by Talis Jones
Something about all this rankled Anya's temper. “You would take their side over mine? I am a Whisper! I am a sister of yours through our bond with Oneiroi!”
The onlookers stiffened and glowered at such words but only sadness poured from Cassandra's eyes. “Oh dear Anya, we govern the Jourdies not because we are superior, not to crush them beneath our throne, but to protect them. We are their light, their guide, their guardian. How could you treat them so poorly? Especially the young ones whom are so innocent?”
Anya's irritation held and no apology was proffered by her lips.
“Is she to get away with this?” Someone demanded in disgust.
Before Cassandra could answer a deeper voice stepped forward. “Nyet,” Alexei growled.
Heartache shone in his eyes but Anya's could not cease their coldness. “Oh so now you decide to let me fall? Now you choose not to protect me?”
“You wanted space,” Alexei shrugged. “You wanted to be allowed to live your life and deal with the consequences so here I am, enforcing those consequences.” With a heavy hand and heart he gestured to a trio of Whispers that had followed him to the scene and they strode forwards to escort Anya from the festival.
Anya's protests rose into screams as she was dragged away and only when Cassandra let her magic drop did she collapse into wordless sobs, confusion and shame pressing her shoulders.
Approving nods from the crowd met Cassandra's gaze and she placed a comforting hand upon Alexei's arm. “We do not stand for such lofty, cruel treatment of anyone. I do not stand for it.”
News of the event spread quickly aided by tongues loosened and inspired by drink. Cassandra had won herself more than a few supporters and got a meddlesome sister out of the way to boot.
Night fell but the celebrations never faltered. Fried pastries were devoured, feet never stopped dancing, ale and cider flowed with no end...only the sun seemed to tire of it all.
Kenshin stayed by Cassandra's side, first out of desire but now out of concern. She'd made the rounds several times over, chatting with locals she seemed to know and accepting drinks whenever offered. Each time he tried to take her cup away that blasted raven nipped his fingers and at the sight of blood she only laughed.
He looked for the others hopelessly, even stone-faced Alexei had given in to the fun. Kenshin turned back around to once again attempt to draw Cassandra from the intoxicating crowds that swarmed her but she'd vanished. Alarm sent his blood pounding and he elbowed bodies away as he searched for her. Fireworks lit the jeweled sky, laughter clanged in his ears, bodies jostled him like a sack of potatoes, but he remained focused on his desperate hunt.
A crowd seemed to be gathering around some sort of argument and he headed straight for it, dread sweating his brow. At last breaking through to the front he slid to a halt, frozen by the sight before him. Cassandra, clearly drunk, noticed his arrival and her attention shone a spotlight on him when he'd rather hide.
“Kenshin, this man claims I'm no queen!”
His eyes flickered taking in the man whose neck she held in her grasp and the tense crowd around them. “You aren't a queen, Cassandra,” he reasoned slowly.
“Not you too!” She sighed dramatically. “You are right. Technically. But I could be. There's a whole bloody prophecy about it!”
Now more than a few curious and accusing stares shifted his way. “Oneiroi has no queens or kings, you know that.”
She rolled her eyes. “I have a crown! And magic as strong as Titus'! And I have a vision!”
“Oh a vision, I see,” he played along feeling at a complete loss for how to defuse the situation. “And what might that vision be?”
She grinned sloppily. “To make Oneiroi great.”
A chorus of cheers rose up at that and it caused the hairs on the back of Kenshin's neck to rise. “Is Oneiroi not great already?” She gave him a look that clearly said she thought very little of his intelligence. “And this vision of yours, it requires a queen? Cannot the Council help progress Oneiroi as it always has?”
Laughter so fierce she went breathless overtook her and minutes passed before she wiped the tears from her eyes. “Abel has all the ability for progress as a dusty old boot. And he has all the others in a slumber from his stink! Aaaaall the Whispers just dawdling day to day imprisoned by the ideals of a dull old boot.”
“And am I counted among those numbers?” he couldn't help but ask.
“Oh no,” she shook her head emphatically. “You're securely under my spell,” she giggled with a flutter of her lashes.
Kenshin blushed harder than he ever had before. “Cassandra, porfabór, let's go.”
“I don't want to,” she sniffed. “Not until this man says I'm a queen.”
“Cassandra,” Kenshin pleaded. “You cannot force anyone to bow to you–” The sight of Cassandra's face cut him off, he could see an idea dawning upon her and his panic spiked.
“But I can. Oh for blood's sake how could I forget?” Releasing the man he took great gasps of air, massaging his bruised neck. He only had a moment's reprieve before Cassandra caught his eye. “Bow.”
Kenshin's eyes widened as the man obeyed without protest, a glassy look in his eyes. Cassandra clapped her hands with delight ignorant of the fear and outrage now rippling through the ever larger crowd. “Cassandra,” he begged but that was the only word he managed before she threw her head back and laughed sending her power out further.
The sudden silence flayed him like a whip and the sight of Cassandra's magic broke his heart. Everyone in the square, further even, further than he could know, they all stood frozen and mindless. Children, mothers, fathers, men, women, musicians, vendors, revelers, they all stood with faces slack and waiting. In the frightening stillness he finally spotted the others for only they remained free of whatever spell Cassandra has spun.
Forcing himself to face Cassandra once more he struggled for words, some way to reverse time. “Cassandra,” he moaned softly.
Her laughter stopped as he walked slowly towards her, afraid she might run, afraid she might do something worse, afraid she might throw him into her weave of magic. “I've never felt so good and so tired,” she confessed in awe.
Kenshin forced a smile upon his face and held out his hand. “Let's go.”
Finally she grasped his hand and followed him out of the square, the others quickly catching up while the crowd slowly blinked back to life. Sa had never looked so mortified, so furious.
“Take her back to her room,” he ordered the others. As they pulled away he fixed his gaze on Medusa. “Sa,” he began but she allowed him no more before turning on her heel and storming towards the Whisper citadel. “Sa!” he called.
“Don't even try to defend her, Kenshin,” she warned refusing to break her pace.
Doggedly he followed her to her room, forcing himself inside before she could slam the door in his face. “Listen to me, Sa,” he begged.
“Nyet!”
“Listen!”
Sa crossed her arms and waited but he knew she would not hear. Even so he had to try. His heart begged him to try.
“She was drunk and things got carried away. She's not crazy or evil or anything Abel believes. It was just a mistake, Sa. A mistake, I swear it.” He held his hands out, beseeching her to alter the decision he could see in her eyes.
“This is not her first abuse of power,” Sa told him. “You know more than I what she wants and how unafraid she is to get it. This will not be the end, Kenshin. Surely you can see that.”
“She has a vision,” he muttered weakly.
“Ja, and that vision is painted with blood.” She pulled in a deep breath through her nose and blew it out in an attempt to calm herself. “I have to inform the Council. All the Whispers must be told. We are given our gifts to protect Oneiroi, not carve it for our wants.”
Kenshin could do nothing but shake his head.
“Come with me, Kenshin,” Sa offered sagely. “You were blinded by love, you shouldn't be faulted for t
hat. Come with me as a gesture to make amends to the Council.”
“I can't,” he cried. “I can't.”
Medusa threw him a pitying look. “Fine, then I'll go alone.” She turned her back, reaching for her bag and began to swiftly pack. “But the Council will be told and Cassandra will be banished.”
“NO.” Sa moved to shove past him for the dresser and a wild rage of fear blew all sense from his head as he unsheathed his sword and pierced it through his closest friend's stomach.
Wordless shock froze her face as blood bubbled from her lips. Kenshin released the blade and fell to his knees. “No! Sa!” The Whisper's body tumbled to the floor, her eyes shedding rivers of betrayal.
The door behind him creaked open and he sensed her presence flow around him. His head hung in guilt and shame.
“Kenshin, what's happened,” Cassandra asked without the slightest slur to her speech.
He couldn't bear to look at her and see disappointment on her face. “I didn't mean to.”
Cassandra walked around him and toed Medusa's body. “There's nothing to cry over,” she clipped. “It was an accident and she's a Whisper. She'll be fine.” Reaching down she grasped the hilt of his sword and removed it in one swift pull that left Medusa screaming.
Kenshin forced his legs to move and lift the Whisper onto her bed.
“Here.”
He glanced up and saw Cassandra handing him a roll of bandages. Taking them he quickly wrapped Sa's wound. As a Whisper she would be healed by sunrise. “I'll wait here with her.” Guilt tore at him as mercilessly as a blade.
Cassandra narrowed her eyes in cat-like displeasure. “Look at me.”
He didn't want to but he made himself meet her clear-eyed gaze.
“It was an accident and she'll be fine. Come with me.”
“I should probably stay...”
“Medusa would hate having you play nursemaid, annoying her to death with your needless worry. Now come. You can stay with me if you can't bear to be alone.”
He hesitated but as her soft fingers gently lifted his jaw forcing his gaze to meet hers once more such gentleness lingered in her eyes that he knew he could deny her nothing.
“Come, Kenshin. Come with me,” she breathed.
And he did. Without her magic's command, yet no less weakened, he drifted after her. His hand held in hers he allowed Cassandra to guide him down the hall to her room and there he stayed.
Medusa lay panting as her body slowly healed. Fury at Cassandra's callous, manipulative abuse of her magic boiled her blood. Pain from Kenshin's violent betrayal pierced her just as surely as the wound in her abdomen. Horror, that above all, flooded through her and made her wish to vomit. Horror at how lost Kenshin was around her, at how cold Cassandra could be, and at the potential of such power unleashed before they could stop it.
Did Titus know what sort of person he had chosen to take his place?
She would not wait for the sun to depart. Only until her wound had healed enough to ride would she wait. Abel had been right, some souls could not be swayed.
Chapter 17
On steps that glided like shadows, Kenshin made his way to Sa's room desperate to check on her. He knew she would be fine as Cassandra had promised, after all she was a Whisper, but it had been by his own hands that she suffered and for that he owed her his guilt. Opening the door slowly so as to avoid any noise to awaken her, Kenshin slipped inside only to freeze at the sight before him.
“What are you doing?” he demanded in a harsh whisper.
Sa spared him but a glance before resuming her packing. Limping and wincing as she tossed clothing and papers into her pack she answered, “Leaving.”
Kenshin reached out to yank her arm to force her still but thought better of it, still horrified by what he'd done. “Why?” It was a stupid question and yet it was the single word that managed to pry open his jaw.
Sa whirled on him, fixing Kenshin with a fiery gaze he could see clearly even in candlelight. “Why?”
“No, no I– I know why but...” Too much had happened in too short a time. Kenshin's brain refused to function and frustration began to build in his chest.
Cinching her pack shut Sa sighed heavily. “I have to report her to the Council, Kenshin. You know that.”
“Nyet! Please–”
Sa held up her hand to silence his protests. “I don't want to do it. I never wanted things to come to this. Cassandra made her choices and they have stacked too high to ignore or excuse any longer.” Her gaze turned pitying. “I thought your kindness could protect her from herself. I had hoped that you could show her a new path, a peaceful path. I see now that she'd only ever collected you as a pawn and it breaks my heart that even now you refuse to see it.”
Color flooded his cheeks. “I am not a pawn.”
Sa's smile was small and sorrowful. “She made her choice and now I have made mine. I will not shirk my duty, I will not toss aside my honor, I will not turn my back on Oneiroi, and I must leave now before she wakes. Will you try to stop me?”
Not yet willing to give up the fight he asked, “Many on the Council sensed her darkness. Why did you never use your gift to force out her deepest secrets?”
Sa's lips flattened into a frown but shame only flashed across her face too quick to be certain. “My gift is a severe invasion of privacy and I would never use it on a friend. By the time my suspicions grew I had begun to witness the true strength of her powers and I...I was afraid. More than that I did not want to be right. I was a coward and I shoved all of my excuses and hopes upon your shoulders praying that you could save her and spare me the guilt for being so blind and afraid. I was wrong, Kenshin, and I am so sorry.”
Kenshin turned his face away. “I've destroyed us,” he whispered almost as if to himself.
“Come with me, Kenshin,” Sa offered with hope daring to bloom in her eyes. “Come with me and save yourself.”
A tear unbidden rolled down his cheek. “I cannot.”
“If you stay by her side then you will be punished as surely as she will be upon Titus' return.”
At last he met her eyes once more and the trembling emotions within made her heart ache. “And yet if I leave then she is utterly doomed.”
“It is too late for her,” Sa insisted. She and Kenshin had been friends for too long to allow this to be their ending.
He shrugged. “Then it is too late for me.”
Sensing further argument would not sway him, Sa slung her pack onto her shoulders. “Will you stop me?”
The moment hung thick in the air but with a small shake of his head Kenshin stepped aside. Just as Sa reached the door he murmured, “I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”
Her gaze felt warm yet resigned. “I know.” And with that she was gone.
Cassandra's satisfaction practically beamed from her eyes as she moved through the winding streets. A certain seer had been trying to corner her but she wasn't ready to let their little game of cat and mouse end just yet. No she wanted more time to settle herself in the news a secret little village bird had shared while the morning sky was still gray. Kenshin had slipped out early and she'd let him knowing he needed to see Medusa for himself. She expected the Whisper to be long gone by now, scurrying back to the others no less frightened than a mouse, but a visit from Kenshin would bring no harm if he caught her before her escape.
No, the only thing occupying Cassandra's thoughts at present were the outcomes of last night's display. Had she been tipsy? Yes, and it had taken a damn many drinks to get even that far as her Whisper blood worked tirelessly to combat the effects of alcohol. Not that falling into a shameful drunken state had been her goal, but she'd been observing the wild abandon of the Jourdies and needed just a touch of influence for herself to truly imitate their looseness of tongue and limb. If it hadn't been her intention then she'd dwell on the insult of how no Whisper questioned her intoxicated state.
“Losing control” of her magic would be excused by her friends because sh
e'd simply been drunk and high on festive spirits, but she'd spent that festival mingling with the people. Travelers, locals, greenies, veterans, and all listened, argued, and considered her words. Hidden in shadow they'd watched as she'd defended their children from Anya, choosing them over one of her own simply for being a Whisper, and they'd watched as she'd seized control of an entire square of revelers. According to the little bird with whom she met, some feared her while others felt adequately impressed. Regardless of the wariness still lingering in the minds of a few, their message had been simple: We watch and wait for your move. We shall follow.
Infiltrating and slowly steering the Council towards her ideas could not match the eager pace in her blood and this would be her new path. She could practically hear the approaching roar of rapids that would do their best to capsize her plans and block her path. Yes, this journey would test her mettle and she welcomed it. It would require quick reflexes, a focused mind, and an inner strength that matched the river she'd chosen.
Cassandra was oddly calm, feeling no worry over success or failure. Either she would prove worthy or she would fall, but there would be no change in course. Not now.
Chapter 18
In the heart of Circ de Apa, a permanent carnival stood proud. Even this early in the morning there were people hurrying between tents and laughing as they either worked or played. Cassandra slowed her steps, feigning a meandering stroll, and within moments a hand snatched her elbow, yanking her to a halt.
“Feuer,” Israfil hissed, urgency clear in her eyes.
“Need you grab me like this?” Cassandra sighed. “You could have simply called.”
“And expect you to answer? Ha!” The woman spat.
“Well I'm here now. What is it you so urgently need to tell me?”
Israfil looked over her shoulder, her eyes scanning the gently bustling carnival around them. “Not here.”