Fallen King

by Olive Creed

  He screamed.

  His throat—torn from the battle and burned by this young man—hurt more than the pain in his leg and hand and rivaled his stomach. His voice went out, trailing into a raspy hiss. Torrin took a shuddering breath as the heated metal was removed from his stomach.

  A girl appeared over him, horror twisting her features half hidden by a wave of pink.

  Black washed over him as he slipped into unconsciousness.

  The last thing Briley had expected to find when she’d stopped by her cabin to pack her things was two Elyndian men. She stared at the one on the floor. His face and most of his neck had been cauterized. A line of stitches ran under his chin and above his collarbone, his hand was wrapped in a bloody towel.

  Briley swallowed, shuddering and willing her stomach to stay in place. She couldn’t bear to look at the rest of him. The panicked part of her urged her to grab her things and leave before enemy soldiers found her. But she couldn’t even walk away from an injured sparrow. How could she just leave these two men here?

  Her hands shook a little as she knelt, glancing up at the uninjured one. He was still practically a boy. And though she could see the distrust and hesitancy in his eyes as clearly as she could in a wild animal, there was pain and... something else, something dark, that tugged on her heartstrings.

  “I can help you.” The words slipped out before she could even think about them carefully. Though she doubted he would take advantage of her, all things considered. And maybe if she helped, he wouldn’t think she was an enemy. “I, I don’t know about healing, but..."

  He looked up sharply, something flickering in his eyes before he ducked his head.

  So far so good. He wasn’t screaming “Demon” and trying to kill her.

  Briley turned her attention back to the man on the floor. By the looks of the bloody rags piled up beside him, he’d lost too much blood. “Do you have any knowledge of healing? I mean, other than cauterizing and stitching.”

  He nodded, then shook his head and shrugged. She sighed. Neither of them knew enough to save this man’s life. They needed help. She bit her lip. “Look, we’re gonna need someone who can help him.”

  He raised an eyebrow, studying her. After a moment he waved his hand at her, motioning for her to go.

  “Me?” Her throat bobbed. “I can’t... Everdon’s full of enemy soldiers! They’d kill me—”

  The boy speared her with a look, silencing her.

  “I, I suppose they’d kill you too. But I don’t know anything about sneaking.”

  He never so much as blinked.

  She sighed, rubbing her arm and dropping her gaze back to the one on the floor. She couldn’t just leave. A Believer wasn’t supposed to turn their back on someone in need. And if she did, if she fled to Zaraya without helping them...

  No. Her grandparents would be ashamed of her. She’d have failed them and God. Failed her people. She had to help them.

  Briley tiptoed through the forest. Birds and small dragons chirped and whistled in the treetops, their movements shaking the branches and knocking raindrops onto her. A few rabbits raced through the brush. To her left, she could hear the slow, heavy tread of the white-tailed deer that had been following her ever since she first entered the forest.

  Thunder rumbled overhead and Briley glanced up at the sounds of raindrops pelting into the foliage above her. The thick canopy sheltered her from most of the rain, though several fat drops did work their way through the leaves to drop onto her upturned face.

  Briley paused, turning to stare in the direction of the whitetail. “Look, deer, I’m not here to hunt.” She spread out her arms, hands wide, and turned in a circle slowly. “See? No weapons. I’m just heading to the city for a healer. I promise I’m not here to cause trouble.” That said, she resumed her careful trek.

  A spiny pink dragon barely the size of her foot scrambled out onto a log in front of her and bared its tiny fangs. Six little babies—their spines still limp and floppy flaps of skin—marched out in a row and all seven of the dragons disappeared beneath a bush in their hurry to find shelter. Briley was surprised they were out. Usually, when humans entered the forest, the dragons disappeared. The battle that had taken place earlier today must have disrupted their peaceful lives.

  She caught sight of the deer peeking out between the foliage. He was larger than normal whitetails, a small rack of horns adorning his delicate head. His black nose twitched as they stood, staring each other in the eye. He turned his head and stomped his hoof.

  An idea came to mind. The animals could be a huge asset—they could help keep an eye out for soldiers and warn her if any were coming to the cabin. And they could help obliterate the tracks she made so nobody could follow her.

  A tiny spark of hope lit inside her chest. Maybe this wouldn’t be doomed from the start.

  Briley held out her hand. “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” she said quietly.

  He jerked his head back, his ears swiveling back and forth.

  “I know you’re Anatheman.” She kept her voice quiet and her hand outstretched, palm up and fingers close together, so they wouldn’t look like claws. She switched to her native tongue. “I know you can understand me and you can speak my language as well as I can.”

  He glanced at her sideways, stepping back and pawing the ground with a dainty hoof. He raised his head. “How do you know about us?”

  She smiled briefly. “I’m half Anatheman. Raevyn Aliki knows me.”

  He huffed a sigh. “Aklin warned us not to speak with you humans.”

  “Well, I won’t say anything. Look, I have a proposition to make you.” She glanced in the direction of Everdon. “Can we talk and walk at the same time?”

  He bobbed his head, moving alongside her but always staying a few yards away. Briley outlined her idea, silently praying he would agree.

  The young buck dipped his head to keep his antlers from catching in the low-hanging branches. “Our scouts kept us informed about the battle.” He paused to sniff at a clump of berries. “I would have to speak with Aklin, but I would not mind helping you in exchange for food and shelter during the winter months.”

  She climbed over a fallen tree. “I can’t promise the food. That depends on if I’m able to trade in Everdon—which I doubt. But I can promise the shelter, providing you don’t mind bunking with a few goats and an old donkey.”

  “Then I shall speak with my friends.” He bounded up to walk alongside her. “So how come you are out alone,unarmed? No claws or fangs or horns or pack to protect you? Are your males bound by code as well? Are they not allowed to attack females?”

  She smiled. “Some of them, yes. But I’m here because I have to get a healer. Now, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m afraid I’ll have to hurry and—”

  “You may ride on my back.” He jumped in front of her. “I am strong and fast and can carry you.” He knelt, holding still as she eased onto his back. The minute Briley was settled, he bounded through the woods.

  “You’re going to get caught one of these days,” Peter grumbled.

  “Uh-huh.” Roscoe bit the inside of his cheek, focusing on picking the lock of the jailhouse. “Just keep an eye outside, please.”

  “I don’t know why I’m even helping you.” Peter leaned against the open door, watching the streets. Everdon was by far the largest town he’d seen in Elyndia and yet it was still significantly smaller than the small towns in Achia.

  “Frankly, I don’t either. But I am grateful.” Roscoe grinned in satisfaction when the lock clicked. He pushed open the metal door and slipped inside, closing it behind him.

  Two rows of cells lined the stone walls. Each cell held three people, most of them women. Two were children and he saw one young man.

  “Here to gloat, soldier?” one of the captives snapped. She wrapped her hands around the bars, fire burning in her brown eyes.

  “No ma’am. You won’t believe me, but I’m here to set you free.” He hurried over, getting to work on
the first lock. “The king’s gonna ship you guys out in a few hours. Right now will be the perfect time to escape, since the whole city’s kind of in chaos right now.”

  Another girl joined the first. They looked nearly identical. “Why are you helping us?”

  “That’s a long story he ain’t told anybody,” Peter called softly. “Best you don’t waste time tryin’ to get it out of him.”

  The first woman speared him with a look. “It could be a trap, Aurora,” she said softly.

  Roscoe shrugged. “I don’t have a way of proving to you that it ain’t. It’s your choice, ma’am.” He moved on to the next lock. “All I can do is get these unlocked. Getting out of town on your own is up to you.”

  “And where would we go?” the young man demanded. “Corynth’s taken over the whole country.”

  “Surely you know a good place to hide out and lay low.” Peter strode inside, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

  “The mountain borders,” Aurora murmured. “They could search there for months and never find us.”

  Roscoe paused. The mountain borders were nearly a country of their own, with plenty of danger. Going there was almost as bad as staying here.

  Peter turned to go back to his post, slapping Roscoe on the back as he went. Roscoe flinched and almost dropped his lockpicking tools. He hurried to unlock the cells, then stepped back. “Okay. You’re free, the rest is up to you.” He turned and slipped into the office.

  Peter nodded and the two strode outside, closing the door behind them. Catnip was waiting for them outside, clutching a piece of bread in her front claws. She flew over, perching on Roscoe’s head and dropping crumbs in his hair.

  “Gee, thanks,” he grumbled, stepping over a sleeping mutt. The streets were crowded with the soldiers cleaning up their mess and carrying the wounded to the healers.

  “Did you see any Anathemans here?” Peter kept his voice low, barely audible.

  Roscoe sidestepped around a young boy. “Yeah. One.” He rubbed the back of his neck. There was nothing in particular about the woman that had stood out. He’d seen half-breeds before. Granted, Anatheman half-breeds were few and far between, but it had happened before. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d seen her a long time ago.

  Peter clapped him on the back, making him jump again. “I’m going to find my boy. You be careful, ya hear?”

  Roscoe forced a grin. “Yeah. Same to you.” There was always the possibility of a riot breaking out, of someone trying to avenge the death of a loved one.

  He shook himself, forcing back the memories that train of thought brought up and turned down the street.

  Two hours later, they reached Everdon. Briley slipped off his back, coiling her braid into a bun and then untying her apron and folding it into a strange bonnet handkerchief contraption. It wasn’t a foolproof way to cover her hair, but hopefully at just a casual glance, nobody would think twice.

  “Why do you do that, human?”

  She smiled wryly. “I’m afraid the people within those walls would kill me if they knew I was half Anatheman.”

  His ears flicked. “Why do you stay here if you are hunted?”

  “I don’t live here. I live in a cabin in the woods with my grandparents. But the healer lives here.” She stroked his sleek shoulder. “Hide in the woods, make sure their dragons do not find you. In fact, you might as well go back home. You may be strong, but I don’t think you can carry both me and the healer.” She trotted towards the city walls.

  Briley paused just outside the massive wooden gates to make sure her pink hair was completely hidden by the makeshift bonnet. Ruslan—the healer—lived just a few blocks away from the main gate. He was good friends with her grandfather, Jasiel. Surely he would help her. She took a deep breath, smoothed her hair, and slipped through.

  The streets were full of soldiers.

  Even though she’d known the Achians would be here and had mentally prepared herself during her trip, the sight still made her heart jolt in her chest. If they looked close enough, saw the prominent cheekbones, or if her hair worked its way free, she’d be filled with arrows in a heartbeat or burned at the stake like her mema.

  Briley swallowed her fear and the unwanted memories and weaved through the crowd, spotting a few familiar faces in the sea of helmeted men. The soldiers were an equal mix of Achians and Kyrnians.

  Interesting. As far as she knew, Achians tended to stick to themselves. Why they had teamed up with the giant prairie-dwellers and invaded Elyndia was beyond her.

  She made it to Ruslan’s infirmary with no trouble and eased inside.

  The old healer scurried from one enemy patient to the next. Bandaging, cleaning, sewing. Blood stained his clothes and hands and even streaked his silvery beard.

  Another soldier, unharmed as far as Briley could tell, stood back in a corner out of the way, one hand on his sword. He lacked the armor the Achians outside wore. Instead, he wore a simple, leather jerkin with the name Zell imprinted on the right shoulder.

  She paused. ... an Elyndian helping the Achians? A traitor?

  His brown eyes locked on her. Briley bit her lip, tore her gaze away, and tried to calm her racing heart by focusing on the other problem. Ruslan would be forced to stay here and tend to the wounded. She glanced around the room. Ruslan’s apprentice and her friend, Zeno, was nowhere in sight. She ducked her head and eased through the room.

  “Where are you going?” The soldier’s voice cut through the sounds of groaning men and running footsteps and the muted outside noise.

  Briley froze, taking quick breaths. “Um, I need some more bandages. The other infirmary ran out of linen.” She squirmed inwardly. The lie had slipped out easily. Too easily.

  When the man nodded, she scurried into the backroom and right into Zeno’s solid chest.

  He caught her arm before she could stumble back, pulling her away from the door. “Why are you here?” he hissed, dark eyes full of concern. He stepped forward and eased the door shut. “You’ll be in big trouble if you’re caught.”

  Briley motioned for him to lean down and whispered, “There’s a young man in my cabin. He’s alive, but barely. I can’t help him and neither can the boy there with him. So I came to get help.”

  “And Ruslan won’t be leaving any time soon.” Zeno ran a hand over his face, thinking. He turned, grabbed a knapsack, and began loading it with medical supplies.

  She stood watching him as he hurried about the room grabbing various items. “Did you happen to notice—”

  “The traitor Elyndian, yes.” He nodded, pausing by a cabinet of jars and running his fingers over the labels.

  “Do you think you’d be in trouble?” She reached up to check that her apron was still covering her hair and pressed her ear against the door. “You being Achian. Would Corynth... do something?”

  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “It’s likely. Corynth demands complete loyalty. And when I refused to obey my orders—refused to burn down a home full of innocent children—I made him an enemy.”

  “But... that was two years ago,” Briley protested.

  He shrugged. “I doubt time matters. An enemy is an enemy.”

  “Now that Corynth has Elyndia..."

  “I’m just going to pray he doesn’t send men looking for me.” Zeno shivered as he checked off the items in the knapsack. He slung it over his shoulders and raked his hand through wavy black hair. “Everdon is my home. You are my friend. Ruslan is like my uncle. I’m not going to leave them.”

  Briley walked over and reached up, squeezing his shoulder. “I’ll pray with you. Now let’s go take care of that young man.”

  “Wait.” He tugged off her apron, snatching his cap off the hat-rack by the door and plopping it onto her head. It was too big, sliding down over her eyes, but it covered her hair better.

  She followed him out of the back door. They nearly ran into the back of an Achian soldier. Zeno ducked behind a stack of water barrels just as the soldi
er turned around.

  Briley flashed the soldier an apologetic smile and dipped her head, scurrying around him. She had to get him to move, so Zeno could sneak away. She swiped her sweaty palms across her blue bodice and scanned her surroundings. She was so busy looking for a way to cause a distraction she didn’t notice the Kyrnian until she walked into him. Briley stumbled back, tripping over a stray goose, which let out a startled sound like a honk and a squawk before running away.

  “Watch where you’re going,” the soldier snarled, grabbing her upper arm and jerking her to her feet.

  She stammered out an apology. “I-I’ll take better, um, care to watch where I’m going.”

  “Are you mocking me?” he demanded, yanking her closer.

  “No! I wasn’t. I—”

  “Leave her alone.” The soldier from behind the infirmary shoved against the one squeezing her arm. “Our orders are to keep an eye on everyone, not harass young women.”

  The second soldier glowered and grumbled a heinous curse under his breath before shoving Briley away from him.

  She quickly caught her balance, boots slipping in the mud. She smiled her thanks at the first soldier and hurried away, heading back the way she’d came. When she reached the infirmary, Briley glanced over her shoulder and looked around. Nobody was watching. The soldiers were moving away. She eased over to the barrels. “It’s all clear.”

  Zeno peeked up over the barrels and checked the area for himself before walking out from behind them. Together, they darted down the streets and made it through the gates without any further delay.

  Cyprian stood quietly in the corner of King Corynth’s new study as he gave orders to his generals, only half paying attention. A handful of soldiers stood beside the kid, shifting and glancing from him to Corynth, as if unsure who to fear more. Cyprian rested his hand on the hilt of his dagger, grinning inwardly as they flinched away from him.

  Had the young lady and the healer been successful in saving King Torrin’s life? Or had he already died?