Rise of the Sparrows (Relics of Ar'Zac #1) (23 page)

Cephy felt ready to explode. Inside, her source of magic was boiling, begging for release. She pulled at it one more time and threw it towards the hay bale.

A deafening explosion filled the forest. Hungry flames lit up the immediate area, devouring everything in their way. Aeron acted immediately, extinguishing the fire and renewing the hay with a wave of her hand.

“Now you know. You still love Rachael, my Fox, but Rachael would kill you in an instant if given the chance.”

Her heart aching Cephy shook her head. “I don't. If Rachael...” She couldn't bring herself to finish. Rachael was prepared to kill her, so Cephy needed to be prepared to do the same thing.

“I'm sorry, my Fox. I wanted to spare you the burden of knowledge, but you deserved to know the truth. Never forget how hearing her promise made you feel. Use it with your magic and the Sparrow won't get a chance to lift that sword at you.”

With new determination Cephy smiled. Aeron was right. First her own family had discarded her like trash, then her neighbours and friends had alerted the White Guard, and now even Rachael wanted her dead—all because she had magic.

This war had to end, but it wouldn't end well for those who had hurt her.

Grateful that no one could see him weep, King Aeric rested his head in one hand as he sank down on to his bed. He had sworn an oath to protect his people when he had accepted the crown. That crown now rested uncomfortably on his head, as did the oath. They were a burden intent on ruining him, nothing more.

A month had passed since Aeron had unleashed atrocities on to his people. Fifty people had died since, most of which had killed themselves publicly for everyone to see. His people were frightened, and they demanded answers he didn't dare give. His city was in chaos, and he had no way of helping them.

Unless damned Cale Spurling, leader of those blasted Sparrows, came forward already and gave himself up. He did not dare hope. Cale's indifference, his lack of action, had proven to him how little the Sparrow cared for his people. Many more would die if he continued to wait for Cale to turn himself in. Cale didn't care, but he was still their King and he cared a great deal. His people had suffered enough, and he wanted things to return to normal more than anything.

His stomach churned just thinking about some of the deaths he himself had witnessed. A young girl with her infant son, throwing herself off a rooftop in the busy market square. A child no older than five, who had thrown himself in front of horses in full gallop. An elderly woman—revered for her aid and healing skills—gutted herself during her daughter's wedding ceremony by the altar.

All fifty people had possessed the curse of magic which had befallen his people. He had wanted the war to stop, and for magic to be harmless to his worried subjects, but he had never wanted this. The suicides were no longer restricted to his city, either. They had spread across his country. Reports were coming in of traders, merchants, inn keepers and parents of large families who killed themselves in the most monstrous fashions.

And it was all his fault. Why had he ever believed that they needed the help of that which they wanted to eradicate? If he had not gotten Aeron involved, his people would yet live. The body count was no longer accurate. With more people dying every day over the country there was no way to know for sure how many were dead.

He had failed his people. Magic had to end, but this was no longer humane. Even the worst criminal deserved a sense of humanity, a trial, yet he denied his subjects even that. Not only them, but their families, too.

And in all this chaos, Cale still refused to come forward. Rubbing an itch on his head, the king had to wonder if it still mattered. Would Aeron end the curse she had unleashed? She seemed to revel in its cruelty. Sadly, so did his commander. That man was blissfully happy these days, overjoyed with the horrors of sadistic slaughter.

Disgusted with himself and the methods he had stooped down to, he wept for the souls of the people who had once believed in him. Suicide was an unforgivable crime in the eyes of the Maker, who celebrated life and its joys above all else. They would be refused a seat by his side to forever wander the Dark Mists, and tired King Aeric hated himself for having brought this fate upon them.

To think that not long ago he had been excited to chose a woman as his wife once this war was over. He no longer deserved a crown. How could he believe that he still deserved a wife—or his life, even? He had failed his people. Maybe, when this was all over, he should resign and give up his crown to someone more deserving.

But that would make their deaths pointless. Their suicides should never have happened, but to render them pointless all together—no, he would remain king. He would live a life in pursuit of redemption. It was all he had left, and he owed his people the kingdom so many had given their lives for.

If the Sparrows wanted to take his crown they would have to fight him for it.

“My, if your people could see their Great King Aeric now.”

His blood curdled at the sound of her voice. Furious with her intrusion of his privacy and her continued lack of any manners, he sat up straight and rushed over to her. She deserved a beating as surely as he did not deserve this crown. It was about time she received it.

“Stay your hand, or you will not get the chance at the redemption you're so pathetically desperate for.”

Glaring with a fire that could match hers, he did as she asked. He hated himself for it. This was his palace, these were his people, and he was the damned king, yet she commanded him so easily! Yes, if only his people could see him now. Their remaining faith in him would crumble to dust, seeing him so weak and used.

“My guards were ordered not to let anyone disturb me.”

That self-satisfied smile of hers he loathed so much twisted her face into an obscure obscenity. How had he ever thought her beautiful past her flaws? She was no more desirable than a run-over dog smeared across the gravel, and just as disgusting to the eye.

“Why, my king, if you have skills like mine doors are no obstacles.” He wanted to punch her for her insolence. What of it, if she killed him where he stood? Did he not owe his subjects a better leader? If only he could be sure that she would not seize the crown for herself. He would die in peace, if only he could be sure of that.

“What do you want?” She had never come to him because of some passing fancy. She always wanted or needed something from him—although he no longer believed that lie. Had she ever truly needed his help? This curse she had spread proved that she did not care for his permission.

“Why so suspicious? I merely came to give you a gift.”

“I don't want anything from you. Begone from my chambers.” He no longer knew why he made the effort. His words meant nothing to her, yet it seemed he couldn't stop trying. If his guards had any power over her, she would have died a while ago. Instead she had disintegrated his guards on the spot. He still prayed for their souls, and he doubted he would ever stop.

He did an awful lot of praying these days, wondering each time if it still mattered. He had believed firmly his entire life, like any good child of the Maker would. In recent days his faith had begun to crumble. Why would his Maker allow these crimes to happen? Weren't children possessed by the curse still his children? He frowned. Those thoughts did not sit well with him.

“I do believe you will change your mind, my King. Or have Cale and his Sparrow turned themselves in while I was not looking?”

His eyes narrowing to slits, he grumbled under his breath. “What do you mean?”

“I know where Cale is hiding. I know where his abominable Sparrows are hiding. And, I know where the Sparrow is.”

Curse that vile woman! Curse her for knowing damn well that he could not turn down this information! Curse her for dangling it before him like a juicy cut of meat!

“Out with it, woman! Where are they?”

“Do you not want to know what I desire in return?” The look she gave him froze him down to the marrow in his exhausted bones. On any other woman it would have stirred him. On her it simply looked out of place. Did he want to know? No. Ending this madness was too important to be picky. If he had to fuck her to please her then so be it. His people deserved an end, no matter the consequences to himself. Was this not what a good King should do? It was about time he became one.

“Blast it, woman, out with it!”

“As you wish.” Her smile could have been sweet, once. Or had she always been evil incarnate? It didn't seem like a far stretch. “The Sparrows are holed up in a small building near the entrance of town. Follow the main road and take a sharp left at the barber's. Follow the road around until you come to the end. The building will appear abandoned to deter intruders, but they are in there.”

He nodded, knowing which road and house she meant.

“And him and his damned Sparrow?”

“Just outside of town, my King. You know the small stream that flows through the forest, I trust?”

Again, he nodded. Of course he knew it. As a child he'd often played there with the commander, when they had been Prince Aeric and Videl, a poor farmer's son—no responsibilities attached. To think how much things had changed since those innocent days pained him as much as these suicides did.

“There is a small cabin there. He lives there, along with his sister and the Sparrow. Kill all three of them, and I will lift this curse.”

“And there is no other way?” So much blood had been shed already that he would not shed any more if it could be avoided.

“Well, you could always kill me.” Her amused chuckle matched his despair. They both knew there was no chance for that. “I will contact you again when their blood stains the cold forest ground. I will claim what I want in return then, too.” The promise made him want to retch, but he would not give in while she was still here. The end was near—all he needed to do was see it through.

“How did you find out?” To think—they had been hiding right under his nose the entire time. It was despicable, inexcusable, that he hadn't known—that his best men hadn't been able to track them down.

“Find out?” Her laugh could kill a lesser man, he was sure of it. “My good king, I've always known.” With that, she disappeared, leaving him to seethe in his anger and with dreams of twisting her neck so far not even Aeron could recover from it.

But there was no time for day dreams. He finally had them cornered. The war was about to end—all he needed to do was give the command. His bones aching at the promise, he opened his doors and gave his personal guards the order he had been waiting to give.

Lost in thought, Cale watched
as Rachael trained with her sword. There were too many bad omens in the air recently for him to feel comfortable. Something terrible had happened, and he was worried that it was too late to reverse the order of things.

Again he went over everything in his head, just in case he had missed something. First Aeron got hold of Rachael and Cephy. He was sure she had helped end Rachael's visions for her own benefit, but it unsettled him more that she would teach Cephy. Rachael's visions were slowly returning—he wasn't worried about them any more. If he only knew where Cephy was now, it would have put his mind at ease. If he could only be sure that she wasn't with Aeron. Even if Cephy had run to her, Aeron had several lairs. There was no way of knowing where they were hiding, or how often they moved to a new location, if at all. Since no one had seen Cephy in months, she could be anywhere. With a horse she could even have crossed the Boneanvil Mountains by now, but she had no reason to go to Tramura. Given their views on the gift it would have been suicide to make the journey. She was still somewhere in Rifarne, he was sure. His gut told him she was with Aeron, but he had no way of knowing that for sure or of knowing where the Mist Woman was, so losing sleep over it was pointless. Prophecy always found a way, and it had named Cephy as the one to betray Rachael. He needed to make sure that she would watch her back when he wasn't around.

Then there were the suicides. Too many of his Sparrows had died because of the strange occurrence. He refused to believe that all of them had suddenly changed their minds. Few had had doubts, true, but most of them had been as determined as ever. None of them would willingly end their own lives. This disease no longer affected only those with the gift, either. Anyone could be a victim. He hated to admit it, but he couldn't see why King Aeric would rule against his own people like this. Whatever had caused the infliction, their king had nothing to do with it. However, this wasn't a simple disease, either. People got the cold, the flu, or nasty rashes when they were sick. They didn't throw themselves off rooftops or gut themselves at family gatherings.

For the past three nights he hadn't been able to sleep. Something was coming, he knew it. He just hoped they were prepared when it hit.

Sighing, he knew this conversation couldn't be avoided any more. He had to make Rachael aware of the possible danger Cephy might pose.

“Rachael, take a break for a while.” She had gotten good with the sword. Rachael had a natural talent for the weapon, and in turn the weapon seemed to have taken an instant liking to her. The old Krymistis weapons were like this, although he had never seen one in person. That one would chose Rachael for a fight where her magic would be of no use was the first good thing to happen in a while.

Sweating and panting, Rachael sat down next to him in the grass.

“Did I do something wrong?”

He smiled at her question. Only a few months ago she wouldn't have cared for his opinion. Trust didn't come easy to her and he couldn't blame her, but maybe he had finally gotten through to her.

“No, not at all. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

The shadows which fell over her eyes reflected the ones inside of him. This wouldn't be easy, but it had to be done.

“What is it?”

“It's about Cephy.” Cale saw her eyes light up. He hated that he had to be the one to crush her hopes. “I'm sorry, we haven't found her. But there is something I need you to be aware off.”

She nodded, worry clouding her face.

“There is a good chance that Cephy is with Aeron, and—”

“With Aeron? But she's dangerous, you said so yourself! We have to get her out of there!” His heart hurt at her outburst. If he could only hold her and make all her pains go away, he would do it without hesitation. But she was the Sparrow. Compared to her he was no one. It wasn't his place to be this close to her, neither was it his place to think about her in this way, but he couldn't help it.

He sighed, tired of the turn his life had taken. There were too many
if
s
in it, too many uncertainties.

“We can't. I'm sorry.”

“Why not?”

“Because we don't know where Aeron is. The hut you saw isn't the only one she's got, but even if we knew where she was hiding we wouldn't be able to leave the city. The war could start at any moment. I have to be here when it does, and so do you.”

“But—”

“Besides all of that, Cephy has chosen to walk this path herself. She is where she wants to be, whether you like it or not.” The last words stung to say out loud, but Rachael needed to realise the potential threat Cephy signified. He didn't want to consider her chances if they were to face each other without him there. Cephy had destructive magic at her command, and Maker only knew what Aeron had taught her. Rachael had a sword. She would be no match for Cephy, no matter how much he wished it were different.

Sagging into the mossy ground, Rachael closed her eyes. He wanted to spare her the next bit, but he couldn't. Not now. Not if it might save her life.

“Prophecy has named her as the one who will betray you. If you and Cephy were to meet you can't expect her to go easy on you.” Cale watched as she took a ragged breath in. He knew she wanted to object but they had been over this so often she knew there was no point. Prophecy stated that the Fox would betray Rachael before the war was over. Aeron had called Cephy the Fox. Denying it would only cause them more trouble.

“What do you want me to do? Kill her?” Her voice was pained.

Slowly, he nodded. “Yes. If you end up fighting each other you won't have a choice. If you don't kill her, she will kill you.”

“Cale, I can't—”

“I'm sorry, Rachael, but there is no other way. Promise me you'll kill her if you have to.”

A few moments passed, then Rachael smiled faintly with her eyes still shut. “I promise. If I have to kill her, and there are no other options, I will.”

His heart hurt seeing her smile. She thought she had found a loophole? He clenched his mouth shut, not wanting to say any more. If she thought she had found a way around it, he would let her think so. She'd find out how wrong she was sooner or later, and as long as she could do what was necessary then he wouldn't complain.

Rachael's eyes watered as she opened them to the bright sunlight. Cale had left her alone after their talk, to give her time to think and to grant her a break.

Cale expected a lot from her, asking her to kill Cephy. She still missed the girl and still hoped she was safe. How could she go from praying for her safety to being the one to kill her?

Bile rose up in her throat when she remembered the dream she had been trying to forget. What if it had been a vision, after all? For all her efforts of pretending otherwise it now looked like it could come true. She and Cephy, standing in the ruins of the burning capital, each trying to kill the other.

Cale's words rang in her mind. Cephy could have found Aeron. She remembered the evil, vile glare in Aeron's eyes, and knew beyond a doubt that the Mist Woman could turn Cephy against her easily if she wished to. There was nothing the woman held dear but herself and something so dark Rachael didn't want to consider it. She wasn't sure that she could if she tried.

She would be no match for Cephy if it came down to that. Cephy had the gift, destructive magic she could use at will, and all she had was a sword and the knowledge that it was going to happen. Maybe whether she could bring herself to kill Cephy or not was irrelevant. Was it not more likely that Cephy would simply burn her to ashes before her sword left its scabbard? She had already been capable of it when they had first met, and they had been running from seasoned soldiers then. Rachael was nothing compared to that.

She sighed, standing up to continue her training. In her vision they had both been alive. Cephy wouldn't kill her the moment they found each other. Maybe there was a chance to talk her down, convince her to stop the destruction she had witnessed in her nightmare. But if there was no chance for that... Yes, she could kill her.

She had spent her entire life doing what was necessary to survive. That Cephy was a friend couldn't matter. She had more to live for now than she had had before, in Blackrock. She might be alone again once all this was over, but at least she wouldn't live in constant fear of being persecuted. That had to be worth the sacrifice. If she died the outcome wouldn't matter, but she would do her best to give people like her a chance. Rifarne had been subdued for long enough. If she could end it, she would. If Cephy decided to stop her then Cephy herself would see people like her continue to suffer. If she did that then she had to die, too.

She didn't like it, but Cale had been right—Cephy had made her decision by herself. She was still young, but almost at marrying age and she was clever. She was a survivor just like Rachael, if a bit too trusting.

Rachael paused when Cale came running to her with Ailis right behind him.

“What happened?” She could read from his face that the news was grim.

“The Sparrows. They're dead.” His hands were balled into fists, his knuckles had turned white and there was a fire raging behind his eyes that put Cephy's best efforts to shame.

“What do you mean?” She knew they had lost some of them to this unexplainable disease which had driven people to suicide, but they still had many of them left, too. They couldn't all be gone.

“Somehow King Aeric found out where the hideout is. He sent twenty men to raid them. We just received a letter delivered by one of our pigeons reporting in. The ink has been touched with a quick sealing spell. Only I and Ailis can read it, as well as a few other Sparrows.”

Rachael felt dazed. Twenty men? Twenty seasoned soldiers for a few resistance fighters? They had been so careful. Had they been followed that night? There had always been a chance, but Cale had managed to remain hidden for so long and the city was in a state of nervous uproar. People were leaving the city to live with relatives either elsewhere in Rifarne or in a different country all together. Doomsayers occupied the streets. It had been easier than ever to slip past a guard since they were watching everyone carefully, in case anyone tried to kill themselves or did something equally horrific. They no longer watched for Cale or other Sparrows. They watched for trouble.

“Is there no one left?” She didn't know all of them well, but Kiana at least could look after herself. Had she made it out?

“A few. Not everyone was at the hideout when the White Guard attacked, but many were there. We can't know for sure, but the letter was written in a hurry. Judging by the little bit of information we've got it doesn't look good.” Cale sounded defeated and angry, while Ailis' eyes were bloodshot. Rachael felt somewhere in between the two. If the Sparrows were lost they had no chance of stopping the war. It was just her, Cale and Ailis now, and Ailis was no fighter. Rachael herself didn't feel that confident with her blade. The hay bales Cale had given her had been great for practice, but hay bales were a very different enemy than strong, angry soldiers who wanted her dead. Could she really do this? Did she still have that choice?

“Everyone's dead, Rachael. All our friends...” She wanted to hug Ailis but didn't. A hug wouldn't end her suffering or her pain. Her friends would still be gone. Everyone they knew would still lie slaughtered by the hands of the White Guard. There was nothing Rachael could do to end this.

“We'll avenge them. I swear by the Maker, we'll avenge them!” Ailis didn't seem to hear him. Her eyes had clouded over, and her face had taken on an indifferent stare.

“Ailis? Are you all right?”

Her eyes were devoid of all life when she looked up. “I am a sinner, and a disgrace. I will save Rifarne from the vile taint of my kind!”