Ash nodded.
“Ash… whatever happened… you did it! And Maksimos couldn’t,” Elektra responded excitedly. Pointing to the wall, she asked. “What does it say?”
Ash hesitated, before translating the words slowly, “Three becomes one, one becomes all and all becomes none.”
Ash brainstormed the cryptic message in silence but came up with nothing. The word ‘none’, didn’t sound promising at all to him. Neither of his friends spoke and the inscription gradually dissolved, blending into the stone once again. Their elevated breathing was the only sound in the tranquil temple as they stared at the blank wall.
Chapter 16
An Unlikely Saviour
The Third Realm
Raven found it difficult to shake Niko off. She had to search for the portal on her own, as per Drakon’s instructions, but with every turn she made, Niko shadowed her. As much as she enjoyed his company, his main duty was to protect her, yet now she needed to divert his attention for the night. During their dinner she’d made sure that he had drunk copious amounts of wine. She had topped up his glass continually while hers remained only half full at all times. The small amount of wine she had consumed wore off quickly and exhilaration kicked in when her plan succeeded – Niko lay sprawled across the table. She snuck out of the stone house that he occupied and galloped Abrax back to Mount Hieros.
Leaving her mount at the bottom of the stairway, she ascended the steep stairs. Once at the top, she stopped for a moment, taking in the majestic City below. A memory jarred her as she recalled the first time that she had entered Aether – how awestruck she had been. The feeling hit her full force, so much so that her breath caught in her throat and the familiar tightness in her chest returned.
Raven shuddered, shaking off the feeling before she entered the immense amphitheatre. She strode over to the Unity symbol and examined the circular engraving. A loud scraping sound from behind her broke her concentration. Swinging around, Raven gasped aloud.
Seated casually on one of the stately Guardian chairs, Erebus watched her disdainfully. “What brings you here at this time of night?” he questioned mockingly, his top lip curling into a sneer.
Taken aback by his unexpected presence, Raven quickly composed herself and touched her sword on her hip.
“No need for that,” Erebus sneered. With a click of his fingers, the Fallen appeared, swarming into the amphitheatre.
Raven shifted her weight, placing her feet slightly apart in a fighting stance. She gathered that this wasn’t a friendly meeting with her commander and fellow warriors. Drawing her sword, she kept it at the ready. Even though the Fallen outnumbered her, she would fight to the death if she had to. And she’d take Erebus down with her.
“Where’s your friend?” Erebus’s smirk broadened.
“On his way here.”
“While the cat is away, the mouse will play…”
Raven narrowed her dark eyes.
“Nice trick you played on him, by the way. So, while we wait for your friend to come out of his drunken stupor, why don’t you tell us what you’ve been up to?”
Raven’s arm jolted. Did Erebus know about the symbol?
Barak moved in closer, intimidating her. “We’ve seen the Dark Magic that you weave over Lord Drakon’s mind.”
“Dark Magic?” Raven said relieved, as she stepped backward until she stood on the centre of the Unity symbol.
“Your master plan is to assassinate Lord Drakon,” Barak continued, “and, once you’ve done that, you want to seize his position as leader.”
This time Raven laughed. “You believe I’d kill him for that? He’s like a father to me. And who do you presume would be the assassin?” Raven knew the answer before Erebus even spoke his name. This was a set-up by Erebus to have her killed by the Fallen.
“Niko, of course.” Erebus rose from the chair and sauntered over to the symbol. Extracting a long, lithe sword from his scabbard, he placed the tip of the sword on the outer circle.
“You forget… not just anyone can replace a Guardian, especially the Dark Guardian. Aether has to choose.” Raven gestured to the emblem beneath her feet. “You’ve guessed wrong.”
Erebus’s face contorted into a scowl. Trailing the sword’s tip on the circle, he arced around her.
Raven locked eyes with him, turning in his direction. “Should I want to become the leader,” – Raven emphasised this word – “I’ll do it the right way. I’ll rise up from the great deeds that I achieve and my followers will eulogise me. I won’t be a snake like you and slither behind Lord Drakon’s back and poison the Fallen with lies.”
“And yet you poison Drakon with the pitiful advice that you give him.”
“Your jealousy of Lord Drakon’s relationship with me has blinded you,” hissed Raven “You’re the pitiful one.”
The scraping of the sword on the stone surface ceased. Erebus halted in his tracks. “How dare you speak to your commander in this manner?” he snarled. “Arrest her!”
“Wait,” said Raven.
But the Fallen had already surged forward on Erebus’s command, surrounding her. Two warriors grabbed her roughly by the arms while another whisked away her sword. They bound her hands behind her back as she struggled helplessly against their strength. After gagging her, they yanked a hessian sack over her head and hauled her down the stairway. The last she remembered was when they flung her into a wooden cart as someone whacked her over the head, knocking her out cold.
Raven awoke in a daze, blinking away the silver stars which studded her vision. The hessian sack was gone and her hands were untied. Reaching up, she prodded the tender lump that had formed on the back of her head. Dawn broke across the icy eastern sky and the scarlet sun, as if on cue, rose amicably above the woodlands. Raven lay on the ground near a frozen waterfall, in a clearing covered by a crunchy layer of snow.
Her eyes searched frantically for her right-hand man, but realisation suddenly dawned on her that Niko hadn’t been with her the previous night. And now she needed him by her side more than ever. Erebus wanted her dead and, if she’d taken Niko’s warning more seriously, she wouldn’t be in this situation. She’d been a fool going to the amphitheatre alone.
Raven could make out three silhouettes standing nearby. They were arguing among themselves. She noted that Erebus wasn’t present.
“What… what’s going on?” Raven stuttered. Her head pounded and the pressure in her temples felt as if her head would explode.
Barak strode over to her, placed his huge booted foot on her chest and shoved her back down. “Stay where you are.”
Raven turned her head and the coldness of the snow bit into her cheek, but, at the same time, it relieved the pounding in her head. Not far off from where she lay they had secured Abrax to an oak tree. The black stallion bobbed his head in agitation.
“So you didn’t plan to kill Lord Drakon?” Barak spat out the words.
“As I told Erebus, he guessed wrong…”
“Erebus was your target all along,” Barak said. “Shifty little one, you are!”
Barak rolled his foot on her chest. Raven winced.
“Erebus has been by Lord Drakon’s side right from the start when we were exiled. You’re a threat to him and also to us,” announced Barak.
“Why wait… kill me now if that’s how you feel!”
“Not yet.” Barak leered at her. “We’re going to have a bit of fun first.”
Barak pressed his foot down harder on her chest causing Raven to exhale sharply. Her ribcage cracked beneath the force of his foot. A sharp pain shot through her chest and her eyes watered. She tried shoving his foot away, but he was too strong. Twisting her leg, she reached down to her ankle sheath, but it was empty. Damn, Niko still had her dagger.
Squint inched forward to speak, “How do we know she isn’t a witch? She could do the same to us – bewitch us too. I say kill her now!”
Barak unsheathed his sword and placed the tip in the curve of Raven’s throat.
Raven shut her eyes; she couldn’t move, the pain was unbearable and she was helpless against the brute Barak.
A guttural growl resounded from the dense woods. Barak lifted his sword, a confused expression crossing his ugly face as he turned toward the threatening sound.
“Kill her!” shouted Squint hysterically. “Do it now!”
But it was too late. The white alpha wolf launched himself from the shadows and hurtled toward Barak who dropped his sword in fright. As he scrabbled around on the ground to recover it, the wolf hit him head-on, flinging him up and over. He crashed to the ground and, in one fluid motion, the wolf pounced on him, clamping its huge jaws around his neck. Barak’s body squirmed and his arms and legs flailed feebly, carving a dying snow angel. The wolf released his neck seconds before his body combusted into black ashes, staining the pureness of the white snow. Turning around, the wolf scanned the surrounds for the other two warriors who were fleeing for the cover of the trees. Meanwhile Raven hoisted herself up onto her elbow and slithered toward Abrax. Another eight sets of red eyes gleamed out of the woods where the two warriors were heading.
Screams mingled with howls ricocheted off the trees. The alpha wolf turned, facing Raven who had untethered Abrax. She hauled herself onto the horse. Her chest pained from her broken ribs and her breathing came in short, stuttered bursts. She managed to secure her foot in the stirrup, swinging herself up onto Abrax’s back just as the wolf reached them.
The wolf didn’t attack. The pack emerged from the trees, blood staining their snow-white fur and dripping from their fangs. Slowly, the alpha wolf backed away, lifting his massive head heavenward and let out a haunting howl. Icy shivers jolted up Raven’s spine. She grabbed onto Abrax’s mane as he bolted toward the overgrown pathway.
The pack assembled, preparing for ambush, but the alpha wolf barked a warning at them. Raven glanced over her shoulder and, in the split second that it took her to escape, the thought flashed through her mind – these were no ordinary wolves.
Chapter 17
The Healer
Early morning light split the sky apart, shining through the darkness like a broken smile. Drakon hardly noticed the dawn breaking as he and Erebus descended the stairway and approached the Agora. The once bustling marketplace had turned into a ghostly ruin. Wrecked tables scattered the narrow walkways and parts of the regal columns had collapsed – the aftermath of a vicious war. Apple trees and grapevines that had once produced sweet fruit were now a tangled, dead mess of broken branches and vines. City dwellers passing through were the only ones who now frequented the Agora. Buying and selling merchandise no longer happened – life had changed drastically since the Dark War, and it had changed for the worst.
When Drakon reached the drinking-fountains he gazed around. “All this destruction…” he trailed off, running his hand over a lopsided fountain. “It’s brought us nothing…”
“The war wasn’t in vain Lord. Our species has survived,” responded Erebus resolutely. “It’s what you wanted.”
“Many of our people died. And many Seraphians too.”
Erebus looked puzzled at Drakon’s statement. “They’re only any good dead or as slaves.”
“Slaves.” Drakon’s dark eyes glimmered with intent. “I’m releasing them from this… this slavery,” he announced unexpectedly.
“Lord?”
“Don’t!”
“But Lord—”
“Food won’t magically appear on our tables. Crops won’t grow on their own. The Dark Legion is incapable of running a City and I can’t do it on my own.”
“I can step in and help – you only need—”
“We’ve only lasted through the winter because the Seraphians had already stockpiled provisions. Now that the Wall’s repaired they must return to their previous duties immediately. Look around Erebus… our City isn’t flourishing. We’re destroying this Realm too.”
“But… we’ll have no control over them. They’ll rebel – they’ll see you as weak.”
“They won’t. Mark my words! They know which side their bread is buttered on. The curfew will remain from sunset until sunrise but, during the day – well – they’re free to resume their trading.”
“Lord, it won’t work. Listen to me; we need to run this past the Dark Legion first… let’s put it to the vote.”
“Do you want our army to starve… do you want to starve?” Drakon spun around to face Erebus, his expression full of anger.
Erebus cowered. “Lord… let’s go about this—”
The thunderous sound of hooves drilling the cobblestone drowned out Erebus’s words. Drakon swung around as a black horse galloped between the broken structures which had once been the Gaia archway. The horse veered onto the circular road heading in their direction and careened past them, vaulting over the lopsided fountain where it came to a standstill on the other side.
A limp figure slid off and crumpled in a heap at the horse’s feet.
Drakon edged closer, cautiously stepping over the fountain’s broken base. “Raven?” His forehead creased into a frown.
Raven lifted her head and whispered in a croaky voice, “Erebus… he tried to… to k-kill me.”
Erebus bolted forward, swinging his booted foot toward Raven’s face. But in that split second, Drakon raised his hands and struck the air. The earth exploded beneath Erebus’s feet, flinging him skyward. Drakon lifted him higher until Erebus’s body reached the imaginary line where the Gaia archway had once graced the skyline. With arms outstretched, Drakon cast his hands violently to the side, hurling Erebus down with an immense force that knocked him unconscious when he hit the ground.
Drakon bent over Raven, placing his ear to her chest. Her breathing had shallowed. Drakon’s heart lurched at the possibility that she might die. He had to get help quickly. A small crowd of passers-by had gathered nearby and Drakon looked around stricken at their frightened faces.
Once he came to his senses he bellowed out orders. “Take Raven to her chambers… and get the healer there now!”
Seraphians scuttled in all directions. Four men hurriedly constructed a makeshift stretcher from a broken produce table and carefully lifted Raven onto it. Raven moaned. They carried her away, her head lolling, as she passed in and out of consciousness. Meanwhile two young girls raced toward Aer Region to summon the Third Realm’s healer.
***
Rachel gathered her mother’s healing herbs, strips of linen and a canister of wine, throwing these hastily into a large, handheld basket. She’d accompany her mother as she had many times before so that she could help with the assessment and healing of Raven’s injury. Any additional information that she collected would be an advantage and she might get the opportunity to snoop around Aether. Word spread quickly as the Seraphians recounted the story of Drakon’s confrontation with Erebus. Shocked at this news because Erebus was Drakon’s trustworthy commander, the Seraphians milled about uncertainly. What had gone wrong? Would Drakon execute him?
Inside her chamber, Raven lay asleep on a low bed, covered in soft furs. Elethea placed her basket next to the bed and gently touched Raven’s cheek to waken her. Raven stirred, her eyes fluttering half-open. Elethea gestured to Rachel to pass the chalice of water nearby. She lifted it to Raven’s mouth but she groaned in pain and refused to drink.
“Get me the comfrey leaves, Rachel,” Elethea instructed.
Rachel extracted a wooden mortar and pestle from the basket. She selected a handful of comfrey leaves. After pouring a dash of water into the mortar, she ground the ingredients into a poultice. Meanwhile Elethea pressed softly around Raven’s ribs feeling for the injury.
“Pour some wine, it’ll help her sleep,” Elethea said.
Rachel emptied the chalice and filled it with wine. Raven drank it willingly.
Elethea gently smeared the bruised area with olive oil so that the poultice wouldn’t cause an irritation on Raven’s skin. After applying the poultice, she wrapped Raven’s ribcage tightly with the linen st
rips. Rolling Raven onto her back, she placed the blankets around her for support, preventing her from rolling onto her side.
Rachel noticed Drakon standing in the shadows of the room, silently observing Elethea. She hadn’t realised that he had entered the room. His dark face was lined with worry. He clasped his hand around an object that hung from his neck. When his hand dropped to his side, he revealed a bronze locket nestled against his chest. Drakon stepped out of the shadows and Elethea turned to face him, bowing slightly with her eyes downcast.
“I cannot thank you enough, Elethea.” Drakon’s eyes reflected sorrow, an expression that Rachel believed was impossible for him to experience.
“Lord Drakon, she’ll recover.” Elethea wiped her hands on her tunic. “She has three cracked ribs which have, luckily, not pierced her lungs. With plenty of rest and no strenuous exercise for at least four weeks, she’ll be as good as new,” she advised.
“You’ll tend to her until she’s fully recovered?” Drakon asked.
“I will, Lord.”
“Excuse me while I attend to another matter.” Drakon strode briskly to the door, turning one last time to glance at Raven, before he disappeared through the doorway.
Rachel exhaled loudly and plonked herself down on the corner of the bed. Raven was out cold, exhausted from her ordeal and the effects of the wine.
“I know what you’re planning to do, baby girl. You’d better go quickly. Drakon is ordering Erebus’s execution – soon this place will be teaming with warriors.”
“How do you know that?”
“Didn’t you see how he looked at her? He’d never let anyone come between them, let alone harm her. Not even Erebus.”
Rachel stared at her mother, realisation dawning on her. “He sees Raven as his daughter.”
Elethea nodded. She strolled over to the far side of the bed, picked up the wine canister and packed it into her basket.
“What if we give her a potion, that’ll—?”
The Middle Realm Page 10