Rise of the Sparrows (Relics of Ar'Zac #1)

by Sarina Langer

  “We know” Cale said, holding her gaze. “None of us have ever taught anyone how to be a prophet, but my sister has taught many others like you. The only difference is in the magic they use. She has agreed to teach you as best as she can, if you'll let her.” Cale sounded so hopeful. His eyes were pleading with her to reconsider, even Arlo and Cephy seemed to be begging her from across the table. How had she become entangled in this mess? It seemed like only yesterday she had to beg for just one old slice of stale bread.

  “I can't do this.” Rachael got up, barely even feeling the pain when her knees bashed into the corner of the large table. Cale tried to get up after her but Arlo shot him a look. Despite the door being wide open the air inside the hut was too oppressive. She needed to get somewhere with an open sky and no walls, where she could breathe and be alone.

  King Aeric Ellery paced up and down the throne room of his palace, contemplating his options. Just when had his life dealt him this terrible hand? The people with magic were a danger beyond belief, but to slaughter them all... His people had spoken, and he would enforce their voices as he had vowed to do many years ago. If the people were this afraid to be backed into such a corner, then he would stand before them as their shield.

  Still, to now seek help from the very same people he had promised to eradicate – it was not right.

  Finally, he stopped and took a look at his two guests. His most trusted commander and some Mist Woman he had never even heard of before were sitting at his long-table, patiently waiting for him to speak—or, rather, his commander looked patient. She looked anything but, and as dangerous as his people had told him. She would have been beautiful otherwise. Her long, curly black hair which flowed around her slender shoulders complimented her soft features. The look in her eyes, however, ruined the image. A glare as cold as death itself dug itself into his heart. She would not be patient much longer.

  “Commander Videl! A report of... recent events, please. For our guest.”

  The man nodded and rose from his chair, looking like the very embodiment of justice. King Aeric had heard what had happened before, but he still found it hard to believe even now, despite the many bandages which seemed to be the only thing holding the commander's body together.

  “My Lord, I and my men had ridden to Blackrock – a small village to the north, near the Boneanvil Mountains – on the urgent request of its people. There were two witches living there, one prophetess and one who controls fire.” A look almost more terrifying than that of the Mist Woman entered his expression. King Aeric had seen his First Commander angry before, but his entire unit had never been wiped out like this. Most prisoners came freely, knowing that they had no other options left. They were always on foot, whereas the White Guard had enough horses for every man serving. They knew they had nowhere to run. According to the commander, these two girls had not only run but they had burnt his men to a crisp. Beyond a doubt, they had to be punished. To have magic and to have murdered so many in cold blood... There could be no other option.

  “And what happened then?” He needed to move this on. There were important meetings to go to, never mind the usual sitting he did with his loyal subjects. No doubt they would report nothing but more crimes against their freedom again, all of them caused by magic.

  It seemed magic was the problem behind everything these days.

  “We managed to track them down and pull them out of their hidy-hole, my Lord. The little one burnt us all down.” The fire in his eyes gave an accurate image of the very same fire that had engulfed his men. “The little bitch would have gotten me, too, if she had gotten a good look at me. I was the last one standing, and she barely had the time to pay attention to me.” There was a hunger in his eyes King Aeric recognised well. The commander was always ready to bring another witch to justice, and he would have these two as well. He simply needed a better unit, and he would receive it.

  On the other side of the table, the Mist Woman chuckled.

  “What is so amusing to you, my good woman? Do you not feel any grief for those who have died?” He knew she was far more dangerous than some little girl, but this was his city and his throne room, and those had been good men. He would not allow her to be disrespectful in his home.

  “I merely laugh at your so-called men. These were children, slaughtered by other children. You cannot truly hope to murder the Fox with little boys' games, do you?” The commander shot her a look equally as dangerous.

  “Remember who you are talking to! This is King Aeric, son of our beloved King Rorden, ruler of—”

  She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “I know who he claims to be, commander. I say, if you want to be a king you will have to grow up first.”

  Commander Videl looked ready to strike her down with his bare hands where she stood. “How dare you! We should hang you like all the others, you filthy b—”

  “Enough!” His voiced thundered through his throne room. Had he possessed any hint of magic himself the walls and very foundations would have shaken with respect. The Mist Woman, however, did not look ready to show even the slightest sign of respect. “Commander, why don't you introduce me to our guest?”

  Scowling at her, the commander clenched his fists at his side as best as he could in his condition, and began to speak when she interrupted him.

  “I can speak for myself, my Lord. I am Aeron, and I know how you can defeat those girls.”

  The commander looked ready to protest once more, but he knew when to stay his hand. If what she said was true then he was not about to lose their one chance at getting those witches. King Aeric knew him well enough to know exactly what he was thinking.

  He was not sure he liked where any of this was going, but he was at the very beginning of a war he didn't want to wage. When the enemy had the upper hand, which they beyond a doubt had, then he would have to employ the means to defeat them—no matter how uncomfortable that made him. It was his duty as Rifarne's King to protect his people, no matter the cost.

  “Speak.”

  “The one who is of any danger to you at all is the older of the two. Her name is Rachael, the prophetess your commander talked about. She is harmless, her magic of no use whatsoever.”

  “How can she be of any danger to me, then?” He did not like having to ask for information. He was the King,. Information should be given to him, not begged for.

  “Because prophecy names her so.”

  He was losing his patience, but knew better than to react prematurely. “We have no time for this nonsense!”

  “Then I am afraid you will just have to lose this insignificant battle you want to call a war, my King. Your people will die, but they will die quickly. I am sure they will find solace in that.”

  When this was all over he would have her quartered for the way she spoke to him.

  “Explain yourself, then.”

  “Prophecy will reveal itself when the time is right. You must find Rachael and kill her before she can kill you.” He nodded, rummaging through his options. Rachael was not dangerous, according to Aeron. His own commander had reported that it was the younger one who had destroyed his unit. Taking care of Rachael should not be an issue once they were separated.

  “And the girl?”

  “The Fox will come to me when the time is right. She will be a valuable asset to your army.”

  “No she won't!” The commander had finally lost his patience and glared at her, ready to tear her heart out where she stood. “My Lord, the girl needs to die! She has obliterated my men, I demand vengeance!”

  “You demand nothing from me, Commander Videl. You will have your vengeance, but first we need her to stop this war!”

  Commander Videl had been a loyal friend and advisor to him ever since they were children. He disliked having to remind him of their stations like this, but it had to be done. The only one in any position here to demand anything was him, and Aeron needed to learn her place.

  “My Lord.” Clutching his fist to his chest the commander stoo
d in silent respect.

  “Now, Aeron, tell me what you had in mind and we will begin preparations.”

  A wicked smile spread on her lips. “With pleasure.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Two small rabbits sat on the frozen grass not far away from Rachael. Her clothes and legs were slowly growing damp from the patches of snow under her, but her focus belonged to the small animals who were chewing on the very same grass only two shuffles away from her. They looked happy. Well-fed, too. This forest was bountiful from what she had seen of it so far. Little tasty looking berries grew everywhere despite the low temperatures, the grass was a healthy, verdant green under the frost and nuts grew on several trees just around Arlo's hut alone. She didn't know how deep inside the forest they were, but she believed that things were in even better shape farther in. The two rabbits had a good life here, amongst all this free food. Every now and again Arlo killed some of them for his supper, but she could tell by the larger hides drying on racks outside his hut that he shot bigger prey more often. The rabbits had nothing to fear with him around.

  Feeling a pang of jealousy, Rachael sighed. Even these tiny animals had a better life than she had ever had. They looked content together, eating all the free reserves nature threw at their feet, and Arlo took care of taking out their predators. Right here, outside his house, they were safe—alone with just the two of them, but safe and no doubt happy.

  Careful not to scare them, Rachael extended her hand and the rabbits froze. She had never seen one of these creatures before—not outside the butcher's window—but she had heard other children speak of petting them. They had told each other stories about gently stroking a rabbit's coat and about how soft it felt to their hands. Just once Rachael wanted to be able to do the same. Just once Rachael wanted the same normality in her life.

  The moment her hand got close enough the rabbits dashed off into the thicket. Rachael heard the soft rustle of leaves and branches for a short moment, and then the sound was gone. Every proof that rabbits had just been here, in front of her, eating to their heart's content had disappeared save their small paw prints in the fresh snow.

  Disappointed, Rachael let her hand sink by her side and pulled her legs up to her chest, seeking comfort in her own hug. The rabbits didn't have an easy life at times, she was sure of it, but they were cautious enough not to get caught and they had each other. That was all she had wanted, too, and yet here they were with two madmen expecting her to do the unthinkable.

  Her shoulders slumped as her head hid between her kneecaps. How could two men who had never met her before expect her to just go and assassinate King Aeric? He was the best-protected man in the country. Even if she did agree to do something as foolish as that, she would stand no chance of getting close enough to do as they asked. And just why did she have to be the one to do it? Because some ancient prophecy said so? It was hard to believe in things like that. Her dreams were real and had proved true many times, but prophecies had been written centuries ago by people who had never met her. How could they say something as vile as this about her? What made them think that she could walk up to the king, pierce his heart with a steel dagger, and walk away like nothing had happened?

  Desperately needing the comfort, she hugged her legs closer to herself. That wasn't right. They did not expect her to just walk away once she had done the grisly deed. They wanted her to take his place. Rachael, Queen of Rifarne.

  A small, nervous smile graced her lips. They could not be serious. Yes, things were bad for people like her. No one knew the truth of that better than she did, and she wouldn't have disagreed with anyone about it, but killing the king was too much to ask. Was there no other option? Surely the most powerful man in the country could be reasoned with. She wanted to live happily in peace like the next person, but committing regicide for it was too much of a sacrifice. She was no murderer.

  In the past she had defended herself when necessary. She knew how to hurt a man if need be, but at most she had attacked two men at the same time in self-defence. Taking on a whole army was an entirely different matter. Those men had been out to hurt her and leave her to bleed on the cold cobblestone streets, but the king had never lifted a finger against her.

  A small sob escaped her throat. That wasn't true, either. The king had done more than lift his finger against her. He had commanded his army to hunt her down and take her to the city to have her executed, simply for having dreams of the future. Was that fair? She couldn't hurt anyone with her curse. Cale was insistent that his sister train her, help her understand this curse and develop it into something more useful, but she doubted she was capable of that. Cephy was the dangerous one, but they had been together for a while now and the girl had never tried to hurt her. In fact, Rachael had never seen her hurt anything. She had defended herself, too, same as Rachael had done before with those rapists and thugs, but Cephy had never attacked anything for the sake of it. She was careful with her gift. It had slipped out a couple of times in Blackrock, but there had been no accidents since Rachael had been on the run with her.

  Frowning, she wondered if whatever Aeron had taught her had helped Cephy after all. But why? It was obvious that Aeron could not have cared less about them. What could she gain from helping Cephy? All she had done was distract Rachael with books about magic, she was sure of it now. She had never planned to do anything for Rachael, but Cephy had become more controlled. Her magic no longer leaked out if she wasn't careful enough. Why do that? Aeron wanted them both dead. What did she stand to gain from helping Cephy if she were only going to kill her later? Maybe Cale was right. Maybe this really was just a game to her, and Aeron had nothing to gain from it but the excitement of the hunt. She had seen it many times in Blackrock. Cats would often play with mice and kill them when they got bored. Sometimes the mouse dying was an accident, when the cat had played a little too rough. Was that all Aeron was? An excitable predator?

  “I'm sorry. We didn't want to break the news to you like this.” She jumped around when she heard his voice. Somehow Cale had sneaked up on her without Rachael realising, and she scolded herself for it. What if he had come to finish her off? What if he had decided that she was no use to them after all since she had disagreed with their plan, and could not be allowed to live because she knew too much?

  She had been more careful, once. He should not have been able to surprise her like this.

  “I didn't know you were there.”

  A small smile played on his lips. “Is it okay if I sit?” He nodded to a patch of white grass next to her. The winter sun was gaining in strength but it would be another few weeks yet before the snow began to melt.

  Certain that he was going to sit down regardless of her answer, she nodded.

  With a grateful expression, he sat down next to her as gently and carefully as she had extended her hand to the rabbits not long ago. They had bolted at the gesture, and she was very tempted to do the same thing. However, unlike the rabbits, she had nowhere to run to, no underground barrow where her family was waiting, no secret hideout only she knew off.

  “I'm sorry, I should have said something. I wasn't there for long, I promise.” His eyes were desperate and pleading with her but his promise meant nothing to her. They could still kill her and Cephy. Lure them in first, then strike when they least expected it. She had seen it happen many times in Blackrock's more corrupt corners. Cephy had let her guard down and even liked the two men. Rachael herself had been too lost in thought to hear Cale approach.

  All they had to do was strike if she didn't pay more attention.

  When they moved in for the kill she wouldn't be easy prey. She refused to be another mouse caught in the cat's claw.

  “How did you sneak up on me? No one has ever-” She had not meant to say the words but they were out before she could help it.

  “Arlo taught me from a young age. He knew my parents, but you'd think he's known this place even longer. He's a big guy but he can move as silently as a deer through the shrubs if
he wants to.”

  An uncomfortable silence settled between them. Rachael wanted to say something but didn't know what. He already knew her opinion on their plan and she was not about to tell him that yes, they did have a point. She was not sure if she was ready to confess that truth to herself yet.

  Finally, Cale broke the silence.

  “I grew up in a small farm town on the other end of Rifarne. My parents were farmers, my sister is two years younger than me. Only Ailis has inherited their gift, but my mother's grandfather was a great wizard. Four times a year Arlo would visit my parents. They were great at growing crops but they loved to eat meat, too. Red meat in particular was expensive back then, and they could never save enough money to buy it for us. Arlo has been a hunter since he was ten, and brought them deer, pigs and other meats for a much smaller fee then the local merchants offered. That's how I met Arlo. Barnaby was a present from him, later.

  “One summer some men came. I remember their approach to our farm. They came on black horses, in black armour, waving a flag as red as blood behind them as they rode up to our house, burning my parents' crops as they went. They were the most terrifying thing I had ever seen. I thought death had come for us. Was right, too. Our mother told me to take my sister and run. Dad held the back door open so we could slip out undetected. I'd never run so hard in my life, but I have done many times since then.”

  “Who were they?”

  “They were from Tramura, to the North. My mother wasn't from here, she was born past the Boneanvil Mountains. I hear it's a small place, but a little bigger than Rifarne. I've never been. Magic is outlawed there, always has been. Apparently her grandfather was murdered for it there, but she had managed to escape in a similar way to how we managed to escape when the same men came for her.”

  “But I thought your parents were farmers. Did anyone here know they had magic?”

  A sad smile spread across his face. Rachael thought she saw a tear glistening in his right eye, but maybe it was just the sun playing a trick on her. “No. To keep us safe, they stuck to farming and didn't tell anyone about their gift or her heritage. But she was related by blood to her grandfather, and that was enough. Everyone with magic has to die under their rule, even if there's only a slim chance of it being passed on again. My parents were farmers, and never hurt anyone. But they came for them anyway. They fear magic that much that they didn't want to take the chance. I hid in the forest, trying to keep Ailis from crying. I knew the general direction Arlo usually came from and thought it best to wait for him. By the time he visited us again our parents had been dead for weeks, and we were weak. We weren't sure which berries were safe to eat, and only drank the water from puddles when it rained. We were sick for a while but Arlo took us in and helped us. We moved out once I was old enough to swing a sword and build a small house outside the White City.”