Of Blood and Deceit

by Rachel A. Collett

  “Careful, girl,” the female guard said, her arms outstretched to guide the bird that stood two heads taller than her. It cast a furtive glance my direction then allowed itself to be shepherded.

  Before I could reclaim my breath, another feral squall pierced the air. Castiel opened his arms to a third as it landed directly in front of him. The most beautiful of the trio, its pure black wings flailed wildly as it tried to steady itself. I backed against the wall, aware of their keen senses. I would be their next meal.

  “Ilianna, meet my most trusted messengers,” Castiel said, his voice strained. “They are—”

  “Falcry,” I croaked. I knew what they were, but the falcry were supposed be extinct, killed off with the magicians who owned them.

  Three monstrous birds of prey perched within the room and flapped impatient wings.

  I clenched nervous fingers behind my back and took a step forward, bracing against the fear. “That one’s much smaller than the others.” But not by much. She still stood taller than the prince, with piercing eyes of liquid gold.

  Castiel stroked the feathered neck, and she bent in to him, nuzzling his cheek. “She’s the baby.” But the bird squawked, indignant at the description.

  “They’re terrifying, aren’t they?” the king said. He moved from his stolen dais of power, but kept his arms safely tucked to his side as he skirted the fowl to stand near his brother. “The largest bird known to our continent. Their feathers are stronger than any shield ever crafted, their talons sharp as knives. She can see miles into the distance. A nearly impenetrable foe and fiercely loyal to their owners, so be careful, Princess. If they don’t trust you, they’ll rip your arms off and eat them for a snack.”

  I took a step back. The falcry weren’t completely impenetrable. Our history books proved that. Their eyes were targets, as were soft spots just beneath their wings, to the inside, close to their body. But to hit those marks while the creature was in flight you needed an expert bowman, and even then your chances were rare.

  Less than five minutes later, I was excused. I huffed an annoyed breath as I followed the female guard to my room. The sun was high, emphasizing the grounds in a beautiful palette of color. My body ached to be outdoors investigating the gardens, river, and beyond. But I would never be able to enjoy them. Not until I was safe, far away from Johan.

  Not until Lucan was dead.

  I doused the fear that threatened to bring me to my knees.

  Castiel and Riaan had scoured maps and took note of all the locations I knew Lucan would hit. Missives were drawn, the information within kept from my traitorous eyes. The prince whispered instructions in an unknown language to his falcry, but I was dismissed after asking what.

  “It’s not as if I didn’t help find the spy or anything,” I groused.

  Melia huffed a laugh, a deep chuckle that hummed in her throat. Female guards were not unheard of, but rare even in Eira. I had been a warrior since twelve but being in the presence of another felt strange.

  “It’s still yet to be seen whether your help was actually useful. Don’t forget, Princess. You have not earned the king’s trust by betraying your country.”

  I ignored the comment the best I could, and instead allowed the heat of the sting to fuel me. Melia was taller than me, but not by much. Barely an advantage. But she was older than me by at least five years. That could be problematic. Depending on how early she began her instruction and how vigorous the armies of Anolyn trained, she could have the upper hand against me.

  I took a deep breath. “I don’t need his trust to know what the king will do.”

  “Oh?”

  I paused at a window to admire a garden and allowed my vision to drift to the blue sky beyond. “The youngest falcry will obviously be sent right away.” She regarded me with raised brows but said nothing. “The bird is small enough not to gain too much attention, but sufficiently strong to carry missives to waiting men.”

  “And what makes you think you know this?”

  I jerked my chin in the direction of the forest. By now the younger falcry was a dot on the horizon, but still recognizable. Melia hummed a noncommittal sound, but her eyes narrowed.

  I continued. “The others will have to wait until nightfall. Think of how your people would react if they were to see such extinct creatures soaring above their cities.”

  “It’s your people who think they’re extinct, not mine. Mine are still in hopes that there might be a few left—a few your people haven’t slaughtered.” Anger and possibly hatred tinged her words.

  I had found a chink in her armor.

  I folded my arms. “The purge wasn’t directed toward the falcry, only the magicians that infested our lands.”

  And it was true. My kingdom was one of the reasons why most magicians were nonexistent. The falcry were casualties of war. Covetous and cowardly, magic users worked their powers to manipulate mortals to their advantage. They could live hundreds of years, inflicting the population with their curse. Tired of their abuse, my great-grandparents battled against those who displayed the ability to wield anything more than a sword. Hundreds had been slaughtered. Those that remained fled into remote parts of the world. My ancestors would have followed them to the end of the earth if karma hadn’t sent them reeling.

  My father, Prince Toma, was born. A magician.

  My father and Johan’s parents had tried to keep it hidden and failed. When their son came of age, they set in place a law banning the inhumane killing and torture of magicians.

  Which is why the infestation managed to seep back into the continent.

  My father was a magician. And my uncle wanted me to be one.

  Of course, I didn’t find that out until later, when my uncle’s desire for me to become what I had grown to fear pushed him to lunacy. I shook my head at the thought and turned to Melia. “Will the little one—”

  “Ketrina.”

  “What?”

  “Her name is Ketrina.”

  It was a strange name for a bird. Too normal. Too human. “After Ketrina returns, will she then go with the others when it grows dark?”

  “No. She’s still too young and impulsive. If there’s danger, she won’t think rationally. There’s too much risk she could be hurt.”

  I smiled despite the internal warning not to. “Will your king be happy to know you’ve divulged such information?”

  Her gaze morphed to hard steel. “Maybe if you start seeing these creatures as living things with intelligence and feeling, you won’t be so quick to hurt them.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ve never hurt them.”

  “I’m not really worried you will.” She spun, moving in the opposite direction. Hesitantly, I followed. “They know you now. If you betray them, they’ll kill you.”

  “They don’t know me.”

  “Falcry are incredibly intelligent. They need only a second to size you up, darling. I wonder what they saw.”

  Fear, that’s what—although I wouldn’t tell her that. “I have no reason to tell anyone about the ugly birds.”

  She hummed a warning. “And they’re very sensitive. You better hope they didn’t hear that.”

  I huffed a laugh, pretending to be unconcerned. At the same time, my eyes scanned the hallways for enormous birds of prey—monsters, straight from texts of ancient folklore, that waited to rip out my bowels.

  After another turn we entered another unfamiliar hall and then descended a flight of stairs. “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

  A minute later, a clatter so familiar tossed me in such sweet nostalgia that I could have cried: the clashing of weapons, and with those weapons, muffled voices. Without a moment’s hesitation, Melia threw a door wide. I inhaled deeply the thick aroma of leather, metal, dirt, sweat, and blood. She smiled, walking backward. “This is our training room, Lady Anna, and just beyond that door is our outdoors arena. I thought maybe you’d enjoy getting a closer peek at the king’s militia—or wh
at’s here, that is.”

  I swallowed nervously as eyes shifted to her and the stranger she dragged with her. Melia smiled like a cat with a prize, waltzing through the room as if she owned it, and nodded to those that acknowledged her. Curiosity brewed at the surface of every man’s face as we traipsed through their ranks.

  “Carry on,” she said. They did as they were told but continued to steal glances at me through their periphery.

  So she was someone high-ranking. Interesting.

  She moved to another door and opened it. Sun streamed in on an afternoon current, momentarily blinding me. When my eyes adjusted, I was staring at more than a hundred soldiers, all scantily dressed in what I assumed was their practice gear.

  “Why don’t they have any clothes on?” I tried to pretend not to be bothered by such a thing as a bare chest, but the heat in my cheeks expanded nonetheless.

  Melia smirked, speaking low. “This is Anolyn, Princess. You can’t expect them to practice in their full gear amid balmy temperatures all of the time.”

  I huffed my disagreement. “I see you’re not really taking my cover very seriously.”

  She tsked, but another voice cut into the conversation.

  “Lady Anna makes a good point, Captain.” Reese had come from behind us. He was similarly dressed as the others in only pants and boots.

  My eyes grew large when the sun gleamed from the expanse of a dark chest, hulking muscles, and piercings I had never seen before. I tried to hide my shock at such a barbaric display. “Some of these men might know who she is,” Reese said.

  She waved a flagrant hand. “These men are too young to know her.”

  “Still, it’s an order.”

  I lifted the end of my braid, examining the tips of my hair. “Maybe her loyalty only goes so far.”

  Her hand gripped my wrist. Before I could respond, she pulled me a step closer. Her eyes flashed to mine. “I take loyalty very seriously. I’m as loyal as the grave. Never doubt that, Lady Anna.”

  I yanked hard from her grasp. “Call me whatever you like, Captain. I can take care of myself.”

  Slowly she circled, examining me.

  “Melia,” Reese’s voice warned.

  “Resume your post,” she said in a snap.

  “My post is here.”

  She tsked. “Poor thing. You’ve been assigned to watch over this traitor? I almost feel bad for you.”

  “Traitor?”

  “Isn’t that what you are?” She leaned forward, whispering close to my ear. “I’ve heard such fascinating rumors of a child warrior from Eira—that’s what I was. But then those rumors changed from child warrior to Demon Daughter. Scourge. Wraith. With each description, the stories became more unbelievable than the next.”

  “You’re right.”

  “You claim none of those titles?”

  “As you said, they’re utterly unbelievable.” I opened my arms wide. “Clearly.”

  “I’ve long waited to meet you in battle, but alas, was unblessed in such a thing.”

  My mouth clamped shut, my eyes narrowed.

  “Well?” she asked, baiting me. “Are you a warrior or not? Or is everything I heard just rumors?”

  “I think that’s enough, Captain,” Reese said, interjecting.

  “It’s alright.” I fixed my gaze to his, but he nearly jumped back, avoiding my eyes. Instead, he seized my wrist and guided me away. I was too shocked to do anything but follow several yards before he stopped.

  “Let go,” I said, yanking from his grasp.

  Melia’s laughter followed us. “Come, Lady Anna. Won’t you spar with me?” I peered over my shoulder. Someone had given her a wooden knife. She tossed it between her hands.

  Reese peered over my shoulder. “She’s baiting you.”

  I narrowed my gaze. “I know what she’s doing.”

  His eyes flashed to mine, then away again. “I’m your guard during the duration of your stay. I will return you to your room.”

  “Look at me,” I said.

  His voice was barely more than a whisper. “No. I will not allow you to curse me again.” Obviously, he hadn’t told Castiel or the king, or he would not be alive to champion me. My heart softened a degree.

  “I won’t curse you. I didn’t curse you in the first place.”

  Confusion marred his brow, but he finally turned his gaze upon me. “You will not trick me again?”

  “No. You will not stop me?”

  One brow lifted. “Melia is baiting you, but what you choose to do about it is up to you. I believe you have a right to defend your honor.”

  I nodded, turning away.

  Melia smiled like a feral cat cornering a mouse.

  I opened my arms. “I’m at a disadvantage, don’t you think?”

  “Oh, please.” She flipped the knife, catching it by the tip. “Don’t tell me a simple dress will stop—”

  I whirled, knocking the wooden stick from her grasp. It thumped against the castle’s stone wall unceremoniously.

  I crouched low. “Now we’re even.”

  She smirked, and I lunged.

  Dungeons

  I wiped the blood that seeped from my nose with the back of my hand. It smeared across cut knuckles.

  Melia grimaced. “That’s disgusting.” Her blonde hair, which had started out nice and high in her usual ponytail, was halfway down and matted to the side of her cheek. It looked ridiculous. Not that mine was any better.

  I laughed at her purpled eye and split lip. “No more disgusting than your face.”

  She laughed with me.

  It had been almost two weeks since Castiel left with over a dozen soldiers to locate and capture Lucan. During that two weeks there wasn’t a day that my stomach didn’t twist into knots imagining the worst. I couldn’t bear to wait in my room to learn his fate or mine, but Melia had helped ease that anxiety by giving me something to look forward to: a good fight.

  Weapons were never allowed, and I was searched every time before we began, but that never bothered me.

  An uppercut knocked me and my thoughts off balance. I shook off the hit. She was good. I wouldn’t last long against her, but it felt wonderful being in control. A circle of soldiers surrounded us, calling instructions. They blended together, too muddled to be heard. Sweat poured from my body and dripped in all the wrong places. Muscles ached, but the ache made me feel alive. I cleaned my knuckles on the back of the old pair of pants Melia lent me.

  Her fist cracked against my mouth, but mine found a mark on her chin.

  She worked her jaw, testing it. “Better.”

  It was the biggest compliment she had given me yet. She leaped forward with a quick jab. I blocked it only to receive a same-handed hook to the ribs. My breath seized before I could cinch up my muscles. I tucked my elbows close for protection and braced for impact to wait out the storm that was Melia.

  I had almost memorized her attacks. She was rhythmic, her fighting skills like a dance. I wondered what song she listened to in her head to influence the almost poetic movements. When I found the break in her rhythm, I threw my arms around her neck and slammed my knee into her stomach followed by a double-right-hook, and then left. A satisfying grunt from Melia caused me to smile.

  She leaped back and away to distance herself from my blows. “You got out of that a lot quicker than usual,” she said.

  I pretended not to be excited by the praise, but something akin to warmth pattered from my heart.

  Melia crouched low, preparing her next attack. “You should come visit Ketrina with me today.”

  And that warmth left quicker than it had come.

  I mirrored her movements. “So you can feed me to her?”

  The smallest of the falcry had been a frequent guest during our training. At first her presence had unsettled me, but the creature never stayed long, becoming quickly bored by our activities.

  Melia pished. “Falcry don’t generally eat mortals. They prefer sheep or goats. But I think she likes you.”


  The captain of the guard was trying to distract me, and it was working. I clenched my sore fists. I was better with a knife or a sword—not that she would ever let me near any weapons to prove it—but Melia was better than me in hand-to-hand combat. It was a weakness of mine. Any time I got close to winning against one of my uncle’s captains I was always punished for it. She was different.

  Taking advantage of my unfocused thoughts, she rushed me, knocking me to the ground. Her forearm pressed like a vice against my throat.

  “What have I told you?” she asked, her voice a hiss in my ear. “I can practically read when your thoughts wander. You leave yourself open.”

  I tapped against her arm to admit defeat, but she didn’t release.

  “What are you going to do when this is real? When the next one—”

  “Melia! Stand down!” At first I almost didn’t recognize his voice, but it was Castiel’s anger that shot through the space, halting our fight.

  She released my neck. Before I could even take a breath, she yanked me from the ground. My world spun on its axis. The group of soldiers that had, only seconds before, stood around us in a tight ring had disappeared without a trace. I forced my vision to focus as the prince stormed toward us, his aura radiating anger.

  “What is the meaning of this, Captain?”

  Reese trailed him, his face ashen.

  Our breathing was ragged. Blood leaked from her mouth, but more dripped from my nose.

  She stood erect. “Your Highness...”

  But he didn’t seem to be interested in her response. His fingers grabbed my chin, forcing it high to better inspect my face. Was that concern in his eyes?

  I tried to pull away from him, but his other hand seized my arm. My eyes grew wide; my jaw clamped down. “Let go of me,” I said through clenched teeth.

  Something clicked inside of him. He dropped his hand to the side. I hadn’t seen him in nearly two weeks, but that time had not been friendly to him. A beard thickened his jaw; dirt smudged the exposed skin. My thoughts instantly went to Lucan and anxiety rallied once again.