize my methods of detaining you were a bit…forceful.”
Understatement, buddy.
“I’m merely trying to protect our people and my king. If I thought there were any captives, I wouldn’t ask this. But we have eyewitnesses. My men saw the fasgadair pilfer the ships and kingdom. Is that correct, Tyge?” He glanced at a guard holding a bow. “Tell Fallon what you told me.”
Tyge kept his eye on the sea. “The bloodsuckers arrived with a fleet the likes of which I’ve never seen. The other guards froze. They just…let the monsters kill them. I didn’t understand why until the bloodsuckers got too close to me. It was like… like…”
“You were paralyzed?” I asked.
“Aye.” Tyge nodded, still facing the threat from sea. “Somehow, they missed me at my post. They passed by, and I could move again. I followed along the shore to the harbor. Thousands of the beasts rushed the piers killing everyone in their path. Others took over our fleet. Probably to pursue us, waving our flags, hoping we’ll think just what yer thinking.” He leaned his bow against the wall, wiped his palms, then armed himself again. “Once they’re close enough to paralyze us, there’ll be no stopping them.”
“We can’t let them reach our shores.” Kagan’s eyes implored me. “We rescued the king. My highest priority is to protect him. We need you to protect us.”
Black dots bobbed on the waves, growing larger. Hadn’t I just been willing to ignite fasgadair to save Bandia? Wolf would tell me to light them up too. I envisioned Aodan’s head when I lit it on fire. It hurt. He’d howled in pain. But his scorched skull returned to normal. His hair even grew back perfectly. The worst I could do was maim them and sink their ships. Then what would happen? Would they swim? Or would they drown, regenerate, then drown again? Would they spend their lifetime drowning over and over in this sea? If any of them are air or sea creatures, they’ll transition and attack. “What if all I manage to do is anger them?” I swiveled back to Kagan, beseeching any goodness I hoped lay within him. “If they’re fasgadair, it won’t kill them. And if they’re not…” I gulped. My stomach lurched.
Tyge shot an arrow. It arched into the sky and skewered a bird. Both splashed into the sea. Tyge readied another arrow and scanned the sky.
“They are fasgadair. And you’re right. You’ll likely only delay them. We can only hope they’ll continue to drown to buy us more time to find a way to get to the pech and win this war. We can pick off one or two at a time. But if even one ship reaches our shores”—he held up a finger to emphasize his point—“if just one shipload of bloodsuckers charges this castle, our fight is over.” Kagan watched me with such intensity, I feared he might set me on fire. “It’s our best chance. If you don’t try, those monsters will kill us. They will kill you.” He pointed at the dark spots taking shape. “Our race is on the verge of extinction. You’re our only hope.”
Tears slid down my face. How else could we get out of this?
I remembered God’s words—Save Arabella. Was this the only way? Where was she?
The fleet closed in. I lifted the spyglass. The flags…Bandia’s quadruple spiral. Yes, they’d attack us in Bandia’s own ships.
But how could I set these people on fire? People who might have another chance at life? How could I torture them like this? I collapsed to my knees, my heart wrenching as if squeezed in a vice grip.
“Please.” Kagan held a hand out to me. His face and his voice softened. “Ariboslia needs you.”
I grabbed his hand. As if in a trance I stood, my limbs numb. How could I not?
“They’re getting closer.”
I studied the ships. Sobs choked me as I stared at my target. It’s like lighting candles in a chandelier, Fallon. They’re just candles. This is nothing. The lead ship erupted in flames. The others slowed. My legs gave out, and I fell on my butt, crying, while praises rang out around me.
“Well done, Fallon!”
Cheers erupted along the wall while I cried for the lives I tortured…possibly ended. I hoped they truly were fasgadair. No captives. But if that were true, what would become of them? Had I taken away their only chance for redemption?
“They’re still advancing!” someone called out.
I stood. The ships circumvented the one in flames.
“Please, Fallon. You need to get them all.”
How many p
eople did I have to kill? Why didn’t they turn around? “I can’t!”
“You have to. We need you.”
“They’re gaining speed,” a voice called from the darkness. “What are your orders?”
“Fallon?” Kagan pressed.
Two ships now took the lead. Just candles. Nothing more. In turn, they burst into flames. Apathy set in as the ships behind the three in flames changed course.
“They’re retreating!” Cheers erupted from every direction as a part of me lay dying.
I dropped to the cold, unforgiving stone. What had I done?
Chapter Twenty-Two
◊◊◊
I TOSSED IN BED, TURNED the pillow to the cool side, and flipped myself over. Like a fish on land, I kept flopping. The blanket twisted around my legs. I kicked them free. Worst-case-scenario images flipped through my brain like a sped-up slideshow.
Had the prisoners gotten out? What had I done to the people on the ships? They had to be fasgadair. They had to. Would they eventually have a chance at redemption? Or would they spend the rest of their lives dying under the sea?
I needed my friends. Had they really abandoned me? Like Cahal abandoned Declan? Where were they? Were they okay? Wherever they were, they were better off away from this place.
I deserved whatever fate awaited me.
My mind wouldn’t stop. Like clothes in a dryer with a broken timer, they just kept tumbling and tumbling—the prisoners, the ships, my friends. The prisoners, the ships, my friends.
Had I done the right thing? Had I bought time to find a way out?
This whole time, I’d killed some poor little weasel and possibly a jail and three ships full of people. I’d redeemed one. Only one.
A match struck, and light illuminated the room. Rowan replaced the glass on the oil lamp. “You weren’t sleeping. Might as well plan our escape.”
I sat up. My puffy eyes hardly open. “I shouldn’t be here. I’m making things worse.”
“You did what you had to do.” She pushed hair out of my face and frowned.
“Did I?” I couldn’t get Aodan’s reaction to having his head set on fire out of my mind. That’s what I’d just done to three ships’ worth of fasgadair.
God, I’ll never survive this if they weren’t fasgadair.
“Three ships,” I said.
“I understand. There are seldom any decisions that don’t result in casualties during war. We’d all likely be dead if you hadn’t acted. Push these feelings aside. Let’s plan our escape.”
“How? We’re on an island surrounded by guards. And I’m not lighting them on fire.”
“I may know a way.” Her lips slid into a mischievous grin.
“I’m not going to threaten to…”
“I wouldn’t ask it of you.” She waved her hand dismissing the thought. “Kagan will have potions with him. Tomorrow, when he and his guards are away from his chambers, I’m going to find a potion we can use to get past the guards. Something to knock them out long enough to get into the tunnels. There are boats on the other side of the island. Once we’re on a boat, there’s nothing they can do. They won’t chance killing you. And now that they’ve seen what you’re capable of”—she laughed—“they’ll be too afraid to try.”
Her words pierced my heart. People had reason to fear me now. What kind of monster had I become?
****
I pushed my porridge around the bowl. Disquiet loomed. Men wearing the same black garb were engaged in heated conversation. Their voices differed, but they looked the same. Guards. Keeping me here. Trapped. Occasionally, my name pulled me out of my trance. But they talked about me, not to me.
Women and children sat at other tables. Mothers scooped porridge into their children’s bowls from their own. Whenever a child’s gaze drifted my way, they looked away or received a stern warning.
I was a pariah.
With my half-empty bowl still on the table, I returned to my room. Had Rowan been successful? I couldn’t wait to escape. “Rowan?”
The room was empty.
“How could you!” a voice shouted.
Rowan? I peeked into the hallway, grateful for the lack of locks, not that they needed locks when the entire place was a jail. Two guards ran into the room beside mine. I followed.
“Calm yourself, Your Highness,” Kagan said.
Facing Kagan, Rowan stood next to a withered man in the bed. She held a knife in the air, ready to strike. “You’re killing him. You’re killing him with your potions!”
“Princess Arabella?” one of the guards spoke quietly to another.
Kagan held his hand up to keep them at bay. The guards watched, like coils ready to spring should Kagan give the word.
“With all due respect, Your Highness, you’re mistaken.” Kagan moved his arm so he now defended himself against her. “I’ve been keeping him alive.”
The knife dropped slightly, then sprung back into the air. “You expect me to believe that, you manipulative, power-hungry vulture?”
“Leave us.” Kagan waved us away.
The guards hesitated.
“Go.” He stepped toward us, waving his arms.
We retreated into the hall. I returned to my room and put my ear to the wall. Nothing. I searched along the wall and found a crack between bricks. Only Rowan was visible.
“When you left, your father became ill.”
“Aye. You made him ill.” Her voice was murderous.
“Arabella. You’re a smart woman. Think about what you’re suggesting. I know my potions. If I’d wanted the throne, I would have used the right potion, and he would be dead. I would be king. But that is not my desire. My allegiance is to my gods and to my king…to the royal family, chosen by the gods. And to the crown.”
She waved the knife in the air. “Valter would’ve inherited the throne. You’re keeping my father alive to maintain control.”
“Had I wanted the throne, I’d have killed Valter as well. My loyalty has always been to the gods and to ensuring their blessing on those in power. The crown belongs to your father…to you. It’s your birthright. It would be my honor to return the crown to its rightful owner.”
The knife lowered. “Then what’s happened to him? This isn’t natural.”
“This was a murder attempt by someone unskilled in potions. I made a buille cridhe to keep him alive while I sought a better solution. I’ve pored through my books. I’ve sought counsel from apothecaries, herbalists, sorcerers, diviners, and other priests. I’ve searched the lands for anyone who might revive him. But alas, there is none. The buille cridhe is keeping him alive. If he goes twenty-four hours without it, he will die.”
“Who tried to kill him?” Low and lethal, the question seethed from her lips. Her hand shook.
“Jorge Durnin.”
She covered her mouth with her free hand. “Jacobus’s father?”
“Aye,” Kagan said. “He faced judgment and was beheaded.”
“Sir Durnin knew nothing of potions.”
“I was surprised as well. But we found evidence in his home. The potion that put your father in this state. Rest assured. We caught the criminal. Justice was served.”
“I just can’t believe—what was his motive?”
“Jacobus went missing the night you were kidnaped. We took his father in for questioning. Sir Durnin insisted his son was not involved in a plot and had likely been kidnaped as well or harmed in an attempt to rescue you. He became bitter and angry toward the king for making accusations and tainting his son’s name. He spent his nights in a tavern where he spoke out against the king to anyone who’d lend an ear. His assassination attempt came as no surprise. Though I’m dumbfounded as to how he got so close. If it had been the right poison…”
This had to be killing Rowan. She’d blame herself now.
She wiped a tear. “How long has he been like this?”
“Six years. And a few months.”
“
You’ve been giving him buille cridhe every twenty-four hours?” Dropping the knife, she sat beside her father. She brushed his cheek. “He must be so weak. Have you considered the side effects? Even if he wakes, he’ll never be the same. He’ll never rule again.”
“If you’re willing to claim your throne, I’ll cease the treatments. If that is your wish.”
“I could never wish my father dead. There’s truly nothing more you can do?” A tear slid down her cheek.
“I wish there was.”
“How can I leave him like this?” Rowan leaned down to kiss her father. Blonde waves fell onto his face. “Forgive me for abandoning you, Father.” She dabbed her tears from his face.
“Princess.” Kagan stepped into view. “These are the direst of circumstances under which to receive your crown. But it is rightfully yours.” He cleared his throat. “Do you wish to fulfill your duty?”
“I didn’t think I could after what I’ve done. But what other choice is there?”
“From my perspective, you are evidence that our gods have not abandoned us. I’ll give you a moment alone with your father and speak with my men…your men.” Kagan bowed and left the room.
I spun, slid down the wall, and sat. There was no hope of leaving with Rowan now.
Chapter Twenty-Three
◊◊◊
I POKED MY HEAD outside my chamber for the hundredth time. Rowan still hadn’t returned. Where was she? I slipped through the door and slinked down the staircase like a kid sneaking out of time-out.
Someone familiar walked past. “Valter!”
He swung his head. His hair disheveled, dark bags under his eyes, he flashed me a fake smile. “Fallon. Good to see you.” His words didn’t match his tone. He glanced around me as if searching for someone.
“Were you here the whole time?” I closed the gap between us.
“Aye. I haven’t had much rest. I have no idea how many of the birds I shot out of the air were just birds. But we’ll eat well tonight.”
Did he know my totem was a falcon? I’d hate to end up on someone’s platter. I’d probably skip the meat tonight.