This was a bad idea…
“Everyone back off!” Aric screamed over the chaos. “Retreat!”
However, it was useless. There was nowhere to hide.
Aric looked up at the stone platforms above the Dragon and saw the shape of one of his archers. It was impossible to tell exactly who it was, but he or she was holding on for his life up there. The pillar was about to fall down.
Aric cursed. He looked at the rope dangling from where his archer was about to fall, then gritted his teeth.
“Oh, screw this!” Aric said. He raced towards the rope and began to climb it as fast as he could. “Leth!” he called. “Leth, swing me!”
“What?” Leth asked.
“Swing me, damn you!” Aric insisted.
Leth obeyed, confused. Around them, the Company was in full retreat, some running towards the great staircase, others fleeing the other way, trying to get outside.
“No, not that way,” Aric told Leth. “Towards the head. Swing me towards the head.”
Leth was going to protest but figured this was not the best moment. Holding the rope, he ran away from the beast’s head, pulling Aric along above him, then released.
Aric soared across the hallway, describing an arc that carried him over the Dragon. When the rope was coming to a stop, getting ready to swing back around, Aric unsheathed his sword and let go. He fell, screaming, sword first on top of the Dragon’s head, and the Glowstone blade buried itself into the beast’s skull.
There was a squelching, and a gush of warm blood sprayed Aric’s face. The beast released a guttural sound that lasted no more than a moment, then its head fell lifelessly to the floor. The impact was such that the handle of Aric’s sword broke from the blade, and he came tumbling down, crashing to the floor.
A burst of pain flooded his torso, and for a moment there was only silence as Aric saw the world dance above his head, a thousand stars blotting out his vision.
“Fire take us all,” he heard Tharius mumble.
Then, Leth’s face came into focus above him and the world became slightly more recognizable.
“Are you alright?” Leth asked.
Other people gathered around. Everyone was staring at him with astonished looks on their faces.
“Are you insane!?” It was Lyra. She knelt beside him and began inspecting his body from head to toe. “You could have been impaled by one of the horns.”
Aric moved his mouth, but the pain in his chest made it hard to speak.
“What is it?” Leth asked. “You can’t talk?”
“Eliran…” Aric gasped.
“Oh, forget about the damn Witch,” Lyra grumbled.
“No,” Leth said. “He’s right. We need to go back to the Mage Tower.”
“Help me up,” Aric asked, cringing from the pain.
“You can’t move,” Lyra said, impotently. “You might have a broken rib or something.”
“I’m fine,” Aric replied, but the fact that he was still leaning on Leth for support betrayed him.
Lyra protested further, but Aric ignored her.
“Is everyone okay?” Aric asked.
“Jullion broke an arm,” Lyra replied, giving up. “Trissa, Nahir, and Athan have some burns on their skin, but nothing serious. All in all, I think we got lucky.”
“Lucky?” Tharius asked. “That’s not luck.” He pointed at the dragon’s massive carcass. “We got badass, that’s what we got.”
There were immediate cheers and whistles.
“Damn right,” Trissa agreed, holding onto her arm.
“Stop celebrating,” Leth said. “This isn’t over yet.”
“Everyone who’s not hurt, follow me,” Aric said, limping away. “And be ready.”
Lyra stayed behind, taking care of Jullion, who could not move, and despite her complaints, everyone else went with Aric.
The group tried to speed across the fortress, but the truth was that they weren’t in very good shape either. Still, they pushed ahead.
There was barely any light left when they crossed the bridge to the Mage’s Tower, but the damage from the dragon’s fiery breath was still visible. Large portions of stone had turned charcoal black, and it was possible that the structure had been affected, but it did not deter them. Carefully, the group crossed and penetrated the abandoned tower, following through the corridors that led to the library.
“I don’t like this,” Leth said. “It’s too quiet.”
Aric shushed him. He didn’t like the silence any better than Leth. He had been expecting to come into a fight, and if there wasn’t one, then it probably meant Eliran had already been defeated. However, if Sohtyr was there, the element of surprise was probably the only thing they could count on.
The group put away their Glowstone blades and drew their steel weapons as they tiptoed up the staircase. The great door to the library was shut, and Aric counted to three with his fingers before opening the door and bursting through it.
They halted immediately, jaws dropped. Every bookcase, table, and chair had been smashed to pieces, and there was no one in sight. No sign of Eliran or anyone else met them, not even their bodies. Instead, there was a massive hole in the wall where the secret door had once been, and beyond it, an altar of sorts where a purple cushion no longer held anything.
Aric lowered his sword and looked around. Had there been a fight, or was that destruction just the consequence of cracking the Glowstone lock?
“Well, I finally got inside,” Leth said, stepping into the now opened vault. “Too bad I still have no idea what this was all about.”
Chapter 21
The Rescue
“You’ve brought us into a trap!” Lucilla cried, a threatening sword in her hand.
Fadan gave her a cold stare. “If this was a trap, you would have all been arrested by now,” he hissed.
It was the truth. Fadan had no idea what was going on, but he had been at the wrong end of one of his father’s ambushes once. This was not one of those, but then what was it?
“The Prince is right,” Alman said, pacing along a row of empty cells. “They seem to have just packed up and abandoned this place.”
Lucilla lowered her sword hesitantly. “Then they want us to follow the prison boat,” she concluded. “That’s where the ambush will be.”
“Why go to that much trouble?” Fadan asked. “If my father is expecting a rescue,” he opened his arms, “this is the best place to spring a trap.”
The group exchanged a series of glances. They could obviously see he had a point, but that just made the enigma all the more puzzling.
“Do we have a choice?” Shayna asked. “I mean, we can’t just abandon our people. Wherever they’re going, they’ll be executed upon arrival.”
Silence filled the prison hallway, water droplets echoing from the hollow cells.
Fadan clenched his fists. Little flames escaped between his fingers as he turned around and stomped away from the group.
“Hey!” Lucilla shouted. “Where the heck do you think you’re‒‒?”
Alman raised a hand, begging her to calm down. “Let me,” he said.
The group of rebels closed into a tighter circle, frustration seeping into their whispers. Alman followed Fadan around a corner and into one of the cellblocks. The Prince was standing in front of a cell. Inside, Alman saw a rat, screeching in a corner, trying to dig himself into what looked like a bag of flour.
“Looking for something?” Alman asked.
Fadan did not reply right away.
“I’ve arranged with the spy to get my mother’s necklace,” he said at length. “I can get it for you. It’ll lead you straight to the prison barge.”
“Is this where Doric was jailed?” Alman asked, motioning towards the cell with his chin.
Fadan nodded.
“Before, in the sewers, you asked me about Lucilla. You want to know why she joined the rebellion?”
The Prince looked at him suspiciously but did not reply.
“We all have
our reason,” Alman said. “I joined because I lost everything I had. My title, my lands, everything... Shayna joined because she and her husband were caught harboring Mages. Lucilla’s reason is her daughter. Her name was Claura. It had been two months since she had been accepted into the Mage’s school of Augusta when the Purge began. She was only nine. Couldn’t cast a spell if she wanted, had never so much as tasted Runium, but she did have the Talent. It was enough for Tarsus’ Paladins.”
Alman saw Fadan grow pale.
“Claura was captured along with the rest of her class and hung at the gallows five days later. Lucilla and her husband tried to stop it. The last thing little Claura saw was her parents being cut down by Legionaries. Lucilla survived her injuries and was rescued from prison by what would eventually become the Rebellion. She has shaved her head every day since.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Fadan snapped.
“Because that’s why you are so angry,” Alman said. “You’re not just frustrated we’ve hit a wall. That happens. You’ve hit tougher ones. But you thought this was it. That Doric and the others would be free and you could finally stop this little war against your father.” Alman shook his head. “But you know better than that. Deep down, you know you’ve been fooling yourself. You know what you have to do, and just helping with these prisoners isn’t enough.”
Fadan’s eyes flickered and his chin trembled slightly. “What kind of person fights his own father?” he asked.
Alman grabbed the Prince’s arms, looking deep into his eyes. “I’m sorry to say this, but considering what your father is, what kind of person wouldn’t?”
Fadan tried to say something. His lips moved, but no sound came out.
“The Rebellion is hopeless, your majesty,” Alman continued. “We all know it. We keep fighting because, honestly, there’s nothing left for us to do. But with you… With you we wouldn’t even be a rebellion anymore. We’d be the people of the Empire, stomping their feet and saying ‘No more!’”
“I’m just a kid, Alman.”
“You are the Prince, and you are a Mage. You are brave enough to challenge your all-powerful father. You’ll be a beacon of hope, a banner waving proudly in the wind, telling the people they don’t have to cower in fear anymore. Every army needs someone to rally behind. You’re the person we’ve been waiting for, except you’re much better than any of us could have hoped for.”
Fadan shook his head. “You’re delusional. You’re seeing what you want to see.”
“Maybe,” Alman agreed. “What about you? What do you want to see?”
Cassia strolled around the dry fountain in the middle of the patio, her fingers unable to stay still as they plucked at each other. “Are you sure Fadan knows where this is?” she asked.
Venia nodded. She was standing in a corner by a large staircase that went up to the veranda surrounding the courtyard. The spy, Cassia had noted, always made sure she had her back to a wall, even when the two of them were alone.
Wind played through the archway leading out of the courtyard, whistling and howling. Cassia hugged herself, fighting off a shiver.
“It’s been years since the last time I was here,” Cassia noted, inspecting the vines tumbling from the arches of the veranda. They had grown much longer than she remembered.
“You used to come here?” Venia asked.
“Before me and Doric got married,” Cassia explained. “We usually snuck out of the Citadel when we wanted to be alone, but sometimes we just found an empty Palace. This was my favorite.”
The spy glanced around at the window shutters hanging from their hinges. “I thought you and Doric were from Fausta,” she said.
“We are. But for a few years, Doric lived here. When his father was High Marshal.” She adjusted her cloak. “I hated it. The distance. Never knowing when I would see him next. My father usually visited Augusta once a month. Because he had been the first of the Revolt’s nobles to surrender, he got to keep his Duchy, but his relationship with the Emperor was fragile. But my father always had a plan. He realized Tarsus liked me, so he planned to marry me to him. I didn’t mind because it was the only way I got to be with Doric.”
She chuckled. “I always cried when it was time to return to Fausta. I remember spending sleepless nights rolling in bed, picturing Doric surrounded by the Lagon and the Strada girls.” She shook her head. “One day, I must have been feeling rather vulnerable, I’m not sure, but I told him. The next day, he gave me this.” Cassia reached into her dress and pulled her Glowstone pendant out. “‘This way, we’ll always be connected,’ he’d said.” She chuckled again. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but… at the time, it felt like the most beautiful thing anyone could possibly say.” She glanced at Venia smilingly. “Earned him a very decent kissing session.”
The spy chuckled. “I guess loving a poet does have its perks. Weren’t you worried the Emperor would eventually agree to marry you to Tarsus, though? Wasn’t Doric?”
Cassia nodded. “I was, yes. Especially because I knew Tarsus was trying to persuade his father to accept. Doric, however, wasn’t worried at all.”
“Really? He wasn’t jealous?”
“Jealous?” Cassia threw her head back, laughing. “You clearly don’t know Doric. He was jealous of Ambrosian Astal or Dionesia Mantara, anyone who could write better than him. My suitors didn’t worry him. I think that was one of the things I loved most about him. Besides, his father knew the Emperor well. Doric always assured me Tassan had no intention of marrying his son to one of his enemies’ daughters. According to Faric, my father was a fool for even trying. There was only one other person Doric was truly jealous of. Intilla.”
“I’m pretty sure that was mutual, though.”
“Maybe,” Cassia said with a shrug. “You know, when we were little, those two were actually inseparable.” She paused, her eyes set somewhere among the stars. “It’s incredible how people can grow apart…”
“It takes a very special kind of bravery to remain friends with someone who has everything you ever wanted.”
The Empress turned to her spy but said nothing for a while. “Now there’s something neither of them would ever admit.”
An owl cooed and Venia perked up, her eyes shooting towards the patio’s entrance. “Your son is coming.”
“You can hear him?” Cassia asked, searching the darkness beyond the gate. “Is he alone?”
The answer came shortly as Fadan’s silhouette crossed into the courtyard. The Empress would have recognized his walk if it was foggy and she was half blind. A dark cloak flowed around the Prince, and when his features finally became visible, he looked… older, somehow.
When had she seen him the last time? It couldn’t possibly have been that long…
“Sweetie,” Cassia said, taking her son into her arms. “Are you alright?”
“I’m alright, mother,” Fadan replied.
It was a silly, empty question. What else would he reply?
But he was not alright. She looked into his deep, dark eyes and what she saw was pain. It wouldn’t have been more obvious if he was sobbing while tugging at her skirt, except he didn’t do that now.
Cassia ran a delicate finger along his cheek, where his fair skin turned slightly pink. It was so easy for a mother to miss it when her little boy turned into a man. Had she really missed it, or was she just pretending like she had?
“I wish you had told me,” Cassia said. “About your abilities.”
“Mother, I know there is a lot to talk about, but time is against us. Every moment we waste is‒‒”
“I know,” Cassia interrupted. “Your friends can have the damn necklace. I just want you to be safe.”
“Mother…” Fadan looked down, then quickly back up and into her eyes. “I’m going with them.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry,” Fadan said. “This is something I must do.”
“You can’t,” the Empress almost screamed. “I’ll gladly give your friends the neck
lace, I don’t care. But you can’t‒‒”
“I’m not asking for your permission,” Fadan told her. He grabbed her hand. “Mother, I’ve had enough. I won’t be a part of it anymore.”
Cassia frowned. “What are you talking about? A part of what?”
“Father’s schemes,” Fadan replied. “The arrests, the lies, the persecutions. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Son…” Cassia shook her head. “You have nothing to do with any of it. It’s not your responsibility.”
“Yes, it is!” Fadan snapped, then regained his composure. “I’m the Prince. The heir. What I do matters, and what I don’t do matters just as much.” He let go of Cassia’s hands. “Mother, I’m going, and I’m not coming back.”
That was not something Cassia was prepared for. She mumbled something incoherently until Fadan spoke in her turn.
“Mother, you have to understand what this means. I’m setting you free as well. There’ll be no more reason for you to stay. Aric is out of father’s reach. Soon, Doric will be as well. You can leave. Escape.”
Cassia’s expression was paralyzed in shock. She glanced at Venia, then back to her son. “I… your father… He will…”
“Fire take my father!” Fadan shouted. “He can’t keep doing this to people. You included. This ends now.”
“Son… Let’s think about this, please.”
Fadan shook his head in such a calm, definitive way that Cassia’s stomach went cold.
“I’ve thought about it for too long already,” the Prince said. “But I’ve only been delaying it. My decision has been made. I’m sorry I won’t be here to help you escape,” he looked at Venia, “but I’m sure you will be fine.”
“No,” Cassia said, her hands joining in a plea. “If you’re going, then I’m going with you. I won’t let you fight Paladins on your own.”
“I won’t be alone,” Fadan replied. “Besides,” he showed his mother a hand and it burst into flames, startling his mother, “I can defend myself.” He looked at Venia. “Can you get my mother out of Augusta?”
“I can,” the spy replied.
The Dragon Hunter and the Mage Page 42