Rise of the Sparrows (Relics of Ar'Zac #1) (26 page)

Arlo sped through the masses, aware of every last movement and shape around him. Several guards had tried to stop him. Explaining what he needed to do—whom he had to save—would do no good, so he had cut them down before they had the opportunity to attack. They had never had a chance, and he hated himself for it. Battle was not supposed to be like this. It should be fair, a sport, both opponents standing a chance to win. War always brought out the worst in people.

Curse Aeron for plunging the world into this mess! He could not be sure it was her, but who else would do this? Who else was vile enough to set fire to an entire city—and what for? She was the most powerful, most dangerous Mist Woman in existence as far as he knew. If she wanted to kill Rachael she would have been able to do so easily. She hadn't needed to drag an entire city into this. Rachael would have been no match for her.

No, it was her doing. So was this affliction he had heard about, which had now befallen poor Ailis. Cale had done a good job tying her to the bed, but the stories he had heard didn't put his mind at ease. The sick developed incredible strength, capable of overpowering anyone who would stand in their way and obsessed with only one goal. He worried that a bit of rope—no matter how thick—wouldn't be enough to keep Ailis from hurting herself.

But he couldn't worry about it now. Right now he had more urgent things to fear for, like Cale's life or Rachael's. Blast that lad! Was he too stricken with the girl to think clearly? To allow himself to be captured just so she'd be save? What had he been thinking!

Arlo grunted. He knew exactly what Cale had been thinking, and it had nothing to do with caring too much for the girl. Not in that way, at least. She was their Sparrow, and he would protect her until the world itself crumbled at its core—which was what it seemed to be doing now, thanks to Aeron.

It wasn't sickness that caused people to jump from rooftops and impale themselves on swords. It was her doing—there was no other way around it. He could smell foul magic from ten miles away, and this had Aeron's stench all over it. If he should be so lucky to run into her he would gladly bury his axe in her skull. He would have searched for her, too, had he believed that he might stand a chance, but he knew he would be deluding himself. Aeron wasn't feared as the most powerful Mist Woman—a demon in disguise, the Dark One's whore—for nothing. No matter how much blood his axe had seen, it wouldn't be enough to slay that abomination.

There was no point in throwing his life away.

As easily as he navigated his forests Arlo turned from one street into the next, jumped over crates their owners had forgotten about in the madness, and felled guards when they tried to get in his way. The palace wasn't far now, and therefore neither was Cale. He couldn't afford to be stopped when the lad might already be in chains and screaming under their torture. The mere thought made his heart and insides clench. He'd known the lad since he was a wee boy. He hadn't let him down when his parents had been slaughtered, he hadn't let him down when he'd first thought of founding the Sparrows, and he wasn't about to let him down now! And if it cost him his own life, so be it—as long as Cale was safe first.

Behind him, he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps running after him. If he could give the White Guard credit for anything it was their persistence. It was a shame they fought to kill people like Rachael and Ailis. They would have made formidable allies.

With grim determination, Arlo continued on. The one behind him was slowly falling back, no match for Arlo's many years of experience of tracking the woods. He had enough stamina to put any horse to shame, and he was not going to stop until he saw Cale safe and far away from a King who appeared to have gone mad.

“Arlo! Will you stop already!” Staggered to hear his voice Arlo stopped, axe raised, ready to kill any guards on the lad's heels. Turning around he saw the lad struggling after him alone. No guards in sight.

“It's mighty good to see you, my boy! Why didn't you call out sooner?” No one could keep up with him for long. Cale must have been waiting somewhere nearby.

“I did.” Cale said, frowning. “You were so deep in thought you didn't hear me.” The men shook hands, relieved to see the other well and alive.

“What happened, lad? Rachael said you were being escorted by the Guard.”

“I was. Two of them came to the house, but only one went to bring me to the King. The other stayed behind to look for Rachael. Arlo, you mentioned her. Is she—”

“Aye, lad, she's save.” He could no longer tell if the lad was worried about her because she was the Sparrow, or because there were deeper feelings at play. “Save and defiant as ever! She's waiting in a dark alley for me to bring you back.” Glad to see Cale smile, he gave him that brief moment of relief before continuing. “Happy as I am to see you're safe, it doesn't explain what happened. Did they not search you before leaving your house?”

“They did.” Cale said, grinning that boyish grin of his. “But they only found my sword. They didn't think I'd have a dagger at my hip, too.”

Arlo grinned in return. He had raised the boy well. “There's a good lad. The one who stayed behind is dead, too. I ran into him on my way to you.”

“Why are you here, Arlo? It's not that I'm not glad to see you, but I don't understand why you came.”

Arlo shrugged. “There's a war going on, isn't there? I thought you could use my help.”

“There is now.” Cale said. “You timed your arrival well, old friend.”

“So it seems. We need to get back to Rachael. I'm worried the lass is going to do something stupid.” Rachael was not naïve or fairy-brained by any means, but she was a fiery one. He was worried she had grown bored of waiting and had gone to find Cale herself.

“Wait, Arlo, before we go—I heard explosions lower in the city. Did you see what happened?”

Arlo grunted, preparing himself for Cale's reaction. “Aeron happened, lad. I'm sure she's behind this.”

The lad's face had gone as pale as the coldest winter's snow. “And you left her alone?” Cale often got angry. It was a trait born during his time as leader of the Sparrows. The boy had seen much, and had grown resentful over time. Usually he did not show his irritation, however. He had learned to keep it hidden, and only showed his true anger when he could not contain it.

Now was such a moment, it seemed. “She's safe where she is, lad. Aeron won't find her where I left her.”

“And if Rachael didn't want to wait for us? If she followed us?”

“That's precisely why we should hurry back.”

As one they started running, Cale following his lead back to where Rachael was waiting for them.

“One thing still doesn't make sense.”

“What's that, lad?”

“I can believe that Aeron is behind these attacks, I suspected as much, but why would she strike now? Why not a week ago, or a week later?”

Arlo had asked himself that very question since leaving Rachael alone. There were only two options he could think of, both equally worrying.

“Could just be she's hateful like that, lad. If Aeron wants to destroy a city, she will destroy a city. You know what Mist Women are like, acting on passing fancies no matter how many people get hurt.”

“But you don't believe that's what happened here. It would be too much of a coincidence.”

Their trip back down into the city was faster than his trip up had been. Downhill was always easier, especially when you were running, and the few Guards who stood in their way were no match for both of them together.

“Aye, lad. I don't believe that's what happened here. I believe Aeron's had her claws around the King's neck for longer than that.” He didn't need to see Cale's face to know he had gone a dangerous shade of white. He shared the lad's concern at the grim implications.

“You mean the suicides...” Arlo nodded. “Then everything we feared was true. Aeron is behind all this.”

Cale cursed under his breath. Unlike Arlo he didn't swear often. Arlo knew the lad's feelings by that alone.

“We have to find her, Arlo. She's responsible for Ailis.”

Grunting his approval, he led Cale back on to the narrow side road. No words were needed when they reached the hiding place. He felt Cale's accusing glare without needing to see it.

Rachael didn't know where she was going other than that she needed to head up. Once she was closer to the palace she hoped it would be more obvious. For now she followed King's Road, hoping it was a reference to the other end of the cobblestones under her feet.

Two more explosions had shaken the city since the second. Pillars of smoke had turned the sky a dark grey. The screams of injured and scared people still reached her ears even now, although she had put a good distance between her and the market. The fire was spreading, devouring wood and hard stone alike. Rachael knew only one person who could make it burn with such ferocity, but she didn't want to jump to conclusions. Aeron was capable of the same magic, and hateful enough to destroy a city.

Her eyes stinging from the ash in the air, she moved into a small square to blink the pain away and to plan her next steps. Reaching the palace would be easy compared to what she needed to do once she got there. The Guard could have taken Cale anywhere—King Aeric was only one of many possibilities. Maybe the king was already done with him, and he was being taken to the prison right now. Maybe they'd already—

Rachael shook her head. She would not allow herself to think like that. Cale was fine, still alive, and hopefully even uninjured. Her blade had seen its first blood since she had left her small hiding place. It would cut down more guards, too, if she needed it to. Thanks to Cale's patience she had wielded her sword well. Only one guard had managed to injure her—a small cut on her thigh throbbed relentlessly, but it had to wait. She didn't have time to stop and bandage the wound. First she needed to find Cale.

With fresh determination Rachael set out towards the palace, and only dodged the blazing ball of fire by luck.

She readied her weapon as she searched the square around her.

“That won't help you. Nothing will.” Another ball of fire, this time larger and easier to spot than the first, sizzled through the air towards her. Rachael dodged it, her heart aching for that voice—for the truth she couldn't ignore any longer.

It hadn't been a nightmare. Her dream of Cephy crowding her in a small space, set on killing her, had been an all too real vision, and it was unfolding now with her defenceless against Cephy's gift.

Another ball of fire sped past her and flew into the house behind her. Lamp oil ignited. The explosion threw her into the air for a brief moment before she hit the ground hard, and the wound the guard had given her before burst open. The piercing pain made her scream.

“Stop it, Cephy!”

The next angry fireball came close enough to heat her cheek and singe her hair.

“No! I'm not here to talk!”

She had to try, at least. She had to try to talk Cephy out of this, even if the girl didn't want to listen right now. Somehow, she had to make her care enough to stop her furious attacks.

Sword raised, Rachael prepared herself for an impossible-to-win battle.

“Why are you doing this?”

Above her a small explosion ripped through stone, bringing down the arch connecting the two houses to her sides into a large, fiery pile.

“You're trapped now. You're not going anywhere until I'm done!” It didn't make sense. This was not the Cephy she knew.

“Stop it! I'm not your enemy, Cephy, stop the attack!”

Cephy's hands themselves fists of fire, she looked like a vengeful spirit come to claim her.

“You're lying! Aeron showed me how you and Cale made plans to get rid of me! I saw you agreeing to kill me! She said you would betray me and she was right!”

Aeron. So Cale had been right. Cephy really had run to Aeron that night. Or had Aeron found her, while Cephy had been on her way somewhere else? It didn't matter now. All that mattered was the girl's intent to kill her, and her ability to accomplish just that without Rachael standing even a small chance.

What a right mess this was. Rachael couldn't begin to imagine how Cephy had overheard their conversation, but she clearly hadn't heard all of it.

“I only agreed if you tried to kill me! I would never attack you without reason.”

Something inside Cephy halted, paused to think.

The lies Aeron had fed her burned hotter.

“Lies!”

Rachael saw the flame too late. She only dodged in time for it not to burn her skin, but it caught the length of her sword which heated through and singed her hand. Her fingers burning from the hot metal, Rachael dropped the blade.

A ring of fire spread around her, trapping Rachael inside. There was no way for her to escape, but she had to try. She had to get to Cephy somehow. If she touched the flames she would burn to ashes, she was sure of it. Cale was nowhere to be seen, and Arlo was likely still searching for him elsewhere. It was just her and the hungry flames, desperate to get a taste of her flesh.

“How does it feel to be helpless?”

“Cephy, stop this! This is madness, Aeron is lying to you!”