Rise of the Sparrows (Relics of Ar'Zac #1) (29 page)

“Rachael, there's one thing you need to know.” She swallowed, preparing herself for whatever the tone in his voice was hinting at.

“What is it?”

“Aeron is dead. I came across her charred remains earlier, lower down in the city.”

“That's good, isn't it?” She didn't understand the look of dread on his face. Aeron had been a dangerous witch, who had set Cephy against her. Because of her, Cephy was dead. If Aeron was really dead she couldn't find anything bad about that.

“In itself, yes. But what killed her? I don't know anyone powerful enough who could have done it.”

Shivers ran down her arms. So that was why he was worried. The thought that someone more dangerous than Aeron was out there did not sit well with her, either.

“They did us a favour. Whoever killed her probably saved us.”

A small smile showed on Cale's thin lips. “You're right. I probably worry about nothing again. Still, I can't help but think this isn't over yet. It almost seems too easy.”

Rachael sneered. She couldn't imagine Aeron had been easy to kill, and then there was the loss of Cephy and Arlo. They didn't know if the spell that had made people kill themselves had worn off yet. They didn't know Ailis' state, whether she was well or not. The Sparrows had been wiped out, the city lay in still smouldering ruins.

How had any of this come easy? Rachael dared not ask.

She took a deep breath in, readying herself to deliver the bad news. There was no point in talking around it, no point in softening the blow. No matter how she embellished it, the outcome was the same. Cale was not someone who appreciated being coddled, and he had been Arlo's best friend. He deserved to know now rather than in two minutes' time.

“Arlo is dead.”

A dark shadow chased away his smile and settled over his eyes. He nodded. “I know. I found him earlier.”

“Cephy, too.” The words felt unnatural when they left her lips. They felt wrong.

“I'm so sorry, Rachael. We'll find her body. I promise.”

Her eyes stung at the honesty in his words. For the first time she realised that there was someone she could trust, really trust, with her life. Cale meant every word. He had always meant it.

“We'll give them a proper burial once this is over. You have my word on it.” She believed him.

“What do we do now?”

Behind her, someone cleared his throat. “If I may speak.” Rachael blushed. She had forgotten all about the soldiers who had watched over King Aeric's throne not long ago. They had come running when she had killed him. Had they stood behind them this whole time, allowing them to have a conversation when she'd just killed their king?

The man who had spoken sounded less intimidating than Commander Videl but no less authoritative. He would be answered, no questions asked.

She was glad Commander Videl lay dead behind him. No matter how ruthless this man was, he couldn't be any more cruel than him.

Next to her Cale rose up with as much authority in his stature as the new commander.

She was grateful he was there with her. If anyone knew what to say in a situation like hers, it was him.

“This woman has fought late King Aeric, and defeated him. She is the Sparrow prophecy has promised, and your new queen.” Rachael wanted to laugh but thought better of it.

The soldiers behind their commander looked unsure, casting glances between them and to their leader.

With eyes as controlled and measuring as any she had ever seen, he stepped forward, seemingly testing her worth as he took her in.

“We know. We have watched your fight, and we have clear instructions from late King Aeric. May he find peace by the Maker's side.”

“What kind of instructions?” Without her needing to ask, Cale had become her personal guard.

“He knew the prophecy, and that he would likely die if he challenged you to a duel. Had you not agreed or lost quickly he would have killed you, but he must have decided that you had earned his throne. Your throne.” The men behind him drew their fists to their chests, their heads bowed.“These are strange times. Under normal circumstances the throne would go to his first born son, but his Highness had no children.” The commander eyed the late King with a sad smile. He clasped his hand to his heart like his men had done, and bowed his head in respect. “As I said, these are odd times. Protocol dictates we have a vote to determine his successor, but the people are in no shape to make such a decision, and late King Aeric has asked that you take his place should you be able to defeat him.” He sighed, giving her a nod she couldn't read. “I admit, I would prefer a vote to decide our new ruler, but it is not the first time that a throne was taken in this manner. If it means that this war is over and we can begin to heal I won't challenge his final wish. We will serve you faithfully as we have served late King Aeric, may the Maker watch over him.”

Rachael watched in disbelief as the commander as well as his men fell to their knees, hands in fists over their hearts as a sign of respect. To her.

Next to her Cale grinned widely. She sighed. Times were strange indeed when a homeless orphan could become the Queen of Rifarne.

Disaster! What were the people of Rifarne thinking, putting
her
on the throne? They were no better than the cursed people of the south, who placed their beliefs in fake gods and goddesses—goddesses!—and who went about their unholy craft like any other person baking bread or knitting a jumper.

And now, Rifarne had followed suit by making her their queen.

Grinding his teeth, Arnost Lis balled his hands into fists as he threw the letter into the fire. Without a sound the letter burned to ashes—just as she would once he got his hands on her.

It just proved that he could not trust anyone to do his work for him. If you wanted someone killed, you had to do it yourself—there was no way around it. He had been foolish to think that this time, he might be able to rely on other people.

That Mist Woman, Aeron, had been supposed to murder the girl. Of course, had he actually contacted that cursed witch... Pah! It was no good now. What was done was done, but maybe a new plan would do the job just as well.

His thin lips broke into a smile. This wasn't a complete disaster. The Mist Woman had been out of his control, had acted on her own volition, but Shyla had performed rather well. Of course, she had not known what exactly she had given the new queen, but it had not been necessary for her to know. It had only been necessary that she would do as she had been told, and she had done beautifully. The necklace, the Ar'Zac, had been a gamble but it was worth it. Since she accepted this gift – his gift – he had been able to observe her. A bit of magic, a necessary evil. That fool late king of theirs had been right at least in one respect. In war, you had to use whatever means necessary to win, and he was not someone who shirked away from his duty. He had called in a witch and had asked her to enchant the necklace. Handing it to Shyla under the pretence of supporting those silly Sparrows had been too easy. Her own loyalty had surfaced that day, too. To think that someone here, in his country, supported those children playing at war was unacceptable. She had returned to tell him the good news, that Rachael had accepted her gift, and he had had her executed. He could not allow any disobedience from his people, and her death had served as a warning. Magic was a thing of evil crafted by the Dark One Himself, and he would not allow it in Tramura. King Aeric had finally danced to his melody, too, but Rachael was another matter. She needed to be dealt with.

“Erimentha!” He had let this go on for too long. It was time he acted. Time
they
acted. He turned as the door behind him opened, and his wife entered the room.

“My lord?” She was an exotic beauty from far-away Krymistis, her eyes and skin as warm and promising as the flames devouring the letter the Witch Queen had sent them. Their daughter had no doubt inherited her beautiful features, but time would tell.

“Erimentha, my love, it is time. We've been summoned to the White Palace a month from now and will need to make preparations.” Something played behind her eyes, something odd, but women were like that. It was nothing worthy of his attention. Given the circumstances, he could almost understand it.

“My lord. We have already begun to mix poisons and plan traps. Our best assassins have been hired and are awaiting your word, my lord.” Ah, Erimentha. Such a wonderful, faithful, obedient thing she was. He'd known they were meant to be together, rule together, when he'd first met her. A pity she was tainted and was unlikely to breed him many heirs. His son, Kleon, had been the only exception, and while he was still young he had not shown any signs of the taint.

He hadn't been the only child to be born to them, of course. There had been three others, a time ago, but they had all been born with that vile evil tainting their souls. Once they had found out he'd had them executed. He had ordered their deaths to be quick and painless. They had been his children, after all, even if they had been abominations.

“Send one now. Maybe we won't need to set foot into Rifarne, if he succeeds.”

She nodded, her hands obediently folded in front of her. “He will, my lord.”

Arnost smiled. Kleon was getting older and no doubt wanted a brother. All children wanted siblings, and it would do him good to be the oldest child rather than the only child. He would see to it later that Kleon would not be alone much longer.

“Don't be so sure, my beautiful Erimentha. She is Queen now—she will have guards protecting the very ground she steps on. Her Highness will be well protected.” He knew their best chance off success was the first attempt, before they could grow cautious. They would not expect it yet, but should the first try fail... Rulers were always more careful once one attempt on their lives had been made. Rifarne was still busy rebuilding and accepting its new Queen. Getting in and out would be easy.

“What do you wish of me in the meantime, my lord?”

He smiled at her unspoken offer. “Get yourself undressed and into our chambers. I will be with you in a moment.”

She smiled in return, nodded and bowed, and left him to it.

What a day this was! What had transpired in Rifarne was a disgusting disaster—there was no better way to say it—but maybe there were things to look forward to. Erimentha was always a good distraction for his troubled mind, and would give him another son. The sooner the better.

And in the meantime, while his wife was heavy with child, he would travel to Rifarne and kill his daughter who now sat on the throne.

Dear reader,

Thank you so much for reading my book. There are a lot of wonderful books out there, and that you've chosen
mine
instead of one of those other incredible reads means the world to me.

If you have enjoyed
Rise of the Sparrows
, might you consider writing a review? Reviews sell books—and I'd owe you a tea and a cookie. It doesn't need to be long, it only needs to be honest.

If you haven't enjoyed it, that's fine, too. Thank you for giving me a chance, and I hope you enjoy your next read a lot more!

Happy reading,

Sarina

Acknowledgments

When I started writing this book in early 2015 I had no idea what I was in for. I knew it'd be stressful, I knew there'd be a lot of work, and I knew that, by the time the release date came around, I most likely wouldn't want to look at it anymore. Two of those are true.

I didn't know how incredibly welcoming and supportive the writing community would be—on Twitter, on Wordpress, and in several other corners of the internet, too.

THANK YOU to my thorough beta readers Kay, Faith Rivens, Paul Broome, Mollie Wallace, Kayleigh Osborne, Gerry Klabis and Sarah. Without them this book wouldn't have been the same.

THANK YOU to my editor Briana Mae Morgan. You've been a pleasure to work with, and I owe you a tea.

THANK YOU to Glynn from MonkeyBlood Design, who designed my awesome map and taught me a few things about cartography in the process.

THANK YOU to Rebecca and Andrew for my beautiful book cover. You were such a joy to work with, and I'll be back for the sequel!

THANK YOU to Claire Huston, Nicolette Elzie, Alan Morgan and Rhianne Williams.

A special THANK YOU to Sarah, who always had time to discuss idea with me when I was stuck, and who contributed more to this book than she knows.

THANK YOU to the incredible writing community on twitter and Cookie Break. You're all amazing, and I owe all of you teas and cookies.

And, finally, THANK YOU to you, dear reader. There are so many amazing books out there, and I'm humbled that you've chosen to read mine. I hope you've enjoyed it, and if you didn't – no hard feelings. Thank you for giving me a chance.

About the Author

Sarina studied Photography at university, but in the end the demons in her head won and she decided to write instead.

If you enjoyed this book, why not see what said demons are making her write right now? You can follow her...

… on her blog:
sarinalangerwriter.com/

… on Twitter:
twitter.com/sarinalanger

… or on Facebook:
facebook.com/sarinalangerwriter/

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