Markus removed another two knives from the leather strap at his chest. He extended his hand mightily. From its certainty, his prey was decided. In the light, silver streaks seemed to speed from his palms.
Loud cries filled the air. Two men launched backward before impacting mercilessly into the earth.
Olivia pointed to the sky with a warning word. “Reinforcements!”
Shadows fell over the gardens. From the heart of their darkness, shimmering figures descended to land in the midst of the bloody tempest.
Aurea's eyes widened. She stared out from behind the shoulders of her warriors. She could see the women in silver armor and flowing white skirts. Immediately, she recognized the captivating woman who had permitted their entrance into the city the evening before.
Galen clutched more fiercely to his staff. He surveyed the odds with a dire sense of foreboding overtaking him. “We are overwhelmed,” he said for only his siblings to hear.
“Then we will die protecting our Queen,” Olivia uttered with conviction.
In that moment, the mighty female warriors advanced. They burst through the heart of the royal knight's defenses, leaving Aurea exposed.
Aurea was backed into a corner. She held her breath fearfully as she watched everything around her slow painfully.
The Queen could clearly see her knights taking on two and three warriors at a time. They had been forced to spread out, leaving them weakened. Through their once strong line, she witnessed the almost seductive way in which the woman in white seemed to saunter through the forced opening. Aurea’s eyes followed the rise of a silver trident as it prepared to give a fatal blow. In the sunlight, it was blinding. It was the brilliant lightning bolt from the hand of God, meant to strike her down. As it began its descent, Aurea closed her eyes, unable to see the end coming for her.
Silence reigned. It was unnatural. It was as if reality, itself, feared to live aloud.
Unable to stand the heavy quiet any longer, Aurea tentatively opened her eyes. She saw the world around her from beneath the prominent shade of another's body. With trembling hands, her fingertips reached out to caress the back she saw taut with strength and a determination to protect her. Though the wings she had witnessed the night of their first meeting had long since gone, she thought she glimpsed their shadow falling over her in an effort to shield her from the battle.
Autumn held her ground firmly between the warrior and the Queen. She felt three sharp points piercing through her left shoulder. Their stinging kiss had been diverted from their original intent by the sword she had managed to raise in time. Her blade was locked angrily against the forked-weapon. Her eyes were a storm of gray, misted by rage's rains.
The Guardian gasped in horror. Her eyes were wide at the sight of blood. “My Lady,” she rasped. “I would never----” She lowered her weapon, feeling sick.
Autumn groaned as the serrated ends of the blades begrudgingly left her body. They were stained bright red. She reached upward to clutch her injured shoulder as the others ceased all movement.
Aurea felt tears stream down her face in time with the red tears flowing down her love's back.
“Zahara,” Autumn breathed. Her eyes cast a spell upon the warrior in white.
The woman found herself slipping into the depths of Autumn's eyes.
“Forgive me.”
Features contorted beneath the skillful hand of rage. Autumn thrust her foot forward with such brutal might that Zahara took flight.
Zahara was cast backward. Her body bowed as her weapon slipped from her hands.
Autumn caught the trident before the woman had even hit the ground.
The ribbon romantically embracing the hair of a hopeful bride-to-be fell in tandem with the motionless Guardian. Hair hung wildly around her passionate face. Autumn was the breathtaking image of death when it comes swiftly to this world. “Knights,” she roared, “to me!”
The knights rallied readily around their Queen. They stood arm in arm with a burning-eyed daughter of Angels.
Autumn's choice was made.
They had only just completed their line when the guards and their much-needed reinforcements advanced.
“Protect the Queen!”
For all Autumn's attempts at nonlethal force, she acted with such cool precision that she might have been the night-stalker. She was the lethal mist to swarm across the land before gripping souls with an icy hand only to whisk them away to the Underworld.
Aurea could not look away. In her wife-to-be, she recognized fires to rival any Dragon Child. Autumn was each quality Aurea had found within her knights individually. However, in Autumn those solitary traits had been combined into one person. Much to the delight of her ambitious dreaming, this person would be the person Aurea would have at her side forever. Invincibility melted sweetly against her tongue.
A hard brush at her side sent long waves of brown fanning outward. Autumn sharply turned her head to see that Angelos IV had moved to take a position at her side. She gave him a curt nod before returning her attention to the fight.
Finally spotting a way out, Aurea touched her palm to Autumn's back.
Of one mind, Autumn did not turn to see what Aurea had found. She knew the exact layout of the gardens perhaps better than most. This was Aurea's chance. “Go!” she commanded.
The royal force slipped out with their Queen while Autumn held her father's men at bay.
Slowly, Autumn began inching backward. Her eyes observed each movement made by the guards. With a seasoned eye, she gaged which warrior would be the first to act or perhaps which would be the first to lose his nerve. She needed a means of retreat, one that would give her a bit of time while granting Aurea all the time she could afford.
Autumn caught the flickering light of a pyre to her right.
“She's gone now. There is no more reason for us to fight,” Angelos III said. His eyes implored his daughter to consider what she was doing. “Just let her go.”
Having heard her father's words, the sadness in his voice, Autumn hung her head sadly.
Angelos III took a deep breath, relieved that this senseless fighting could end. Something inside him twisted violently at the thought of his soldiers taking up arms against his own children. This was madness and Aurea had birthed it.
The brunette reached out and grabbed the pyre by its base. She jerked with all her might.
Alive by the sudden adrenaline-infused burst of air, the pyre spiked as it was sent crashing savagely against the ground. Its fire caught wildly. The flames rose higher, fanned by the once enchanted breezes.
With the fires dancing zealously inside her eyes, Autumn shot her father a warning look. Her eyes said, “Do not follow” but her lips only parted in a passionate pant for air. She turned, spiriting from the gardens. In her eyes, her prayers were clearly read.
Flee, my Love. Flee but know that wherever you run to, I am coming to join you.
In the chaos of the flames, the High Lord gave a snarled command. “Keep them apart!” he said. The vision granted to him by the Oracle sent a frightening chill throughout his entire being. “Whatever happens, Autumn must not reunite with them!”
********
The Knights were charging forward on the backs of their horses and the gales of a prayer. They rode hard, knowing that any moment the Guardians of Angels could swoop down on them. The Guardians' transports were the fastest in the land. It would be no trouble at all for the Guardians to overtake them. Why hadn't they? Their only hope was to avoid detection and somehow steal across the borders.
Aurea spurred her horse onward, increasing their gate to a near neck-breaking sprint. Her eyes watered with the might of the wind to others, but she knew the truth. No wind could inspire the tears which were fighting to be unleashed. What had she done? She had made a horrible mistake. She had alienated the Province of Angels during her first official visit to its lands. She had made a sworn enemy of its High Lord, the man who had served as a valuable General to the royal house for decades
, but more than this, she had left without Autumn!
Her heart ached. She was not fooled as the others were. She knew precisely why the Guardians had not found them. It was because their fleeing entourage was of secondary importance. Right now as she and her men rode for their lives, the Guardians and as many royal guards as Angelos could spare were flocking after Autumn. They were trying to find her before she found Aurea's party.
The Queen released a strangled cry in lament for her lost love. She veered sharply to the right nearly losing her entourage.
“The caves,” she reminded herself. “Get to the caves in the forest.” As her comrades struggled to keep up, she sentenced them to damnation if it meant that they would slow her pace. She had plans of her own. She pressed her horse harder, thundering toward a prayer.
********
Autumn ran as fast as her legs would carry her. Each step sent an electric pain coursing through her shoulder. She flinched hard, pushing past the burning of her lungs or the excruciating stinging of her wounds. She had to get to the highest point of the valley. She had to get to the Oracle's dais.
At her back, she could hear the desperate footfalls of her father's men. She had outsmarted them by taking paths too densely populated with trees for horses. They had been forced to pursue by foot. Her head-start had provided her a slight advantage but that was waning. They would catch her soon if she could not hold out. They were already gaining on her. The only thing she had going in her favor was that she knew this land better than her father's men.
Autumn felt her stomach rumble with what felt like fluttering bats. She knew that the woods would soon begin to thin. As she continued onward, the density lessened until it died to nothing.
The woods had ended. In their absence, the world opened up to the tall-grasses of a small field. She scurried across it, a ghost among the reeds. She had to be careful. If she didn't make it to the trees across the field, a transport would surely swoop down to claim her. That fear caused her to drop down into the thick shroud of swaying gold.
In the distance, she could hear the guards’ voices.
“Where are you, my Lady?” they called.
A guard raised his scythe. He swiped it across the horizon, cutting down a row of tall grass.
“What are you doing, you fool,” another guard cried. “You could hurt Lady Autumn!”
“We have to flush her out,” the other guard protested. He muttered beneath his breath, “Pity we didn't have time to retrieve the hounds. They could have found her in all this.”
The other guard sighed. The hounds would have been a wonderful help, but it was too late for that. “Fan out,” he ordered. “We'll wade through the field ourselves.” His eyes narrowed on the guard still using the blade of his scythe to clear a path through the field. “Use the flat of your weapons to sift through the reeds. We don't want to injure Lady Autumn.”
Cast as a searching net throughout the tall grasses, the guards began their attempt to draw in on the young woman.
Autumn crawled with her belly against the earth. She was careful ---oh so very careful---- not to rustle the reeds. She had faintly heard their comments regarding her father's hounds. Tearfully, she did not dare to breathe her gratitude for their absence. They were among her father's prized possessions. Their skill was well-fabled and as she crawled with a pain coursing throughout her body, she knew that her blood would have surely given her away.
When she had nearly reached the forest's edge, she scrambled to her feet.
“There!” a guard shouted.
Autumn exploded into the trees. She disappeared into the woods with only a gaping wound in the brush to show that she had come and gone.
A massive owl dropped its mistress into the tall grasses. Crossing the last of the field, Zahara stopped breathlessly. Her eyes scoured the visible beginnings of the forest but saw nothing. She lowered her eyes to see where Autumn had made her entrance into the dense wood. The crimson painting the leaves made her blanch beneath her helmet.
Autumn appeared to be moving with a purpose, but what was it?
“Where are you going, Autumn?” Zahara wondered aloud. She motioned the High Lord's guards forward.
As the men vanished into the darkness of the forest, her warriors drew closer to her.
Collectively, the women lifted their heads. They saw beyond what was directly before them. They saw with the eyes of the animals they rode, able to witness a much grander picture.
Just beyond the wood's borders, a high peak loomed in mythical glory. The Oracle's home sent its long shadow over the land.
“She's trying to get to higher ground,” Zahara gasped.
The Guardians summoned their transports with a shrill whistle.
Immediately, the massive animals answered the call. They glided swiftly toward them, traveling over the earth like soundless shadows.
********
Winds wailed bitterly around her. Autumn was whipped by them, but she did not stop. She climbed the stone steps just as her father had done the night before. The bitter difference between them was that Autumn felt as though she was running for her life where as her father appeared to be running from it. When at last she reached the summit, her legs shook with fatigue. She was mere moments from collapse.
Autumn scoured the horizon. She could see everything. That is, she could see everything, but the Oracle. She had known that she would not be there, but a small part of her had still hoped for it.
Even in the Oracle's absence, Autumn knew what she would have asked her. She would have asked what was so horrible about her love with Aurea that so many were willing to fight to keep them apart.
Clutching her shoulder, she staggered forward.
She realized then that the answer to her question did not really matter. As long as there were people willing to fight to keep them apart, Autumn would fight to keep them together. This was the promise she had made to herself.
She heard footsteps growing louder against the stone steps. They were growing closer. She held her shoulder a little tighter, her stance straightening. She could also hear the cries of raptors drawing closer. That could only mean that the Guardians would be arriving at any moment.
Her father's men reached the top of the carved mountain. They stood breathlessly within the circle, beneath the shadows of proud stone archways.
Autumn felt the sudden cold of the wind against the blood lining her clothes. It was a contradicting chill to the fiery heat of the essence which originated from three misleadingly small points. The beautiful blue of her dress was gone. It was now a myriad of colors: first blue, next a haunted sort of twilight then a red so deep it appeared black. The colors were startling against blanching skin.
“Please, Lady Autumn,” a guard pleaded. He took a single step forward, imploring her with his eyes. “Return to the castle with us. Let us help you.”
Autumn shook her head slowly. She was beginning to sway slightly. She closed her eyes tightly in an effort to concentrate on their voices, but her focus was waning along with her strength. The winds answered her earnest attempt to listen by howling more prominently within her ears.
Soft scrapes echoed throughout the air. It was the sound of her sandaled feet inching backward against the stones.
The guards cried out in panic. “Stop!”
Autumn's eyes flashed open with a jolt of her body as she jerked to attention. She looked groggy and weak.
It was a name which echoed repeatedly throughout this holy place. Lady Autumn. She suddenly heard it almost as loudly as the winds.
The storm of warring eyes closed again in exhaustion. Autumn dropped her sword with a resonating clang.
The guards breathed deeply. It was over.
Autumn lightly pushed off the sacred alter, taking a tranquil step into nothingness. She no longer heard the pleaded incarnations of her name. She heard only distant screams that quickly fell away as she dropped rapidly.
The wind clapped in her hair, in her dress. It sang in uniso
n with her thundering heart. The cries of eagles made her eyes flutter open. Around her in a death dive, she saw two enormous white birds. Each carried women who extended their hands to save her before they all died in this morbid spiraling dance.
If it is true that in times of crisis our true nature is revealed within the choices we make, then Autumn’s true form was making itself known by the intensity of pure instinct.
As Autumn plummeted to her death, she recognized the faces of two women she loved and in so doing, two distinctive choices.
Zahara was beauty and grace. The leader of the enigmatic Guardians was the regal legacy of a people, Autumn's people. In recent years, Autumn had looked to her and seen the marvelous splendors which had once belonged to her mother, Queen Thalia. She had seen these things and longed to be them as Zahara had come to personify them. Zahara embodied their ancient strengths and their cherished tie to the stars. She had come to be everything Autumn had always wished to be.
Zahara's hand extended pleadingly. Her lithe fingers splayed frantically to catch the fallen angel. Desperate cries ripped from her throat to slip past the only part of her face. In its sound lived the absolute fear for her land's cherished princess.
Queen Aurea was radiant like the eternal flame of Pyros. Her cape billowed with all the might of the Dragon's wings. She promised forever with not the beauty of her words, but the timeless captivation of her eyes. As her hand extended desperately, her fingertips grazed Autumn's in a torturous tease.
As three women fell in death's spiral, Aurea screamed. It was her voice which ensnared Autumn not her grasp. It was a scream of pure vulnerability, of heartfelt anguish at the thought of losing the falling brunette.
Autumn woke from her weariness with a newfound determination for life. She possessively took hold of the wrist offered to her, pulling herself from the end's clutches.
Aurea encircled her arms around her just before she and Zahara were both forced to pull out of the spiral. Their raptors cut in two separate paths, narrowly averting death as they raced in opposite directions.
The Flame of Wrath Page 10