by M. D. Laird
“Prophecies are ridiculous riddles that those who believe they are superior to others make up for their own amusement,” said Asmodeus his mouth twisting cruelly as he spoke. “Anyone could fit that prophecy.”
“So why was I chosen then,” she pleaded, “and what does everything with Calab mean?”
“It means nothing, little queen,” said Asmodeus, examining his claws. They flashed in the dim light—they looked impossibly sharp and deadly and made her gulp. “You were chosen because you fit the prophecy because the Procnatus lord and my prince did not know of anyone else. Your issues with the boy are nothing more than romantic dramas.”
“There has to be something,” she begged. “I’m lost, and I’m running out of time. Please, I’ll do anything. I’ll come here when I die, and you can chain me in eternal fire.”
“Oh dear.” Asmodeus laughed, and she felt a cold shiver run down her spine. “Aren’t we a dramatic little thing? All this courage and self-sacrifice turns my stomach. We are not accustomed to such displays here in Hell.”
“Is there anything you can tell me?” she said. He looked at her thoughtfully and gave her a wicked grin.
“The prophecy has not come to pass.”
“What do you mean? I thought you said it was nonsense.”
He chuckled loudly. “It is.”
“Nonsense? Does it mean something? Is it about someone else? Do I need to find someone else? Someone more worthy?” He shrugged. “Please,” she shouted. “Just help me. I know I’m not asking the right questions, but you know something—just tell me what it is.”
“I have never been spoken to like that,” said Asmodeus icily.
“I’m sorry,” she said, reining in her anger. “I am running out of time, and everyone I ask for help is speaking in riddles. I just need answers—ones that make sense. I want someone to tell me what the hell I’m supposed to do—no offence.”
Asmodeus rested his chin on the hand that was leaning on his giant marble throne. “If any of my demons spoke to me like that, they would be dragged screaming into my pit of penal fire,” he said calmly, but rage rippled through him. His expression contorted and mirrored the look Calab had given her on that fateful evening at his house—the expression that had filled her with terror and caused her to lose control of her bladder and her consciousness. She swallowed again but held her ground.
“I’m not a demon,” she said, holding her chin. “It is not my intention to disrespect you, but I need to save my people. I need to save Calab. I need to save them from death or from my enemy’s rule. If there is something I’m supposed to do, I need to know before it’s too late.”
He gave her an evil smile. “How brave you are, little queen,” he said slyly, looking at her curiously before continuing, “Prophecies are indeed written by self-absorbed braggarts, but if the conditions are right they can come to pass. You have fulfilled the prophecy enough to take the Crown, but the prophecy was not originally written for just the Crown—it was adapted from a much older prophecy, one that pre-dates any of your books.”
“Do you know what it is?”
“No,” he said, “only that you will know it if you are worthy.”
“That makes no sense. How could they adapt a prophecy that no one knows?”
“Perhaps the person who adapted it was worthy.”
“You mean they were the Crown?” He shrugged his shoulders. Eve sighed rubbing her face to stop her eyes and nose running from the sulphur. “Can you tell me anything about the magic they are using?” she asked. “Lady Ariana said it is ancient.”
“It isn’t theirs,” he said. “It belongs to someone else.”
“Who?”
“So many questions, little queen.” He chuckled menacingly. “How does the boy cope with you?”
“Please, High Prince. Who does it belong to?”
“That’s enough now.”
“I still don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” she pleaded.
“You need to go.”
“Please,” she begged. “If I visit the archangels could they help me?”
“I would urge you not to. They would not be nearly as welcoming as me, and they have a penchant for smiting people. Darkness may consume the shadows, but it is the light that creates them. Go now, little queen.”
Eve’s shoulders sagged. “Are you going to hold me to my word after I die?” she said sadly, knowing that she would be back in Hell in a matter of hours if he did.
He chuckled. “We have no claim on you, but if you’d like to come back and reign beside me, then you’re more than welcome. You grow accustomed to the smell.”
She smirked despite herself. “That depends on whether anything you have said helps me. Thank you, for not dragging me to your pits.”
“You must go now,” he said sternly. “Wake up.”
Eve woke with a jolt to find herself still sat on the floor of her library. Her neck ached as though she had been sat there for hours. Then she noticed how dark it was.
How can it be dark? It can only be four o’clock.
She looked at her watch and found it was two in the morning. She was stricken with panic.
Calab was in Hell for minutes. How have I been gone so long?
As she never got around to finding out what time dawn would be, she grabbed her armour, weapons, the letter from the Alchitch, and rushed to a vector.
Eve had plotted the coordinates and was speeding through the Arkazatinia before she dressed in her armour and sheathed her weapons. She tried to process what Asmodeus had said.
Has he told me anything useful?
There was another prophecy, and it was similar to the Crown prophecy. However, without knowing what it was, that information was not of much use to her. He had told her the magic was not theirs.
How does that help me?
Was he deliberately trying not to help her or was he helping her and she just did not see it? He had made sure she had left on time. There was nothing more she could do.
I’ll just have to wing it.
She begged whoever was listening, the games master who was moving their pieces or a fairy godmother to let her know what to do.
She caught a glimpse of her guards in the mirror of the vector and realised they would follow her right to the Alchitch. She cursed herself, stopped the vector, and summoned them to her. Her guards, an angel Kyriel and a demon Araziel were in front of her in seconds.
“You need to go,” she told them.
“We are tasked with protecting you, Your Majesty,” said Kyriel.
She shook her head. “You can’t protect me. No one can. The Alchitch have taken Calab, they have offered me a way to save him, and everyone else and I have to take it. They will kill you if you follow me. Please just go.”
“To face them is dangerous, Your Majesty,” said Kyriel. “We cannot allow you to do that.”
“No, you must,” she pleaded. “It is desperately important that you do not intervene—all Arkazatine lives depend on me going.”
“I’m afraid that it is against our orders to risk the life of the queen,” said Araziel. “You must speak with the alliance first.”
“There’s no time,” explained Eve. “Please just let me go.”
“No, Your Majesty,” said Kyriel. “You must go back.”
“Fine,” she snapped, stepping back into the vector. Kyriel and Araziel took to the air. Eve locked the door, pressed the continue button, and the vector began speeding in the direction of the mountains. The crash on the door startled her as Araziel tore it from its frame—the vector came to a stop as Kyriel tore out the power source.
“What are you doing?” she screamed. “Just let me go.”
“No, Your Majesty,” said Araziel. “You need to come back.”
“I order you to let me go,” she shouted at him. “I swear I will have you executed if you disobey me.” Araziel picked her up and pulled her from the vector. She began kicking
at his legs and pounded her fists against his chest. “Put me down,” she screamed. “They are going to kill Calab. You have to let me go.” She pulled out a dagger and plunged it into his stomach.
He grunted and buckled slightly. Kyriel took her from Araziel’s arms and wrapped his arm around her chest restraining her so she could barely move—her weapons were digging into her where Kyriel’s body pressed against hers. Araziel winced as he pulled the dagger from his stomach. He wiped the blood on his sleeve and let it fall into his pocket.
“We are taking you back, Your Majesty,” said Kyriel. “We can do this easily, or you can fight us all the way—it will not change the outcome.”
“Please just let me go,” she pleaded. “They are going to kill Calab and then kill everyone in Arkazatinia.”
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” said Kyriel, lifting her into the air. He and Araziel flew at speed back to the guild.
Calab sat chained at the foot of the Parmenides Mountains.
Where did they get adamantine chains?
He struggled futilely against them—the heat seared through his clothes burning only his skin.
They must have stolen them when they sacked the guild.
The witches and three alchemists surrounding him were waiting for Genevieve. The selfish part of him wanted her to save him, but he also hoped she would not come and would not risk her life. He had risked his life for her before, and he could do it again.
Dawn broke, and Genevieve was nowhere to be seen. The Alchitch continued to wait. Ten minutes passed, and there was still no sign of her or the alliance. He breathed a sigh—he never imagined Genevieve would sacrifice him, but he was glad she had.
“It looks like your queen isn’t coming,” said a witch named Cadan who seemed to be in charge. “Perhaps she overslept. It’s a pity, but we did give our word that we would kill you if she didn’t come—I always keep my word.” Calab ignored her. They all whipped their heads towards the vector that was speeding towards them.
“It’s just Rayan,” said Coryn, her second in command. The vector stopped in front of them, and Rayan disembarked.
“She was coming,” she said, flipping her hair from her face as she left the vector, “but her guards dragged her kicking and screaming back to the guild. She’s feisty. She even stabbed one of them to get away.”
“Hear that, Calab?” Cadan sneered. “The queen does love you after all. I hope that gives you comfort in your final moments.”
Calab said nothing. He was relieved that the guards had stopped her, but could not help feeling warmed that she had tried to come to him and not at all surprised that she had stabbed someone to get her own way. He hoped the alliance would come up with a plan. He hoped they would take out all of these sneering witches. He glared menacingly into the eyes of Cadan and let her see into the deepest bowels of Hell—she laughed loudly in his face.
Eve felt herself burn with rage as Kyriel set her down in the courtyard of the Guild of Impærielas.
“You have killed Calab!” she screamed at her guards. “You are both fired. I don’t want you or any of the guards anywhere near me. There is no longer a Queen’s Guard so just go home.”
“Your Majesty, you need to calm down,” said Kyriel. “Meet with the alliance. Come up with a plan.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” she shouted, removing the crossbow from her back and aiming it at them.
“You can’t take us both out,” said Araziel.
“Your Majesty, please—think about this,” said Kyriel. “You don’t want to hurt us. I know you are angry, but you’ll regret this. Meet with the alliance.”
“I’m going to get another vector, and you are not going to stop me,” she said menacingly. Kyriel gave a signal to someone behind her and before she knew what was happening she was disarmed by Barakel. She whipped a blade from her belt—the angel blade the Guild of Uriel had given her at her ascension.
“Your Majesty, stop,” said Kyriel sternly. “You wound any of us with that, and we will die. You will be a murderer. If you kill an angel, you are guaranteed a place in Hell.”
“I don’t care,” she screamed, blinking away the tears that had sprung to her eyes.
“Maybe not now,” continued Kyriel gently, “but you will. We’re not your enemy, Your Majesty. Work with us. We’ll get the alliance and come up with a plan.”
Eve dropped to her knees and could not stop the tears. She brought her hands to her face still holding the blade. Kyriel knelt down and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed.
“It’s okay Your Majesty,” he said. “Barakel, can you contact the alliance?” Eve looked towards Barakel who smiled gently at her. She stood to face him, and he handed her the crossbow before removing a vox from his pocket. She turned to face Araziel.
“I’m sorry,” she said. She dropped the crossbow and the angel blade and threw her arms around him. “I’m so sorry I stabbed you.”
“It’s fine, Your Majesty,” he said, patting her shoulder awkwardly. “It’s healed already.”
The alliance rulers all managed to arrive in Eurasia within five hours. They also arranged for their forces to begin heading to Eurasia and they would all arrive over the next few days.
“The scouts watching the Elion have reported that they had appeared to be gathering their armies in readiness to move on the Eurasian border. The witches seem to be Cloaked, the scouts have not been able to track their movements,” said Avalon.
Eve hid the bitterness she felt. If the scouts had informed them earlier that the witches were Cloaked, then they could have taken precautions, and Calab would not have been taken. She tried to ignore the feeling but found it impossible not to blame them, especially when a note arrived from the Alchitch.
HM Queen Genevieve of Impærielas, Crown of Arkazatinia,
We are disappointed that you failed to attend the meeting as we hoped to resolve the issue with the Crown peacefully. We regretfully assume from your failure to attend that this is not an option you wish to pursue. We are sure that we do not need to remind you of the consequences for your people of not surrendering, as we are confident that you and the noble Crown Alliance will have given this careful consideration before deciding to do nothing.
It is, of course, a great pity that your people will suffer because of your pride and stubbornness. We assume from the cold manner with which you have sacrificed the demon that you are willing to sacrifice anyone to stay on top. Calab seemed remarkably sensitive for a demon—they usually die with much more dignity. Anyway, we digress. We would like to inform you that we have formally declared war upon the Crown Alliance.
Warmest wishes
Your enemies
Eve suppressed her rage, ignored the grief and the tears and focussed her mind to one goal.
I am going to destroy the Alchitch!
The orders began to have the mothers, children and anyone vulnerable, unable or unwilling to fight evacuated to the sites in Lycea with the support of the Guardians of Arkazatinia who had rallied together to defend the sites. The sites were Cloaked with fae magic which they hoped would be enough to keep them safe though they knew the Alchitch could breach it.
They planned to move their forces towards the Eurasian borders as soon as the Laurentians arrived. They hoped to meet the Elion and the Alchitch on both sides as the angels, demons and hominem would move down through Laurasia and meet them. The alliance forces vastly outnumbered the Alchitch and the Elion who would not stand a chance against them if not for their magic.
“You must be regretting accepting the offer of allegiance now,” said Eve to Orrla as they headed with Lord Ezra towards the Impærielas guild where they would wait until the Laurentian armies arrived.
“They would have targeted us sooner or later I’m sure,” said Orrla quietly. Eve was not convinced and felt they would be destroyed for no good reason.
Eve left Orrla and Ezra, who wanted to din
e together that night, and paid a visit to Captain Lexas. He assured her that everyone was ready to move on a moment’s notice. The mothers and children had also been evacuated from the Impærielas community though the Lady Ariana remained at the guild. Eve was unhappy with her decision, as she was unwilling to fight and if Eve and Ezra died, there was no one to lead the order if another Crown should not emerge. Despite Eve’s protests, Lady Ariana remained against leaving. Exasperated, but lacking the patience to argue, Eve had left her and returned to her own room.
She could not bear to think about Calab. She hoped his end had been quick and painless, though, remembering what the alchemist had done to her when he captured her soul, she doubted it. They had said he had died without dignity and she hoped they had said that to taunt her and it did not mean that they had tortured him.
He died thinking that I did not even try to save him.
The thought sickened her. She could not wait. She wanted to attack the Alchitch there and then. She wanted to end them all.
Eve showered, changed, rearmed herself and ate automatically. She had not given any thought to the prophecy or to what Asmodeus had told her since her guard had brought her back, but she still had to figure out her purpose. Her head hurt and her eyes burned from the lack of sleep, but she headed towards the library and stood once more in front of her map.
She went over and over every detail and could see nothing. Frustrated and enraged she screamed and ripped the notes from the wall and scattered them across the library. Her guards entered her room when they heard her screams and found her weeping on the floor. Turel stood silently, out of his depth with displays of emotion, but the angel approached her.
“Your Majesty,” he said softly.
“I’m fine, Malachi,” she said. “Please, just leave me alone.”
“Your Majesty, I know this is hard, but Master Calab would not have wanted you to be in danger,” he said. “He would not have wanted your guards to let you go.”