Wings of Ruin (Otherworld Book 3)

by Talis Jones

  The girl's only response was a light groan and Cassandra snickered. “Suyin, you'd best wake up or Tiago will eat all the breakfast and you'll be left with none. You dare give him such satisfaction?”

  One eyelid slid open to reveal a cold glare. “I'll gut him, the nothus.”

  “How ever did you manage to complete your rotation for morning chores?” Cassandra mused teasingly.

  Both eyes opened and mischief danced in them. “I bribed the younger Whispers to swap with me.”

  Cassandra laughed then left the girl to force herself awake. Stepping towards the fire she paused with a smile as Kenshin stood with a plate already filled for her. “Thank you, Kenshin. You think of my needs before even I have a chance to do so. I'm not sure what I'd do without such kindness.”

  “Starve, likely,” Kenshin grinned.

  “Likely indeed,” she agreed, accepting the offered food. “Sit with me?” she asked with just the softest touch of uncertainty.

  Kenshin bobbed his head with that natural grace of his, responding to the meekness in her voice, and shoved Tiago over so they could share a log. Ever attentive, as she praised him for being, he kept her cup full and her plate fresh until she'd had her fill. He didn't quite know what it was about her that drew him in so deeply. Perhaps it was that impenetrable control she insisted on wearing as a mask and only slid off for him to see the quaking girl beneath. Her ability to command brought him awe, his need to follow such strength instinctual, but it was the softness she guarded so carefully that spun tales of “What if?” in his heart. All he knew was that where she went he would follow and it would take more than Titus himself to divert their entwining paths.

  “I'm sorry if you felt forced into this journey,” Kenshin murmured not wanting the others to overhear. “I do truly hope it will be a fun reprieve for you.”

  Cassandra patted his knee and the warmth filled his veins. “I know you only have my best interests at heart, Kenshin. Never doubt me for I will never doubt you.”

  “Spaseeba, mi suverenya,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her hand.

  For a moment he thought she might tear back her hand but the tension left her fingers as quickly as it had entered. “What does that mean?” she asked curiously.

  He smiled softly. “My sovereign. My queen.”

  A lovely blush dusted her cheeks. “Well I wouldn't call myself a queen, Kenshin. I only wish to join the Council, change it perhaps, but not rule it.”

  He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “For now.”

  When he pulled back he saw ambition dancing in her eyes and he knew he was right. She wanted so much more than dull bureaucracy. She wanted change and if she had to wrest control away from the ancient and tired tradition of the Council then so be it. Were it any other who held such dangerous desires in their heart he would report them at once, but it was Cassandra. Sweet, vulnerable Cassandra who hid beneath an armor of pride and ferocity. Abel and some of the others might fear her potential role in the prophecy but he knew he could keep her on the path of the light. This prophecy would be thwarted as others had been and Cassandra's campaign would leave them a stronger world for it.

  Be not afraid of change, but those who make the changes, he mused.

  Chapter 13

  The roads by which Medusa led them had largely been cocooned in forests. Oneiroi was a wild place and the roads few and careful. That was something Cassandra would be sure to change for while she felt an affinity for the earth, progress could not be had without proper roads. How else could Oneiroi be connected? Without them the poor souls in smaller villages were left to their own devices, forgotten when new inventions or ideas sprung up in cities. They were left firmly out of society as Cassandra had been in her remote Swiss mountain home and she would not stand for it.

  Despite the lack of formal transport there remained surprisingly little difference to be seen as they rode from northern Quidel to southern Ailill. They'd traversed the entire Island nation and yet the shifts between regions remained subtle. True Mordréda had been pebbled and gray beside ancient evergreens while Ailill grew sandy and blue, but that was geography, not people. Everything was so mixed, so blended as souls from the Outer World settled at random on the Island creating a muddled sameness that did not sit well with Cassandra. Despite her refusal to acknowledge her past life, an unexpected current of homeland pride remained within her heart and it curled her lip to see so many throw their patriotism and culture aside to contribute to this sameness. Everything appeared the same and she could not fathom their willingness to dismiss the homeland that had raised them.

  Cassandra hadn't realized she'd muttered this last thought aloud until Medusa responded. “But this is their home now. And if you look, none of them have forgotten. Walk into a pub at random and order a meal from anywhere in the Outer World or native to Oneiroi. Some towns even incorporate old festivals from the Outer World or come together to create new ones in this new life.” Medusa met Cassandra's eye and tilted her head a bit puzzled. “Can you not see the beauty that ignites when one paints with all of the colors?”

  “I see half-truths and diluted memories,” Cassandra sniffed coldly. She preferred things passionately sorted, labelled, and organized.

  “I'm sorry you feel that way,” Medusa shot back sadly.

  Silence held Cassandra's tongue until a soft gasp slipped past her lips as they made their way through Circ de Apa at last. There was an intangible wildness here, something one simply sensed rather than saw, and it called to her. Every once in a while she saw small acts of magic performed, breathing life into wilting flowers or knocking someone's hat off in jest, and it drew her gaze.

  “Why have they no strict rules and we do?” she asked without expecting a response.

  “Because their magic is small and unburdened by the responsibilities of a Whisper Guardian,” Medusa intoned.

  “Ah to be a Jourdie of Ailillish blood,” Tiago sighed.

  “You'd really give up your gift of the sky just to play jokes at will?” Suyin scoffed.

  “It's a tempting offer of freedom,” he countered.

  Cassandra's eyes continued to drink it all in. “Indeed,” she murmured. In a louder voice she asked, “Why must all Whispers be Guardians? Why can we not choose what role we wish to play?”

  Medusa's sharp eye held her like a stern teacher about to chastise a student. “It is part of the bargain we strike to receive second life and Oneiroi's gifts. Take it or leave it.”

  Anger simmered in her veins but before Cassandra could open her mouth a woman perhaps in her thirties with midnight hair and copper skin stepped into their path. Cassandra stared down at the woman from atop her horse curious as to who would dare disrupt their way. “Who are you?” she asked politely if not a bit stiffly.

  “This is Israfil,” Medusa supplied. “A gifted seer and friend to Titus and the Whispers.”

  Interest flared bright within her. “Are you indeed?”

  Israfil gave a polite bow of her head. “I can introduce myself just fine, Sa,” she teased. “However she is right. My name is Israfil, a Jourdie-born seer of Ailill as well as matchmaker and midwife to those in need.”

  Something about the woman itched Cassandra's senses, as if she were hiding something obvious yet holding it just out of reach. The woman's dark eyes held a wisdom of far greater than a mere thirty years ought to bring and the longer she gazed the more she felt like she was about to tip over the edge into an abyss. “How old are you?”

  Israfil barked out a laugh. “What an impertinent question! I shall just say the Island has blessed me with the ability to postpone my day of passing.”

  “Immortal as the Whispers?” she pried.

  “Oh no, nothing so far-reached as that,” she grinned. “My day of passing will come as it does for all Jourdies and it shall be sooner than any Whisper's, lest they choose otherwise.” Her tone sobered at that last and her eyes pierced her as if with some knowing secret.

  “If you are a see
r, do you see people's passings?”

  A grim curiosity pulled the woman's face. “Are you asking for yourself?” At the frigid challenge in Cassandra's gaze she cleared her throat softly. “I am more in-tune with births.”

  “Interesting,” Cassandra replied sounding not at all interested. Turning towards Medusa she asked, “Shall we continue on?”

  Medusa hesitated with a glance towards Israfil but the woman waved them on. Once more they rode down the winding streets until reaching a rather small citadel of wind-worn stone. Greetings were exchanged, the wagon unloaded, and rooms assigned. While the others had sought to fill their bellies with a proper meal, Cassandra wandered the quiet halls.

  “Oh!” a small voice cried out.

  Cassandra's arms whipped out to steady the blur that had nearly knocked her over. “Careful there,” she frowned.

  “I-I'm sorry,” the Whisper apologized.

  She was lithe as a dancer with dark hair and innocent eyes but there was something in her face that made Cassandra guess, “Are you Anya, Alexei's sister?”

  The girl's eyes grew round. “How did you know?”

  Cassandra gave a maternal smile. “You look very alike besides your coloring.”

  A blush painted Anya's delicate face. “I haven't seen him in years.... We had an awful fight and I left Quidel. How...” she bit her lip. “How is he? Do you know him well?”

  “Although you've yet to ask, my name is Cassandra and yes I do know him. We traveled here together for a visit.” Cassandra let her eyes shine with pity and watched the girl's body tense in anticipation. “He must not have known you would be here or else I doubt he would have come. I don't know the nature of your argument but I know it hurt him deeply.”

  Tears welled up in Anya's eyes and her hands clenched in a futile effort to keep them from falling. “I should apologize. I've wanted to for so long but I was just scared he would reject me.”

  “Ah,” Cassandra whispered with a pained expression. “I wouldn't seek him out just now, Anya. He is not yet ready to make amends. Time has turned regrets into anger and I fear if you were to go to him now he would only break your heart and any hope for reunion would be forever destroyed.”

  Anya's breath caught in her throat, horror leaking from her eyes. “What should I do? Porfabór, tell me.”

  “Stay away from him, Anya,” Cassandra advised apologetically. “Now that I know you wish to repair things I shall begin gently bringing the idea into his mind and when he is ready I will send for you. I don't know how long it will take but so long as you do not interfere I am confident I can bring him around.”

  “Take as long as he needs,” she nodded, wiping her tearstained cheeks. “Spaseeba, Cassandra.”

  As the girl rounded the corner Cassandra let her sympathetic façade drop like a weight. Alexei was a useful part of her coterie and she'd be damned if she let some simpering child snatch him from her. One word from Anya and she knew that Alexei would abandon all to be by his sister's side. Well, that would simply have to wait until she'd had her use of him.

  Swiftly seeking the dining hall as her next destination she slid into an open seat at the table her coterie had claimed. As usual Tiago was regaling them in some tale or another while Suyin poked it apart and the others laughed. As she took a bite of a soft yeasty roll from the basket she met Kenshin's concerned gaze and gave him a half-reassuring smile. Like clockwork he interrupted Tiago's story to turn the attention towards her.

  “What's wrong, Cassandra?” he asked swiftly causing the others to fall silent.

  “I'm not sure it's my place to say...” she hedged.

  “Are we together or not?” Suyin challenged. “We can trust each other to keep our words only between ourselves. Now out with it.”

  With careful reluctance Cassandra confessed, “I ran into Anya.”

  Alexei's spine straightened at once. “She is here? My Anya?”

  “Yes, but Alexei...I wouldn't seek her out just yet.”

  His golden brows lowered over stormy blue eyes. “Why not?”

  “She claimed no interest in seeing you. She claimed to have no brother anymore.” Cassandra's entire body quaked with sympathy and Alexei's body crumbled.

  “She hates me and I don't understand why. I only wanted to protect her and...” His words drifted off, his throat too choked by tears he was fiercely battling back.

  “Alexei,” Cassandra crooned as she reached out and lay her hand on his arm. “Let me talk to her. Give her space, do not seek her out, but let me talk to her and I am sure she will come around.”

  His mournful eyes met hers and he nodded. “I will let you navigate these waters for us. When the time is right Anya and I will be reunited and with your aid that time will be sooner than later. I am sure of it.”

  Cassandra gave his arm a comforting squeeze before Tiago dragged him outside to distract him with whatever the little city had to offer. Kenshin reached out and held her hand as if to steady her.

  “That was very kind of you,” Medusa approved though something in her remained unconvinced.

  “I can be kind when I see a need for it,” she shrugged.

  “Well it seems like a damn waste of time to me,” Suyin grunted shattering the careful atmosphere of respectful sympathy.

  “Excuse me?” Medusa demanded hotly.

  “Alexei is the nicest guy I know and he had honorable intentions. The kid should've just talked to him rather than storm off like a child in tantrum and shatter his heart. He used to laugh, often, and now he only worries.” Suyin shook her head. “She doesn't deserve to reconcile with him.”

  “And what about Alexei?” Kenshin pressed gently. “Does he not deserve this chance?”

  Suyin grumbled her response beneath her breath.

  “Have no worry,” Cassandra intervened. “Their issues will not get in the way of our mission.”

  “What mission?” Medusa inquired with a thread of suspicion.

  Cassandra's brows lifted in innocence. “Why to take advantage of all that Ailill has to offer, of course.”

  Medusa grinned, excited indeed for the circus that was the lifeblood of this town, but something niggled at her thoughts and would not let go. Cassandra had made new friends awfully quickly and it felt...strange.

  Back in Mordréda, just days before they left, Medusa had stumbled across a girl crying in her room and when she'd drawn closer she saw that the girl's long hair had been braided into the laces down the back of her dress and tiny pricks of dried blood lay scattered across her scalp from where her head had been bowed causing the roots to pull painfully. Sa had pressed her for answers and at last discovered that not only had Cassandra tormented the poor girl but had done so to several younger Jourdies and Whispers alike. She preyed on those smaller and weaker than herself, drew them in with her warm smiles and promises of friendship before abusing them when they broke any of her rules or failed her in some way. She scared them into never telling a soul or reaching out for help.

  Sa reported it to the Council and although Abel would have had Cassandra stripped of her magic, she had convinced the Council to let her press on with their trip to Ailill. She would take Cassandra far away from Mordréda and somehow shake this darkness from her. Sa never seemed able to give up on someone hurting. Some Whispers and Jourdies adjusted poorly at first but they almost always came around eventually. She just had to figure out how to melt this girl of ice.

  Sa's thoughts turned towards dear Kenshin and watched his lovestruck gaze as he held Cassandra's hand and the tender one Cassandra gave back. She hadn't had the heart to tell him. Learning such things might make that look in his eyes fade and right now Sa wondered if his love for her might be the only tether keeping Cassandra from the edge. She could only hope.

  Chapter 14

  Night like velvet cloaked Cassandra's shoulders as she slipped silently from her room while shadows held her hands and cushioned each step. Although the Whispers slept, there was no official curfew and yet still she cho
se to depart in secret. She wanted some information but no audience lest her suspicions be dashed and leave her a fool.

  Escaping the compound through a servants door she closed her eyes against the few burning torches lighting the streets. Focusing her mind on her quarry her fingers twitched until a destination rose in her thoughts and her eyes sliced open with a smile. Twisting lanes and leaning structures pulled her down towards the shore. Jourdies were swaying to drunken song but none spotted the wraith of gold making swift chase through the midnight hour. When at last a caravan matching the one in her mind's eye stood before her she stopped.

  Her heart beat, her breaths stuttered, and her fists clenched as if holding onto a lifeline. She did not know what she would find here, only that she had to at least ask. The sound of a twig snapping cracked behind her but she refused to jolt or even turn. Expanding her senses through magic she already knew who stood behind her.

  “I've been looking for you,” she greeted.

  Israfil circled the girl slowly until their gazes locked. “Not looking so much as hunting, I suspect,” the older woman smiled.

  Cassandra's polite façade tightened. “Not even that if I'm honest. I have a question and I require your answer.”

  The woman's dark eyes seemed to dance in the moonlight, the shadows enhancing the mystery woven within her aura. “Shall we sit?” Without waiting for an answer Israfil climbed the short steps into her caravan, leaving the painted door open should Cassandra choose to follow.

  Closing the distance without reservation Cassandra couldn't help how her eyes widened at the space within. Far larger and roomier than the outside suggested, Cassandra could practically taste the magic holding it all together. Taking a seat at the small wooden table she folded her hands patiently and watched with sharp eyes as Israfil moved to and fro preparing tea.

  “What's with the bassinet?” she wondered seeing no sign of the baby.

  “Not mine,” Israfil answered airily without taking her focus off the tea.