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

by Sarina Langer

“Two weeks? Why didn't you say anything?”

  “Why, because I needed to know that you were strong enough to be my student, of course! You remember the suffering your hands underwent before, I trust?”

  Cephy swallowed. She remembered all too clearly.

  “There will be worse in your future, if you come with me. I needed to know that you could take a bit of suffering before making my decision.”

  Cephy felt the colour drain from her face. Aeron intended to do worse to her body? And she was going to let her?

  She clenched her hands in defiance. Yes, she was. If it meant learning to control her gift fully and being of help in this war, to Rachael, then she would bear any pain necessary.

  “And what have you decided?” asked Cephy.

  A terrible smile extinguished what little light there had been in Aeron's eyes. “My, haven't you grown since the day you left my home! You have become feisty in my absence. I shall need to teach you respect, my Fox.”

  Despite her shaking legs, Cephy stood her ground, determined not to be intimidated. She needed to do this if she wanted to be useful to Rachael and Cale and Ailis and Arlo. Aeron couldn't see how terrified she was.

  Aeron laughed. “You have grown quite a bit, it would seem! My decision is to take you with me. I will teach you to control your gift, and use it as I see fit.”

  Relieved, Cephy straightened and nodded. Maybe, when this was all over, Arlo could fix her no doubt broken body once more—if Aeron didn't intend on breaking it beyond his abilities this time.

  “Thank you.”

  The smile on the Mist Woman's face would have been pretty on anyone else. On her, it simply made her look like the Dark One's bride come to play with her soul.

  “Now, it is late and we cannot waste time. Grab your things, and we shall be off.”

  Stopping her protests before they could slip out Cephy took hold of her small bag, and walked over to Aeron.

  Everything around Rachael was on fire. The hot sizzling of the flames devouring everything in their path did nothing to drown the screams of the injured. Rachael herself had hurt her leg in the fall. Careful not to make it worse she got up, putting as much weight on the bone as she could bear. She could stand, even if the pain sent white hot aches throughout her leg and up her body. At least it didn’t seem to be broken.

  Relieved at the small victory, her eyes quickly searched the area. She couldn’t see anyone past the flames, never mind within their vicious circle. How was she supposed to get out now? If she so much as touched the fire she would burn to ashes, she was sure of it.

  Looking around for something she might be able to use, she found nothing. There was no sign of Cale anywhere, either, or of any of the other Sparrows. She was completely cut off from the rest.

  “How does it feel to be helpless?”

  The sudden shock of hearing that voice again was almost too much to handle, and stung more than the pain in her leg. Struck where she stood she could do nothing but stare at the small figure in front of her. After all this time—she hadn’t changed a bit, apart from the light in her eyes. The light in her eyes had taken on a vicious gleam.

  The Prophecy had been correct.

  “What do you—” Before Rachael could finish her question, a deadly ball of fire sped past her ear. She was certain that the flesh was singed, but didn’t dare feel it. This was not the time to mourn small incidents. Not when she was here, attacking her.

  Another fireball came her way and this time Rachael had to jump out of its way to dodge its danger.

  “I asked you a question!”

  Rachael had no answer. If it weren't for the evidence she could see so clearly she wouldn’t have believed it to be the same girl. How could it be? She looked the same, but she sounded like Aeron. As much as it stung to even think as much, she emanated a similar aura of evil, too.

  “What happened to you?” It was all Rachael could ask before another fireball barely missed her. Just how was she supposed to win this? She had no control over her magic, and if she did it would be useless against something like this. Against someone like her.

  A hungry ring of fire flared up around her, making escape impossible. Briefly it opened to allow her entrance, and then it closed behind her. There was no way to escape now. There was no magic in the world that could save her from this madness.

  “And how does it feel to know that you're about to die?”

  “Stop it! Please.” She knew there was no point. Best to say the one thing she had been dying to say ever since her old friend had left Cale's house. “Cephy. I'm sorry.”

  Bathed in sweat Rachael sat up, grabbing for something to hold on to but only finding the soft fabric of her blanket. She needed something else, something firm, something she knew could steady her while she calmed down. Her heart was racing, her breathing came too fast as sweat trickled down her temples on to her neck.

  This wasn't the incomprehensible swirl of colourful fog and muted voices she had experienced before. This time there was no doubt.

  She shook her head, clutching her forehead with her free hand. She wouldn’t accept this as another vision. Her visions had always been clear, but this was something else. It had felt real. The unforgiving heat of the fire had felt real. Cephy’s merciless glare had been real.

  It had been a nightmare, nothing more. She'd been worried for Cephy ever since the girl went missing, and she'd felt inferior because Cephy could control her magic while she still couldn’t even sense a hint at its whereabouts. This was simply another nightmare bred from fear and insecurity. Nothing more. No vision.

  She gave herself time to calm down, sitting on her bed unmoving. Once her heart was beating normally again she got up, and put on a jacket she had been working on with Ailis. Ailis was far better at knitting than Rachael and she wasn’t sure she really wanted to learn the craft, but Ailis had insisted on making her something to keep her warm. Rachael often felt cold at night. Ailis had made her the jacket to wear when she was freezing, when the cover of her bed wasn’t enough.

  Grateful for the bit of normality she sat back down on her bed, too alert to go back to sleep. Since breaking down in front of Cale she had decided to get her act together. His words had comforted her in a way that no one else's words had been able to do, and she wanted to at least try. She no longer felt bad for not being able to reach the source of her magic, either. If Cale said that he believed in her even when she didn’t, then she could believe at least that much. Maker forbid, but she believed him.

  She even wanted to trust him, but he'd been more reserved since their conversation. During the day he often went into the White City, either for meetings with the Sparrows, to get supplies or sometimes for raids on the prison. After the last raid a week ago he'd come back so bloodied she and Ailis had feared for his life, but he'd cleaned up quickly and Ailis had bandaged his cuts. She'd put him on bed rest for the remainder of the night, but he was up and training again come morning.

  She'd asked him several times whether she could come with him into the city, be it for meetings or buying food, but he insisted it was too dangerous. Security had increased, he'd told her, and they weren't willing to risk Rachael's life just because she wanted a change of scenery. Hurt by his words, she'd finally let him withdraw from her and had joined Ailis more often. She helped with the cooking, the cleaning and tidying, and sometimes the knitting. She wasn't any good at those, and even though Ailis kept her busy, she felt like she wasn’t doing anything. There was a war brewing—a war Cale had made sure she understood only she could win—and here she was, knitting jackets and boiling potatoes.

  With a heavy sigh she settled back into her bed, knowing she wouldn’t sleep again for hours if at all. The lingering terror of her nightmare had left her, but her mind was too awake to fall back asleep any time soon.

  A faint sound from downstairs startled her and had her sitting back up within moments. It sounded like someone was panting, breathing heavily under great effort, and every now and again
the numb thud of something heavy hitting something else mixed in, too. Terrified that a burglar had found their house and broken in, she hugged herself. What should she do? Ailis slept downstairs—she wouldn’t be able to sneak past someone to get to her and warn her.

  There was a ledge under her window, but from there she'd have to jump. If she could get around the house and knock on Ailis' window to wake her—if she could get to her in time—they could stop the robbers.

  Determined to help, Rachael pushed her window wide open and stuck her head out to inspect the fall. The panting and the thuds got louder. She halted, not daring to breath.

  In the silence she realised that the sounds weren’t coming from inside the house. They were coming from outside, behind the house. Relief washed over. It must have been Cale, training even at this hour. It was dark outside, the thick trees blocking out most of the moonlight, but he had been more determined after the last raid. She relaxed, sinking back onto her bed, grateful that it was nothing as dangerous as a thief breaking into their home after all.

  An idea struck her. She wasn't any good with her magic, not even her visions were reliable any more, but maybe there was something she could do. Pulling the jacket tightly around her and making sure she was dressed, she slid out of her room and hurried downstairs without making any noise. She didn’t want to give Ailis a fright the way Cale had scared her only moments ago. Careful not to make a sound, she slowly opened the front door and shut it behind her as quietly as possible. It wasn’t until her feet touched the smooth, cold grass that she realised she hadn’t put on any shoes in her excitement. Too nervous to turn around now, she walked behind the house.

  Cale wielded a heavy two-handed sword which looked too big for him but which he nonetheless swung around with ease. She hadn’t watched him train before, but seeing him now she could see why he had the White Guard on their toes. He was a natural, making what he did look simple. Even in the dim light of an oil lamp she could see that the sword was intricately decorated down the middle, but she could not get a clear enough view to see what it said—if it said anything. For all she knew, they were just meaningless symbols, created on the artist's whim.

  Her heart pounded painfully as she stepped closer and cleared her throat loud enough for Cale to hear. He misstepped and missed his target, stumbling over his own feet but catching himself just before he would have fallen over.

  Mortified that he had nearly impaled himself because of her, her voice caught in her throat.

  “Rachael! What are you doing out here at this hour?”

  “I couldn't sleep and heard you out here, so I thought—I'm sorry I made you jump! I didn't mean for you to—”

  To her surprise, Cale laughed. “You think that made me jump? All the men of the White Guard couldn't sneak up on me, Rachael, you've got nothing to apologise for.”

  “But I saw you step over your own feet. You nearly fell.”

  Even in the faint light, she saw him blush and look flustered. “You caught me unaware, is all.”

  Smiling at his admission she walked up to him. He was out of breath and covered in sweat, but he didn’t look tired. How long had he been out here for? Earlier, in the late afternoon, he'd returned from the marketplace outside the city gates with fresh fish and some spices Ailis had asked for. He had withdrawn back here almost right away, but surely he had not been here this whole time? It was only yesterday that Ailis had treated his wounds, and he still wore the bandages now. Some of them looked lose from the training, some of them even had blood stains seeping through, but Rachael had a feeling that he had been out here this whole time regardless. If he were capable of this much effort in his injured state, she could see why King Aeric was getting worried.

  “Bad dreams?”

  Embarrassed, she nodded. He didn’t know the half of it.

  “I'll ask Ailis in the morning to make you a tea to help you sleep. That should—”

  She shook her head. Her visions were finally returning. As much as she had hated them before, she couldn’t deny that they had saved her life a number of times. They were the one thing she could do with her gift, even if she couldn’t control them. The effects of Aeron's tea had taken a long time to clear up. She didn’t want to risk losing her visions again because of some stupid nightmare.

  “It's fine.”

  Cale nodded, leaning on to his large sword. “Why did you come out here? Needed some fresh air?”

  “I was hoping...” For a moment she considered backing out, but changed her mind. Her magic would be useless in the war. She might not be able to learn enough in time, but at least she would be doing something. “I want you to train me. I want to be able to defend myself when we attack.”

  Cale stared at her, eyes wide. “You want me to teach you how to use a sword?”

  Determined not to back down now, she nodded.

  “I understand your reasoning—I'm all for you knowing how to defend yourself—but this isn't something you can learn in one night. We might have to move out in one month, or next week or maybe even tomorrow. You won't—”

  “I know, but I'm sick of just sitting inside doing nothing. I'm your Sparrow, aren't I? The one all of you place so much faith in? Let me do something, Cale. Let me feel like I'm doing something to help you win this war.”

  He looked her up and down, meeting her eyes last. Aware that he was testing her resolve, she didn’t dare blink even when her eyes began to hurt.

  Finally, he nodded. “Okay. I don't have any good swords here right now, but you can try this dagger here. Tomorrow we can go into town together and find you a sword.”

  She found herself smiling honestly for the first time in months. Eager to get started she picked up the small weapon from the too-large weapon rack against the wall.

  An amused smile lit up Cale's eyes. “Not like that. Here, let me show you...” He took her hand into his, readjusting the dagger until her fingers were closed around it loosely but surely.

  “There, that's better. Try hitting the target like that.”

  She nodded, facing the stacked hay squares to their side, and lunged herself at them, burying the tip of the weapon inside the hay.

  “Not bad!” He looked serious, but a hint of his smile was still playing in his eyes when the light from the oil lamp caught in them at just the right angle. “Stand like this.” He put one foot in front of the other, his knees slightly bent, and waited for Rachael to copy him. “Good, now attack. Try not to move your entire body when you do—we can focus on that later.”

  She nodded, feeling the rush of adrenaline power through her Her heart was racing when the dagger once again pierced the hay, and it raced even faster when it earned her an approving nod from Cale.

  She was finally doing something. Even if they ran out of time before the attack hit the White City, she would know something. Knowing that she finally had a purpose again, a goal, was enough to keep her going until the sun rose above the trees.

  Chapter Thirty

  King Aeric had never regretted a decision as much as he regretted this one. Calling on a Mist Woman to aid him had been wrong, unforgivable, and he knew he would not live to tell his children about it—not that he had any. This war had kept him busy for a while now. There had been no time for such things as raising a family, or finding a suitable wife. It would give his people hope and return normality to his country once the war was over, but until then he had more urgent things to worry about.

  He paced around his throne room, unable to sit down. The Mist Woman was not in the room with him yet, but her presence nearby was enough to put him on edge.

  Clenching his fists in anger, he stopped. He knew everything that was going on in his kingdom. He was the king, after all. Knowing everything was his job, yet her... He knew nothing about her. He only knew what everyone seemed to know the moment they laid eyes on the woman. She meant trouble, and he had lost sleep wondering whether her help would be worth it. She was driven, and ambitious, and wanted to see this war end as much as
he did, that much he was sure of. The means by which she wished to achieve it—he wasn't at all certain about those.

  The uneasy feeling in his gut had not left him since their first meeting. She was full of ideas and had shared them without any convincing needed on his part. He'd to turn down many of them. He was against magic, yes, and he wanted this fight to come to an end, yes, but the things she was willing to do were unspeakable. They were still people—dangerous people, but even criminals were his subjects. He had to subdue them, but he could not bring himself to betray them in this fashion.

  They'd finally agreed—after many hours of arguing back and forth—to simply find out where the Sparrows were hiding, round them up and give them a choice. They could either live freely in exile, or they could be executed. Far to the south the heathens of Midoka or Krymistis would take them in, he was sure of it. Witches and sorcerers, the lot of them! Still, they'd left him and his kingdom alone. He knew when to be grateful.

  To his dismay, his commander himself had agreed with the vile woman. Commander Videl hated her as much as he respected his king, but when it came to eliminating the enemy, they saw eye to eye. She had a talent for cruel methods, and he was as set on revenge for his lost men as ever. King Aeric was sure that the commander was going insane with grief, but his old friend denied it whenever the topic came up.

  King Aeric sighed, sitting down in his throne. He could not remember the last time he had felt so exhausted. By now he was supposed to be married to a fine noble woman from Tramura or maybe Vistria, with a son on the way. This war had halted everything. As much as he hated to admit it, those Sparrows were resourceful. He needed her to find their location and bring them all before him so that he could finally do his job and judge them appropriately.

  Today was the day their strategy would be set in motion. Everything had been discussed. Their imminent meeting would move the players into position, and make the first move.

  Another week. Everything would be over after another week.