Cephy's face lit up, always so eager to please and do well. “A reward?”
“I shall let you kill Rachael. You will be the one to soak the streets with her blood. Let it run to the harbour, my Fox. Today is the day the old ways fall.”
A bright grin twisted with excitement spread on her pet's face. “I will, Aeron! I swear it, I will!”
“Then let us get to work. Keep an eye out for her while you're down there. She must not reach the King.” Aeron doubted Rachael would be capable of killing him, but she did not want to tempt fate. Best to keep Rachael far away from him.
Together they descended the stairs down the tower, and split at the base. Cephy had work to do, and so did Aeron.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The market was as hectic as ever. The recent suicides had put a new fear for magic into the people, but it wasn't about to stop them from going about their daily business. Their families still had to be fed and their children still needed to grow and their husbands still had to be satisfied – local tragedy or no, their lives continued.
While the people of the White City were as willing to spend their money as before, traders from other places hadn't returned after the suicides had continued. The unexplainable affliction had spread beyond the city walls, but the White City would always be where it had started. It had turned into a bad omen to travellers, a curse as sure to kill them as the pretty but worthless charms they bought were meant to protect them from harm. As a result, local stalls were busier than ever and made better coin than they had done before. Merchants ran out of wares sooner, and their customers left dissatisfied.
“Do you know where we're going?” Rachael asked as she tried to keep up with Arlo.
“Sure I do, lass! It's not the first time I've been to the palace. Besides, it's easy to spot from here. See that up there, lass?” Rachael followed where Arlo was pointing, and saw the large building tower over most of the city. Only one other structure stood higher, not far behind the palace. Looming over the White City, the prison cast an intimidating shadow over everything in its path. “That's where they'll be taking Cale, and that's where we're going.”
Rachael nodded, glad she had Arlo to guide her through this maze. Even from a distance she could tell that the palace was extravagant. It gave credit not only to the deposits of gold and chalk they had found, but also to their architect's skill. Centuries old, it still signified the wealth of Rifarne and was the first thing besides the prison approaching ships saw. It was beautiful as well as imposing, a promise and a warning to all who visited.
After leaving the market and turning into a smaller side road, it was easier to follow the large man ahead of her. Arlo was easy to spot in a crowd, but following him when there were so many people between them was no simple matter. In the emptier side roads, however, it was no issue at all.
The first explosion seemed to stop time. Everyone froze as a deafening blow tore through the city, and liquid flame as well as bricks and pieces of the building rained down amongst the busy buyers, setting fire to everything they hit and striking people down.
The ringing in her ears only lasted a second before everyone fell into a panic, pushing each other out of the way amidst screams for help and the crying of terrified children.
“Quickly, lass. In here.” Arlo pulled her into a small, dark alleyway before she had time to respond. The buildings to their sides stood so close to each other that nothing was likely to crash through. For the moment, they were as safe as anyone could be when their lives blew up around them.
A second explosion shook the city, farther away than the first one but no less deafening.
“What's happening?” Gripping the hilt of her sword, Rachael felt like nothing more than cornered prey.
Arlo cursed under his breath. “It's that blasted Mist Woman! The King has many faults, but he would never destroy his own city.”
“You mean Aeron?” If Aeron were really here they had lost. The way Cale and Arlo had spoken about her made it sound like she was the Dark One Himself given shape. How could they hope to fight an enemy like that?
Arlo nodded. “Listen to me, lass. I need to get Cale out of there but I need to keep you safe, too. You need to get to the King somehow, but it's too dangerous with Aeron running rampant. Stay here, and I will bring Cale. We can think of something.”
“I can't just-”
“I mean it, lass! Do not leave this spot! It's dark here, and the buildings are sturdy. A bit of stray flame won't get through these brick homes. Hide, and no one will see you. Aeron is going to die of old age before she finds you in here!”
Reluctant, Rachael nodded. She barely knew Arlo, but she knew him well enough to know that there was no arguing with him in a situation like this. He was a hunter by trade. Maybe even a warrior. If he told her to stay put she had no choice.
Not while he was still watching.
“There's a good lass.” Arlo gripped his heavy axe which had seen better days but which looked as sharp as the day he had first purchased the weapon. She didn't doubt for a second that its steel could cut through anything, be it flesh or metal or solid rocks. “I'll hurry, lass. Don't move unless the buildings come down around you.”
Again, Rachael nodded. Arlo sped off back into the chaos, and Rachael waited until her heart had beaten ten times.
Then, she drew her own sword and went into the opposite direction.
The distant rumble of something big tugged at the back of Ailis' mind. Something wasn't right. The taint was still in her. She was alive.
She frowned when she remembered. Cale had hit her over the head with a rock. It was his fault she hadn't succeeded. Rachael had done her best to stop her, too, but they didn't understand. She was evil, she was tainted, and there was no other way to get the touch of darkness out of her.
Desperate to get out of the ropes around her wrists she tugged at them, but they wouldn't budge. If only she could get to the kitchen, she could use a knife and open her wrists—but it was no use, the rope was too tight.
“Cale!” She thought she remembered Rachael leaning over her, telling her it would be all right, and leaving. Had they both gone? This was the best chance she would get, she had to act while she was alone, but she couldn't do anything while she was tied up like this.
Quickly, she rubbed her wrists against the rough ropes. If only she could burn through her skin and cut her veins that way, she'd be able to drain the evil stench out of her.
But she couldn't. The ropes were on too tight and there wasn't enough room for her to move. She wouldn't be able to die this way, but she had to do something. Cale had done a great job of securing her in place. Unless he came back and cut her free... But he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't understand.
Ailis looked around frantically, trying to find something she could use, something sharp, but she found nothing. Her entire room looked like it had been cleared out.
She sighed, and sagged back into herself against the bed frame. She had no choice but to wait until Cale and Rachael returned. Maybe then, if she could convince them that she was fine, they'd release her and she could finally do the only thing that mattered.
She paused when she heard something—shouting, someone giving orders. It wasn't Cale or Rachael, but the voice was familiar.
Relieved tears ran down her cheeks when she realised who it was. Now all she needed to do was play her part well, and she'd finally be able to join the Maker at his side.
Kiana ran as fast as she could. Trust the city guard to just walk in and blow up their hideout. She had only just managed to escape, but running when you really wanted to teach someone manners wasn't easy. The whole building had gone up in flames, last she had seen it. Maybe she'd be lucky and the guards had been caught in them, too. Served them right, for barging in and killing her family.
Someone had tipped off King Aeric, and he had sent an impressive amount of White Guards to clear out their shelter. She had never had this many soldiers come after her at once! If this had h
appened on any other day she'd have been flattered. Most Sparrows lay slaughtered inside the old house, but some had managed to escape, if barely. Good looks wouldn't make up for what they had done.
Besides her, only Riane, Lon and Oren had made it out alive. Lon had a nasty gash around his leg and was losing blood fast, but he had insisted on coming along. Silly man. He had always been persistent. She had been against him tagging along, but this was no time to argue. Besides, with the White Guard searching for them and the city itself burning, on the run was as safe as they were going to get. It would be safer to keep moving than to sit and wait to be found.
Cale's cabin wouldn't be safe for much longer, either. Inside the city walls, explosions shook the ground, and she had overheard several guards talking about Cale's imminent capture. Wherever he was, Rachael wouldn't be far behind. They couldn't afford to lose either, not now that the fight had begun in earnest.
“Riane! Stay here with Lon, we can go in alone.”
“But—”
“Not now, Riane! We'll get Cale, Ailis and Rachael and then we can get to the next shelter, but we need you both well enough to run. Bandage his wounds as much as you can. I won't be long, I promise.” Several months ago Cale had named her his second in command. The other Sparrows had agreed that she was the best option, but it took them a while to take orders from her rather than him. Something about her being less imposing. They weren't seasoned soldiers like the White Guard. They were farmers, tailors and blacksmiths, some of them had been homeless like Rachael had been. None of them should have to take orders from anyone, least of all to fight for their lives because of how they had been born.
Without another complaint, Riane and Lon stayed behind and began to look after the wound right away. Oren was right behind her, ready to take down any guards who might jump into their way. He was more likely to fall over his own two feet, but she'd look after the big idiot. Most of his bruises were self-inflicted from running into corners, but he did know his way around a man's vital organs.
The forest around them was too quiet. She had only been to the cabin a small number of times and had been raised inside the city itself, but she knew what a forest was supposed to sound like. Critters and birds should have been everywhere, but instead there was no sound coming from their surroundings.
“Cale! Ailis!” The front door stood wide open, and even from this distance she could tell that a vase had been smashed on the ground by the door.
They were too late. Maker be screwed.
She came to a stop inside the front door. Oren nearly crashed into her but caught himself just in time.
“Search the upstairs. Maybe Rachael managed to hide.”
The ground floor looked like a small battle field in itself. Drawers had been emptied on to the floor, the table cloth Ailis had hand-made with such care had been torn into two, and the water from the smashed vase had left a sad puddle on the floor.
“Maker, let them be alive. Please be alive, or I swear I'll make you regret the day you let them die.” She had no idea how they could win this war without Cale or Rachael. Ailis was no fighter herself but she had saved their lives more often than she cared to remember. Her healing magic would be vital once this was all over – but it would all be nothing but day dreams if the White Guard had gotten to them.
Low groaning came from the room next to her.
Relieved that someone was alive, Kiana ripped the door open and froze in shock.
Ailis was alive, but a huge bruise was forming on her forehead and she was tied to the bed. Her wrists looked sore, like she had been dragged through the forest by the rope. Small slivers of blood trickled down her hands but she was alive. Kiana knew when to be grateful. Maybe she'd been too hard on the Maker before.
“Goodness, Ailis, what happened here?” Not wanting to waste more time she cut Ailis free.
“A White Guard tied me up. He took Cale into the forest. I think he's going to kill him.” Her voice was weak from her struggle, but Maker be praised, she was alive.
“Wait here. I'll look for him. Where is Rachael?”
“Another guard took her. He's taking her to the king.”
“Maker—I'm glad we managed to save you, at least. Rest here, we'll find them.” A weak smile graced Ailis' lips.
“Please hurry.”
“We will. Oren!” His footsteps thundered down the staircase in response.
“Ailis! Maker, what happened?”
“I'll explain later. A White Guard has taken Cale into the forest for execution. Another has Rachael, they are headed to the palace. I'm going after Cale before it's too late, and I need you to go after Rachael. We can't lose her. You understand?”
He nodded. “I do. Don't worry, Kiana, he won't get far.”
“I promise we'll save them, Ailis. Stay here, I'll be back as soon as I can, with Cale.” Their leader's sister only smiled in response, urging her to leave and find her brother.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Arlo sped through the masses, aware of every last movement and shape around him. Several guards had tried to stop him. Explaining what he needed to do—whom he had to save—would do no good, so he had cut them down before they had the opportunity to attack. They had never had a chance, and he hated himself for it. Battle was not supposed to be like this. It should be fair, a sport, both opponents standing a chance to win. War always brought out the worst in people.
Curse Aeron for plunging the world into this mess! He could not be sure it was her, but who else would do this? Who else was vile enough to set fire to an entire city—and what for? She was the most powerful, most dangerous Mist Woman in existence as far as he knew. If she wanted to kill Rachael she would have been able to do so easily. She hadn't needed to drag an entire city into this. Rachael would have been no match for her.
No, it was her doing. So was this affliction he had heard about, which had now befallen poor Ailis. Cale had done a good job tying her to the bed, but the stories he had heard didn't put his mind at ease. The sick developed incredible strength, capable of overpowering anyone who would stand in their way and obsessed with only one goal. He worried that a bit of rope—no matter how thick—wouldn't be enough to keep Ailis from hurting herself.
But he couldn't worry about it now. Right now he had more urgent things to fear for, like Cale's life or Rachael's. Blast that lad! Was he too stricken with the girl to think clearly? To allow himself to be captured just so she'd be save? What had he been thinking!
Arlo grunted. He knew exactly what Cale had been thinking, and it had nothing to do with caring too much for the girl. Not in that way, at least. She was their Sparrow, and he would protect her until the world itself crumbled at its core—which was what it seemed to be doing now, thanks to Aeron.
It wasn't sickness that caused people to jump from rooftops and impale themselves on swords. It was her doing—there was no other way around it. He could smell foul magic from ten miles away, and this had Aeron's stench all over it. If he should be so lucky to run into her he would gladly bury his axe in her skull. He would have searched for her, too, had he believed that he might stand a chance, but he knew he would be deluding himself. Aeron wasn't feared as the most powerful Mist Woman—a demon in disguise, the Dark One's whore—for nothing. No matter how much blood his axe had seen, it wouldn't be enough to slay that abomination.
There was no point in throwing his life away.
As easily as he navigated his forests Arlo turned from one street into the next, jumped over crates their owners had forgotten about in the madness, and felled guards when they tried to get in his way. The palace wasn't far now, and therefore neither was Cale. He couldn't afford to be stopped when the lad might already be in chains and screaming under their torture. The mere thought made his heart and insides clench. He'd known the lad since he was a wee boy. He hadn't let him down when his parents had been slaughtered, he hadn't let him down when he'd first thought of founding the Sparrows, and he wasn't about to let him down now! And if it c
ost him his own life, so be it—as long as Cale was safe first.
Behind him, he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps running after him. If he could give the White Guard credit for anything it was their persistence. It was a shame they fought to kill people like Rachael and Ailis. They would have made formidable allies.
With grim determination, Arlo continued on. The one behind him was slowly falling back, no match for Arlo's many years of experience of tracking the woods. He had enough stamina to put any horse to shame, and he was not going to stop until he saw Cale safe and far away from a King who appeared to have gone mad.
“Arlo! Will you stop already!” Staggered to hear his voice Arlo stopped, axe raised, ready to kill any guards on the lad's heels. Turning around he saw the lad struggling after him alone. No guards in sight.
“It's mighty good to see you, my boy! Why didn't you call out sooner?” No one could keep up with him for long. Cale must have been waiting somewhere nearby.
“I did.” Cale said, frowning. “You were so deep in thought you didn't hear me.” The men shook hands, relieved to see the other well and alive.
“What happened, lad? Rachael said you were being escorted by the Guard.”
“I was. Two of them came to the house, but only one went to bring me to the King. The other stayed behind to look for Rachael. Arlo, you mentioned her. Is she—”
“Aye, lad, she's save.” He could no longer tell if the lad was worried about her because she was the Sparrow, or because there were deeper feelings at play. “Save and defiant as ever! She's waiting in a dark alley for me to bring you back.” Glad to see Cale smile, he gave him that brief moment of relief before continuing. “Happy as I am to see you're safe, it doesn't explain what happened. Did they not search you before leaving your house?”
“They did.” Cale said, grinning that boyish grin of his. “But they only found my sword. They didn't think I'd have a dagger at my hip, too.”
Rise of the Sparrows (Relics of Ar'Zac #1) Page 23