Chapter 15

I set out right before dawn.

I kissed Cyrus goodbye and pressed my cheek to his. If the memory of my presence could soothe his waking, it was the least I could do. Part of the urgency for the journey home was driven by my guilt. There was no way to ignore that. I needed to repair the harm I had caused.

In the twilight, the buildings were all gray stone drenched in shadow, but the impression was peaceful rather than dreary. As the sun rose, it cast sharp delineations of light and dark down onto the streets. I passed through the gate, and Blaze burst forward with eager speed. A few days in the stable was enough rest for him. The road rose before us, and after I'd gained some elevation, I turned back to take in the fullness of Ashfuror.

With the sunrise behind it, the city was a glory of light and a testament to the works of humanity. Buildings rose high, many with great windows of stained glass, and the outer wall was lined in turrets and towers. It was somehow both imposing and welcoming. For a moment, I wished that Cyrus and I had been able to ride in together, side by side. I would have liked to have him welcome me to the city of fire and stone.

I didn't have to push Blaze. He was excited to run, and set a pace just shy of his top speed. We flew through the canyon and out into the plains, the dust billowing behind us as we galloped. The hours passed in a blink. My need to see my home city again kept my mind from registering exhaustion or boredom.

I rode past sunset and many hours into the night, stopping once the moon had reached high in the sky. There had been no sign of Bertio and the ravens. I was tired, but it wasn't yet time for sleep. Instead, I sat in front of the fire and touched the circlet resting on my brow, willing it to activate.

The area was filled with orange light from both the crown and the banner, which glowed brighter with the crown's awakening. Although I had never been allowed to use the artifacts of Vazzart that my grandmother kept, I'd been told it was mostly instinctual.

I closed my eyes. Flames burned bright in my mind's eye, flickering and waiting for me to direct their power. I breathed in, nudging it toward Cyrus' bedroom in Ashfuror.

The flames died down as I flew through the air in my mind's eye. I could see from above: first the canyon, then open road, then…nothing. The flames burst to life once more, filling my field of vision behind my shut eyelids.

It was a simple distraction, the feeling of an ant on my leg, but that had been enough to break my concentration. It would take time to hone my focus to a fine enough point. An hour passed, then two, as I pushed my vision farther afield, inch by inch and league by league.

The road, then the spires of Ashfuror, then the palace, then our bedroom. I peered down from the ceiling, and the scene unfolded beneath me: Cyrus still asleep, and Manod next to him, holding his hand. My heart ached at the sight.

I hadn't known them long, but it was obvious the two of them were incredibly close. According to him, Cyrus hadn't had any real relationship with his imperial-minded father. Manod had mentored and cared for him for all those years, essentially adopting him.

I had taken away his son.

As my emotions rose, my concentration broke, and the images flickered and died. I opened my eyes. I was tempted to go back, to try again, but sleep called to me. If Blaze and I kept up this punishing pace, I would reach Greatfalls by the next evening.

Greatfalls. It was worth staying up for a few more minutes to check on my home city, to see what awaited me.

Once again, flames and the sense of flying. Now the outer wall was before me, and beyond it the dam and Safehold Reservoir. It was the middle of the night, when the citizens would mostly be in bed. I didn't expect to see anything unusual.

But I also didn't expect the emptiness and silence. Greatfalls was a lively city, despite its rural setting on the mountain's slope. The Archers and other soldiers enjoyed the taverns, and their revelry often spilled out onto the streets. Parties and concerts went late into the night. It was a bastion of culture and nightlife.

Now there was nothing. No one walked the streets. The lights in the pubs and concert halls weren't lit. Even the outer walls were empty, barely manned, only a skeleton crew. Everything was quiet.

What had changed since I left?

I dismissed the image. I would find out soon enough. I bedded down, trying to get a few hours of sleep before it was time to push on once more.

The next morning was harsher and less forgiving than the previous one. Gone was the excitement of being out on the open road with Blaze. We were both tired, but if we were going to arrive before nightfall we would have to press hard.

The plains flew by in a dreary, dusty blur. Same as the last time, the signs of drought were everywhere, but I could go faster now, untethered by the need to keep a company of soldiers together. A few rough-looking farmers waved from their struggling fields as I passed.

As the hours stretched on, Blaze's gait became hypnotic, his even footfalls putting me into a trance. The land was the same, all the same, dry and cracked and dead. The few signs of life disappeared the closer we got to my home city, but still we went on.

Every part of me was sore and exhausted when the mountain appeared in the distance. I slowed Blaze's gait. We didn't have much time, but it wasn't wise to arrive completely exhausted. We both needed to catch our breath. I watched the tiny rectangle that was the gate to the city slowly grow larger and larger as we approached.

We were perhaps a league away when the sound hit my ears, the feline roar sending a chill down my spine. My head swiveled fast to see the source, but before I could move it hit me hard, toppling both my steed and myself onto the cracked dirt road. My ears rang with the impact.

The zakar was on me then, growling and lunging for my throat, hunger and death in its one slitted eye. The weight of it was unbearable, the orange and white fur filling my sight. This was the zakar that Cyrus and I had fought those weeks ago. Did it remember me? Did it blame me for the loss of its eye?

I managed to get a knife in my hand, stabbing into the big cat's underbelly, and although the thing flinched back, it didn't retreat, whimpering but then renewing its attack. Every time its jaws opened to rip out my throat or clamp down on my head, I sliced it with my knives. The zakar recoiled at the injury, but it wouldn't pull back. I knew that soon enough the pain would no longer register with it, and those enormous sharp teeth would spell my doom.

As the cat lunged again, the rough, raw call of a raven resounded across the plain. The zakar flung itself to the side, rolling and screaming, the piercing sound almost human-like in its pain. I scrambled to my feet, stepping back and getting my footing for another attack, but I had been given a reprieve.

The ravens dove and pecked at the zakar, even as it covered its face with its huge paws. As it rolled and turned, blood dripped down onto its face. Bertio had pierced its remaining eye! The huge bird's dive-bomb must have made the cat roll off of me.

The zakar managed to get back to its feet, fighting through the pain. It swatted at the ravens, and even without its sight, some of the birds weren't fast enough to evade the cat's killing instinct. One raven fell, and then another. The flock backed off, soaring aloft once more and circling above us.

The animal sniffed the air. I knew that big cats relied on their sense of smell as much as on their vision. It circled around me, zeroing in on my scent, and every muscle in my body tensed with alarm. The zakar had been chastised, perhaps, but also angered.

This was not a fight I could win alone, not under normal circumstances. But the cat's sight had been taken, and perhaps I could manage another advantage. I willed the Crown of Seeing to life.

There was a moment of disorientation as my vision split. In front of me was the zakar, slowly positioning itself for the next attack. But overlayed on top of that was Bertio's view from above. From there I could see the injuries that the ravens and I had managed to inflict. Where the cat's back left leg met its body, several of the birds had penetrated deep into its flesh.

Somehow, Bertio understood my need exactly. The zakar growled, its muscles tensing to lunge, and as it did, the sizable black bird dove, digging its claws into the already deep injury. The big cat yowled, rearing back in pain, and with one swift motion I drew my bow, nocked an arrow, and let it fly.

The sharp point of the arrowhead pierced the zakar's throat, nicking an artery as blood spurted from the cat's neck, staining the orange and white fur a deep red. The animal thrashed for a few moments, but the blood loss was significant. Soon, its movements slowed as it sank to the ground. It didn't get up again.

My thoughts were swirling as I stood, breathing hard while the adrenaline drained out of me. I glanced over at Blaze, who had managed to get himself back to his feet. He was battered and bruised from the initial attack, but walked over to me with confidence, nuzzling against my hand. I ran my palm down his mane unconsciously, unable to stop the burst of hope that had blossomed in my mind. With the fight over, the meaning of the ravens' presence hit me, a flash of bright energy running through my body in spite of my exhaustion.

Cyrus was awake.

The sun was starting to set behind the mountain when we reached the city. I slowed Blaze to a walk as we approached. There was no sign of movement on the wall.

"Hello, Greatfalls!"

There was a long silence. Finally, a response came back, the call muffled.

"Hello, the gate. State your purpose."

I knew that voice.

"Doren, open up. It's me, Skye!"

A face popped over the top of the wall. The young Archer's eyes were wide as he peered down at me.

"Commander Skye! It's good to see you, sir. One moment!" He made his way to the small enclosure that held the gate mechanism, but before he reached it, he peered over his shoulder into the city. He was listening for something.

Eventually, he turned back to me. "Commander, the Prime is waiting for you. The instructions are to go straight to Prime Hall."

Anxiety fluttered in my chest. It wasn't surprising that Grandmother would want to speak to me immediately, but the whole place felt like it was preparing for...something. I wasn't sure what.

As the gate rose, I dismounted, walking Blaze into the city and over to the stable. The stableboy came out to get him, but when I passed him the reins, he flinched. What was he afraid of? He said nothing as he led Blaze away.

I made my way through the quiet twilight of the city of my birth. The silence was disturbing. There wasn't a soul in the streets, and the houses were shrouded in darkness. Even the chipmunks and squirrels were in hiding.

What the hell had happened? I didn't understand what could have caused such a shift in the weeks since I'd left.

As I arrived at Prime Hall, there was a whole contingent on guard at the door, rather than the usual single soldier. Ten of them stood at attention on either side of the entrance. As I reached it, I turned to the nearest guard, who stood stockstill, staring out front.

It was the young Archer I had commanded only a few weeks earlier, although now he wore a helmet and armor of iron. I didn't understand. It was good quality armor, but it would get in the way of using his primary weapon. He was an incredible shot on foot and on horseback.

"Erik," I said. He turned to me, his eyes wide in surprise.

"Commander! I mean, uh, Skye..."

"What is going on?"

Erik kept his face a frozen mask of neutrality. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Why is there no one on the streets? Where has everyone gone? Why are all of you here guarding Prime Hall? If someone got past the outer walls and made their way up here, the cause would already be lost."

"I do as I'm directed by the new commander."

"New commander? I've barely been gone for three weeks."

"I serve Commander Athard."

I was hit with a wave of confusion. Why would Grandmother make Athard the commander of the Archers? He hated the bow and arrow. He'd always said it was a cowardly weapon.

I did a quick inspection of the guard in front of me. Erik didn't even bear the bow that he'd trained so hard to master.

"Where's your weapon?"

"I bear a short sword." His hand rested on the pommel at his waist.

"You are an Archer!"

"The Archers numbers have been reduced by half. Commander Athard wanted more foot soldiers."

I shook my head. Taking hundreds of talented archers and making them grunts, forcing them to start their training from the beginning, that was insane.

"I am here to see my grandmother."

Erik nodded and gestured to the door. "They are expecting you."

"They?"

"The Prime is there with Commander Athard, as well as Second Commander Jelenna."

What was I walking into? It didn't really matter. I had a peace to preserve, and a nation to save.

"Be well, Erik." I stepped through the door, making my way through the antechamber and entering Prime Hall itself.

Grandmother was in the middle of the room, leaning against the large table. Jelenna stood by a nearby window, stiff as stone, looking as if she'd rather be anywhere else. Her eyes went to mine as I entered, then quickly darted away. Athard lounged off to the side in a large cushioned chair, the only one in the room. He'd obviously brought it in for himself.

"Skye, love." Grandmother smiled. "I'm glad to see you back home where you belong."

I stared at her. Those were her first words, after all that had happened? I was flabbergasted.

"What is happening here?" I asked, the questions bursting out of me. "Why is there no one on the streets? Why is there a whole company of guards outside of Prime Hall?"

"It's simple security, brother , something that was sorely neglected when you were Commander." Athard's voice dripped with contempt. He didn't even glance in my direction as he spoke.

"There's no good reason—"

"I appointed Athard to Commander in your absence." Grandmother didn't lose her smile, but there was metal in her tone. "It will be good training for his role as Prime of Greatfalls. He has made some changes, including adding the guards stationed here. And the curfew."

"A curfew? The citizens of Greatfalls don't need a curfew." The whole idea was ridiculous.

"The 'citizens of Greatfalls' need to understand that if they are to live here, they are to follow our rules." Athard swung his legs over the arm of the chair and hopped to his feet. "All the carousing was becoming a problem."

"We can discuss the military forces of Greatfalls later." Grandmother tapped her staff on the floor in frustration. "You've returned. Is it done?"

My stomach flipped with nervousness at her question. This was the crux of it. How thoroughly had she lied to me? And what was she willing to do about it?

"It is."

Her smile widened. "Good. His death is unfortunate, but it is better this way. Greatfalls could not continue having to contend with the threat of Ashfuror."

She had known everything. She had expected him to die.

"You lied to me!" My heart raced and my face grew hot with rage. "You told me the crown would kill him if he continued to use it."

"It would have." Concern flashed on Grandmother's face, but it was false, I was sure of it. Everything she said was threaded with lies. "Either way, the crown would eventually take his life. This just sped up the process. It's for the best. It will take them some time to find a new ruler, and we can use it to our advantage."

My blood burned, and there was a sudden weight on my brow. The crown had grown heavier, as if it anticipated what would come next.

"Not so much time." I pulled back my hood, and the amber light of the crown poured forth, illuminating the shadowy hall. Jelenna flinched at the sight, and Athard stepped back. Only Grandmother was nonplussed.

"That's quite a surprise." Grandmother took in the sight of me for a moment. "But also an opportunity. We can forge a new treaty. A stronger one, to ensure that Ashfuror will never threaten us again."

"I want that too," I said. No matter what she'd done, I had more important things to do than nurse my own hurt. "A treaty that will solidify the relationship between Greatfalls and the rest of Fyr. That will ensure the safety of the people of this land. But there is one question that must be answered before we can do that."

"Yes?" Grandmother asked, her voice laced with suspicion.

"How can we sign a peace treaty with a ruler that would send an assassin to murder a child?"

Grandmother stepped back and leaned onto the tabletop. For the first time, she was actually surprised. Her recovery was quick, though, and her expression sharpened.

"He was not a child, Skye. He was heir to the throne of Ashfuror, and a future aggressor."

"He was ten!"

"You will learn soon enough, Dark Lord of Ashfuror, that to be an effective ruler, you have to make difficult decisions."

I said nothing. This was a point I could not concede. I would never participate in the harming of a child, no matter what the political goal might be.

"Your grandmother's right, Skye. We do what we have to do." Jelenna spoke for the first time, her voice tense with fear.

"What did you have to do, hm?" I couldn't stop my reaction. "Where were you after I took the crown from Cyrus? You were gone!"

She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Just as well. There was no answer she could give that would make it feel like she hadn't abandoned me.

"Those were my orders." Grandmother stepped toward Jelenna, putting a hand on her shoulder. "She was to leave once the deed was done."

"And what about me? Was I to be abandoned to torture or execution, when they found me with the dead Lord of Ashfuror?"

Grandmother did not answer. No one spoke, no one argued the point. That was it then. I was expected to marry a man, I was expected to kill him, and then I was expected to die.

I shook it all off. None of this mattered anymore, now that I knew the truth. This final confirmation of her deception hardened my heart. This was a political negotiation now, not a personal one. She was ruthless, and I would ensure that the people of my new nation would not suffer because of her. I didn't need more specifics of how my parents were child-killers, or how my own grandmother would leave me to my death. I was a Lord of Fyr, and I would act as one.

"Very well. Here are the terms of the treaty. Greatfalls shall remain autonomous, and neither I nor any Lord that comes after me will threaten the city. In return, you will give over control of the dam and the water supply to me."

An inhuman growl rumbled from my left. It was my brother.

"Like hell we will!" he shouted.

Grandmother held up her hand. "Athard—"

"We will never give up our water!"

"Enough." She locked eyes with me. "He is right. We will not give up control of the dam."

"People are dying," I argued. "That should matter to you whether they are your subjects or not. I won't stand by and let it continue."

"This is your home. These are your people. I raised you. You owe us."

I couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth. To invoke a familial connection now after betraying me was the height of arrogance.

"You lied to me and abandoned me to my death. I owe you nothing. I've given you the courtesy of entertaining your treaty. I—"

A sharp pain exploded on the back of my skull and a bright flash exploded in front of my eyes. The room began to darken, and I saw the sneering face of my brother, standing over me with the pommel of his sword in his fist.

As everything faded to black, I heard the call of a raven.