Chapter 40

Chapter

Forty

TRESSYA

It was as though the darkness birthed our enemy. They had sneaked upon us, using our noisy, frantic escape to conceal their approach. The only warning was a sharp war cry as they attacked from the rear.

Some distance behind us came a strangled cry followed by the sounds of a struggle. Then, silence. I reached for Andriet and found his hands searching for me in the darkness. The air filled with whimpers of fear. Facing the enemy blind was a poison to my sanity. Fear seeped from the survivors and hung over my shoulders like a wool cloak. In my mind's eye, hands with fingers like spears dug into my neck. I resisted the urge to swat away the phantom hands. So, when Andriet touched my arm, I jerked with a gasp, then fell backward over roots.

"It's all right," he leaned over me.

I grasped his offered hand, and he pulled me to my feet. Once upright, I drew Andriet close and reached up on tiptoes to pull his head down, so I could whisper in his ear, "No one can see who you are," as long as the Razohan stayed in human form. "I'm going to call you Melak."

"I hate that you're treating me any more special than?—"

"Listen to her," Daelon snapped, having moved close beside us.

Another cry tore through the night behind us, then fell silent. They were picking us off one by one, like a predator toying with its prey. The darkness was near absolute. We stood no chance against an invisible enemy.

I kept a firm hand on Andriet's neck, wanting to convey more in secret. With people crying, babbling in fear, and talking incoherently to themselves, it was unlikely anyone would overhear even if I yelled. Using my free hand, I drew Daelon close, including him in my plan. "We have to separate from the rest and make our way to the cave."

"No," Andriet's response was fierce. "Not everyone here are fighters, which makes them vulnerable."

"Our enemy doesn't care about the vulnerable. They only care about you."

He clamped a heavy hand on my shoulder. "You want to use them as a distraction while we escape?" His tone was indignant.

"I don't claim to be noble," I replied with equal force. "We need to win by outsmarting them."

"There's no victory if my people die."

While such sentiment made him the perfect king, I wanted to kick this honorable side of him into the night.

"There's definitely no victory if you're dead," my voice cut through the air like a blade.

"She's right, Andriet."

This time, Andriet shouted when the next cry rang out. I jumped, losing my grip on him as I stumbled back, nearly losing my footing in the dark again. With the gentle eddy of wind beside me, I knew what Andriet planned, but I was too slow to stop him. The frustrating ass, who deserved to be king more than anyone else I'd ever known, launched away.

"Daelon," I cried, hoping he would be swifter than me at restraining Andriet.

"Andriet," Daelon cried out, and I cringed at the sound of his name.

Our shouts unleashed a torrent of fighters. I was sure most of northerners we'd seen in the fields had now also joined the fight. We were no longer battling only the Razohan. The night thickened with the bellowing of madmen and the sounds of battle. Metal clashed, women screamed, and the gruesome sounds of slow, agonizing deaths made my heart pound so hard, I struggled to breathe.

Daelon disappeared, charging back toward the fight, crying Andriet's name, and I swallowed a lump of frustration. Now our enemy would know their prize was among our pitiful party.

Sweet Mother, we didn't stand a chance.

I dove into my mind, wrenching my soul word forth, knowing our survival hinged on the dead. Damn the consequences; I would summon all the dead of the Ashenlands if it secured our victory.

Aetherius . With just one thought, the might of my soul word surged through my chest, infusing me with power so immense I felt on the verge of splintering apart.

Discipline. Clenching my fists, my hands trembled under the force of my spiritweaver power. Closing my eyes to find my calming breaths, I focused inward into the abyss where my calm resided. There, I commanded death itself to rise. With ferocity, I shouted my command. The power coursed through my chest with a burning intensity, leaving a throbbing ache behind.

Upon opening my eyes, a vast stream of spirits illuminated the forest, piercing the veil. Scores of them, an invincible army, emerged through the trees. However, summoning the dead to walk among the living was deeply wrong, yet I had no choice. I vowed to restore the balance once victorious. In the meantime, I could only hope I hadn't unleashed a terrible curse.

"It's time to seek your revenge," I shouted, gesturing towards the battle. "Save Prince Andriet. Destroy your enemy. We must win."

Forcing the spirits to fight my war, against those not responsible for their deaths, was a grievous act. I pushed the thought aside. Guilt could wait until after our victory.

They advanced, unable to resist my command, illuminating their path. Soon, the fighters were overwhelmed, while overhead, bright lights flared. The Ashenlands now blazed with streaks of white, filling the air with a strange, sweet smell. Magic. The Salmun had arrived. Curse their late arrival. I wouldn't have summoned the dead had they come sooner.

Amidst streaks of white, I glimpsed the chaos of battle. The forest floor, a perilous battlefield, saw fighters colliding with trees and stumbling over uneven terrain, entangled by thick undergrowth. The dead swarmed over them like ants. I searched for Andriet amid the tumult, but too many combatants cluttered the scene.

A shimmering haze of white-blue rose like a barricade, sparking where the Salmun's white magic clashed. I inhaled sharply. The Razohan's magic wielders.

Mercy on our souls, where was Andriet?

About to join the fray, an unseen force sent me tumbling over a root, crashing onto my back, the impact driving the breath from my lungs. I screamed in sudden agony, then groaned as I rolled onto my knees, my left arm throbbing painfully from shoulder to fingertips. Despite the pain, I foolishly tried to use it to rise, but it collapsed beneath me. Agony flared as I fell forward, face meeting dirt.

Vulnerable on the ground, I managed to rise to my knees, then froze, feeling a prickling sensation across my shoulders. I sprang up, sword ready, only to face a tall, willowy woman in a dark cloak, thick woven jacket, pants, and long leather boots. Her black hair, streaked with white like the Salmun's magic, flowed loosely over her shoulders, framing a still-beautiful aged face. Her eyes, blood-colored, held no visible threat except their hue.

"I had expected someone else." Power laced each word she spoke. "I should've known he wouldn't risk so much for something so fleeting as a beautiful face. That you're nothing special makes me believe the worst. I fear this is deeper than lust."

I braced for more.

"So young," she advanced, and I gripped my sword tighter, useless as it was against magic. "I would spare you, if not for your allegiance to my enemy and the Sistern blood running through your veins."

"I hope to see you suffer for yours," I countered, relying on the dead as my only hope, but spiritweaving took all my concentration. I couldn't deal with her and call the dead to my aid.

"Yes, I see why he's lost his senses for you, but to risk the fates of so many for one woman."

"Tamas?"

Her mouth tightened. "He revealed his name?"

"I also know his face. Easier to find my enemy."

"If only he thought the same. Kinder to have ended you on the ship. Tamas is a na?ve fool, led by his heart."

I had thought I understood his mercy, but betrayal twisted everything. "I'm sure he regrets it now. Once I land a dagger through his eye, he'll regret it even more."

"You wouldn't have lasted this long if he regretted it."

"You say that because you don't know me," I tightened my grip. "He bit me, you know?"

She sighed, pressing fingers to her brow. "The fool. But things have turned out as they have."

Dropping her hand, she sighed. "I hold no ill will towards you, disciple, but I can't let you live." She raised her arms, and a spark of bluish light formed between her palms.

"Wait." Dear Mother. I had no defense against magic. "Will you at least tell me why I have to die?"

Aetherius . My soul word surfaced beneath my skin as if eager to do my bidding.

"Because you're a disciple, child. I would bear any other, but the Sistern are our enemies, as much as the Razohan are yours."

"I'm an unfaithful disciple." I loathed to plead for my life, but if I could trick, beg, or fight my way out of this, for Andriet's sake, I would.

"There's no such thing."

"Oh really, then you know less about the Sistern than you think."

The hard lines around her mouth softened. "Such courage. Yes, that trait in a woman is his greatest weakness. I say from my heart it's a shame you must die."

Distracted by the clash of swords close by, I glanced over my shoulder. I knew better than to take my eyes off my enemy, but I couldn't shrug my fear for Andriet.

A sharp pain pierced my side, propelling me backward to crash against the trunk of a tree. In the process, I lost my sword. I rolled to the side in search of my weapon, when suddenly, tingles erupted around the bite mark. Then, a different sensation burgeoned deep within, akin to a pull on my heart. This feeling intensified, transforming into a heavy burden. A cry welled up in my throat as immense fear gripped me, and a sense of desperation seized my throat.

"Romelda," came a sharp shout. And for a moment I thought I'd yelled the name.

Hearing his voice split me in two. My heart should burn with fury, not weep. I tried to pick myself up from my position slumped at the foot of the tree, but whatever magic Romelda had thrown at me smarted worse than a blade through my gut.

Tamas landed in front of me, sparing me one look. When our eyes met, I saw his silent plea. I also saw his sorrow and felt the pain of his heart, coring straight through me. His gaze then raked my body. On seeing the wound at my side, his eyes blazed like fire. I felt on fire, an unexplainable fury boiling within me. He turned back to Romelda, using his body as a shield against her attack.

"Stand aside, Tamas. You know it must be done."

"You made me a promise," he growled.

"Don't be a fool, young Razohan. She must die along with the last of the Tannard line."

"You promised me." His voice faltered.

"I bear the mark of one who swore the oath. You know where my allegiance lies. My life is in service to the Bone Throne. I won't turn from my duty because you have grown weak."

"You were never going to save her." Betrayal hardened his voice.

He made her promise to spare me. The understanding embraced my heart. No. I clenched my fists and teeth, forcing iron into my will. Don't be this weak. Love had no part in any war.

"You bit her, Tamas. There's no greater show of stupidity than that."

"Don't make me choose, Romelda. You won't like my choice."

"After all my years of servitude, you think I would allow you to ruin everything when we are so close?" Her voice thrummed with the power in her veins.

"There's another way."

"There is no other way, Tamas," she shouted.

"Please, just listen to me."

In his voice, I heard his respect for her. But this was a plea. Maybe not even a nightmare could withstand her power.

"There is too much at risk. Now stand aside."

For long moments Tamas remained like stone, saying nothing. From behind, I watched his head sink, dragging his shoulders into a slump. I could imagine the betrayal he felt, the fight he would have to win in his mind before he could speak.

"I won't move. I can't." The last sentence fractured my heart. I squeezed my eyes closed, feeling the moisture on my eyelashes dampening my cheeks.

"You know what she is?" Romelda growled.

"I do. I heard what the augur said, as did you. I asked if you still believed in me."

With a frown, I looked from Romelda to him and back.

"What are you talking about?" Romelda said. Her eyes widened, then she stared at me. "Then she has to die."

"No," Tamas shouted. "There's another?—"

I let out a cry as his body stiffened. His voice caught in his throat, and his sword slipped from his grasp, plunging into the ground beside his feet.

"You'll rage. But in the end, young Razohan, you'll see my wisdom."

Slowly, Tamas sank to his knees before me. Dear Mother, this was it. My soul word fled me. I spun, searching for my sword, and spied it wedged in the groove of a large root. I would have to climb over too many obstacles to reach it.

"Please, Romelda," Tamas forced through whatever seizure of magic Romelda placed upon him. "I beg you. Don't kill her. I can't lose her."

"This moment is too vital to risk on something as fragile and unpredictable as love."

My side screamed as I heaved myself over the root I leaned against, then I dragged my exhausted, wounded body across the ground, reaching for my sword while searching for the power inside of me.

"Don't take this personally, child. But you're too dangerous to keep alive."

Romelda pursued me. She had left Tamas on his knees, his back to me, sparing him the sight of my impending demise. The small shudders of his body were the only resistance he could muster against her crippling magic.

"Please, Romelda, I beg you," he cried, thrashing his head from side to side. "I've pledged my life to her."

Romelda paused a moment, closing her eyes as she gently shook her head. "I know about that, young fool." She returned her attention to me. "Time will heal that wound. When she's dead, you'll be free again."

Tamas roared, but Romelda ignored him.

"Come to me," I cried, near delirious with a conflicting mix of fear and fury. The two emotions seamed together, infusing my pain-soaked body with the clarity of mind I needed to abandon my sword and dive for my dagger, still sheathed at my baldric.

"Spirits," I yelled as I threw the dagger.

To my horror, a bright blaze of blue light flowed from Romelda's palms and seized the dagger mid-air. I shielded my eyes with my forearm. Then as the brilliance faded, I pulled my arm away and uttered a cry, seeing Romelda untouched.

"For Tamas's sake, and your own, I'll make this fast," she said, already readying her next strike. The glow of her magic reflected off her face, sharpening her features into cruel looking arrows and tainting her bloodstained eyes a deep purple.

I tensed, preparing for the impact as a streak of white arced overhead, striking the light in Romelda's hands. The force of the collision hurled her backward. Not pausing to check if she remained down, I lunged for my sword, resolved to drive it through her heart before she had the chance to incinerate me. When I spun around, I saw Tamas on his feet, freed from her magic.

We stared at each other, my sword ready to strike while Tamas remained still and weaponless, his arms splayed to either side as if offering himself up to my attack. Too many moments passed with neither of us speaking while the surrounding forest filled with the cries of the dying and magic marred the night sky with lethal brilliance.

The thought of Andriet was never far from my head, but Tamas was the one to cast a spell. Not even the pain at my side could draw my attention from him. An ache greater than any physical pain destroyed my strength to keep fighting. My body had yet to forget our moment together. It never would. Neither would my heart. How could I hold my conflicting desires and stay sane?

"It wasn't meant to go like this," he said.

"I want to believe you." More than anything, I wanted to believe in Tamas. I wanted there to be an us.

But his people and my people were killing each other in a war of beliefs and ideals. How could there be unity?

"We can decide what we are to each other. Enemies or allies. It's up to us, Tressya. No one else."

My feet moved the same time his did, cautiously closing the distance between us.

"Andriet," Daelon cried.

The shrill cry rushed up my spine. I spun. What I saw turned me to stone. In that moment, the Mother's training failed me. Daelon fell to his knees beside Andriet, placing his hands around the sword embedded in Andriet's stomach.

"Andriet," I screamed. No.

My will was strong, but not strong enough to hold back death. Freed from the horror that had seized my body, I tried to rush to Andriet's side, but Tamas wrapped an arm around my waist and held me firm against him.

"No, Tressya. There's too many fighters. They'll cut you down."

"No," I whimpered, seeing the truth in what he said. They swarmed over us like ants. Some had even turned to beasts. But the spirits were equally devastating. The war was not won. We did have a chance.

I struggled in his arms. "Let me go." I funneled all my fury into my shout.

"I can't let you go." He buried his face in my neck. "You should know that."

"No." This time my voice held venom. "Let me go, Tamas," I screamed, kicking out with my legs and failing in his arms. "Andriet," I cried, feeling my powerlessness in Tamas's arms, feeling his iron grip and knowing he would never let me go.

There was an eddy of wind, a wet sound I knew too well. Then Tamas jerked backward, taking me with him as he fell. I landed across his torso, my legs tangled at a painful angle, my wounded side screaming. Half on my side, I felt a slippery wetness ooze across my cheek and smelt the iron tang of blood.

"Tamas?" I jerked up, ignoring my screaming side.

A dagger lodged in his chest, dangerously close to his heart.

"No! Tamas." I placed my palm over the wound, trying to stem the flow. In no time, the slimy warmth of his blood coated my hands.

"Tressya, come on." Daelon's words were an echo, bouncing off the walls in my head. "The Salmun are here. They'll guide us to the cave."

No! This was my curse for what I'd done: my fate was to lose the man I had abandoned my duty to be with—the man I loved.

I shook my head as I stared into eyes I'd first seen less than two days ago, but already they were my most cherished sight. He reached up and pressed his hand to my cheek. "You should go." His voice was strong, determined.

"Tressya. Andriet needs us."

"I can't," I whispered, my voice wobbling through my tears. "You wouldn't leave me, so why expect me to leave you?"

"Tressya," Daelon shouted.

"Go," I yelled over my shoulder, anger searing up my throat. "I'll catch you up."

"Leave with the Salmun. Let them protect you," Tamas said.

I shook my head. Now he was slipping from me, I knew without a doubt what I wanted.

"Andriet needs you."

"You need me more." I need you more.

"Shh," Tamas crooned, patting my hair. "I promise not to die."

"I don't trust your promises. You're saying it to make me leave. You've manipulated me from the start. This time I don't believe you." I wiped a tear. "You bit me because you wanted to always find me. But did you ever think about me. That I may want to always find you." Always want to be with you.

He huffed a laugh, then grimaced in pain.

"Don't do that," I barked. "You'll make the blood flow faster."

I pulled his hand from my cheek and clasped it tight in mine.

"I never dreamed I would be privileged enough to deserve your tears." He wiped one from my cheek with his thumb. "I wish it had turned out differently. I had so many plans for us."

"Shut up. You still have plans. You can still make them happen. With me, Tamas. We can make them happen together. You said so yourself."

He smiled, but it failed to convince me. "I'll see."

I dropped his hand and seized his cheeks between my palms. "Don't you dare give in. You said we could choose what we would be to each other. I choose allies. Do you hear me?"

"Only allies. I had hoped for more."

I could feel my panic slipping through my vicious grip. I closed my eyes, fighting surrender. Then I opened them and stared down at him. "Of course we're more. We're so much more it hurts."

The long cry of agony sounded close. I looked up, facing the devastation both the spirits and northerners wrought on each other. So much death for power.

"Tressya." The feather light touch of Tamas's fingers tickled my chin. "I want you to go."

"And leave you to die alone," I sobbed.

"Listen." He gently tugged on my braid that had fallen over my shoulder. "I need to change into the Huungardred beast. I must do it before I'm too weak. It's the only way. I want you to be long gone before then."

I closed my eyes as I kissed the finger he ran across my lips. This simple touch, I wanted to remember the most. "You stupid fool, I've seen your beast, and I'm not afraid."

"That's not it." He grimaced as talking turned to pain.

Because you don't want me to see you die . "I won't leave you alone."

"Stubborn, little princess."

I pressed my fingers against his lips. "Don't talk." My fate was to sit helplessly beside him and watch him die. "Promise me you'll live."

"The Nazeen won't let me die."

"If you do, I'll drag your spirit back from the veil and make you my slave."

His chuckle made him cough, which oozed more blood from his wound.

I bit back a sob. "Don't do that."

"Tressya, you need to do as I say. You need to survive."

"So do you."

"Listen." He snaked a hand around my neck pulling me closer. "It's time I told you the reason I spared you. I didn't kill you because I suspected you were more than you seemed."

I feathered my fingers over his lips. "Don't talk."

He pulled them away. "Your bloodborn, Tressya. I don't know how, but I'm certain you are. We're the same, you and I. We're more than partners. We are one."

"I don't understand you."

"You will soon enough." He feebly pushed me away. "Go, now. You're the only one who can prevent the Salmun from winning."

I shook my head.

"You're killing me by staying."

If there were words to make me leave, that was it.

"Andriet needs you."

At this moment, Andriet was far from my mind. But he was my dear friend, and I couldn't abandon him too. War gave us nothing but grief. At the end, would I care who was the victor when everyone I loved had died?

I kissed him gently, fearful of hurting him, but he seized my wrists, pulling me closer and driving our kiss with a suffocating fever. We swallowed my tears, then he broke our kiss and licked the tears on my chin.

"Is there a word stronger than love?" he asked.

I didn't hesitate. "Yes. It's lodged in here." I pressed one hand over my heart, my other hand gently over his, my fingers oozing through his blood. "It doesn't need a name, neither does it need to be spoken."

I closed my eyes. "Promise me. Promise me I'll see you again."

"I promise," he said.

I desperately required the Mother's teachings, needing discipline more than ever to force my legs to run. Leaving Tamas lying in his own blood, I fled, trailing my devastation behind me. I'd left a piece of my heart in Merania, but now, it felt as though I'd torn out the entire thing, leaving it to bleed out over Tamas. My streaming tears blinded my path. I staggered, stumbled, and fell to my knees three times, finding it harder to rise with each fall.

It didn't take me long to leave the spirits' light behind. At that point, I thought I would plunge into darkness and run aimlessly in circles looking for the cave, but it seemed the Salmun had anticipated my need. A faint shimmering light appeared through the trees ahead, showing me the way.

I ran until my legs felt like stone. Then I spied the looming pillars of the outer rocks, rising like Ashenlands beasts to guard the entrance to the cave. I hurried through, thinking I would stumble into darkness, but the light continued, guiding me through the maze to the cave entrance.

When I heard a low moanful wail, I staggered to a halt. I swallowed and pushed forward, marching, then running on the downward slope of the cave floor until I stumbled out into the cavernous chamber, alight with a mysterious glow of the Salmun's magic. Atop stakes of wood blazed balls of light, casting an eerie glow on the ancient etchings around the chamber.

Five Salmun were present, as well as a group of soldiers and noblemen. My gaze flittered over them before settling on Daelon and Andriet. It had been Daelon's cry I heard at the entrance. He was kneeling beside Andriet, imploring the Salmun to save his life. His pleas filled the chamber, resonating like a chorus of a thousand voices.

Lethargy weighed on my body, turning my legs to lead. The burden of my tortured heart, which I'd dragged along since leaving Tamas, prevented me from moving closer. No agony was greater than that which cleaved the soul. I was convinced my heart had ceased beating, overwhelmed by all the death.

I expelled hard breaths through my nose, then compelled my feet to move toward Daelon. Crouching down, I avoided looking at Andriet because, for once, I wasn't strong enough to confront the truth. Soon, his spirit would rise, and I wasn't prepared to witness it.

I snatched my hands back from touching Daelon, on spying Tamas's blood, turning my hands red.

"The last Tarragona heir is dead," said a nobleman from beside me.

"What does that mean for the prophecy?" said another.

"It means no Tannard will inherit the Etherweave. Those bloody northerners have seen to it. We should've stayed in the battle. Let them slaughter us as fighters, not cowards hiding in a cave." The man's voice rose in panic.

"You fled with the rest of us. No one made you come," grouched another.

No women or common folk stood amongst them. Did this mean all the women and common folk had already died, or did these noblemen and soldiers flee to save their own lives, leaving the more vulnerable behind? Not one of them knew how hard Andriet fought to save them all.

"All is well." Orphus's voice rang out in the cave.

Upon hearing his voice, I glanced up. His face was hooded, concealing where his gaze lingered as the crowd of survivors parted, allowing him to pass through.

"The northerners are defeated," he intoned with a finality that made everyone present murmur in confusion and doubt. "The spirits of the Ashenlands saw to our victory."

Even concealed beneath his hood, I knew he was looking at me. Flanking the survivors, the rest of the Salmun moved to circle Andriet, Daelon, and me.

"But we've lost the last Tannard heir to the throne and no way of claiming the Etherweave. We're as good as dead without an heir. The northerners will simply regroup and attack with more force, and we'll have nothing to defend ourselves with now."

"The Salmun have proved themselves weak in defense of Tarragona."

Fear bred dissent.

"Calm yourselves," Orphus intoned, showing no impatience toward the noblemen's accusations. "Everything has transpired as it should. We have lost nothing."

"How can you say that?"

Gradually rising to my feet, I eyed the hooded figures of the Salmun, feeling a sickness churn in my battered stomach that stemmed from something other than hunger.

"Because an heir to the Tannard line still lives."

"What?" A man surged forward. "Who?"

In unison, the Salmun pulled back their hoods. Gasps wove through the cave like ripples on a pond. There was little distinguishing each of them, except the weird ink markings on their faces and scalps.

Daelon stood up beside me and took my hand. In his eyes, I saw trepidation; in mine, he would've seen fear. My heart thudded so loudly, it surprised me that the cave ceiling remained intact.

"The Etherweave within the rock responded to her touch," Orphus continued, not taking his eyes from me.

"How can that be?" one cried.

"A bloodborn," snapped someone.

"No, she is not bloodborn, but of our line — a sole surviving heir of the Levenian line." He scanned the cavern, deliberately meeting each gaze before refocusing on me. "I command you all to bow before your queen," he declared, then raised his arms high. "This marks a new beginning for the House of Tannard."

In shock, I watched as the Salmun knelt before me. A ripple of unease emanated from the other survivors. Then, exchanging looks with one another, they gradually followed the Salmun's lead, bowing down one by one.

‘You are of my making'. The words of the Mother echoed through my head.

Mother, what have you done to me?

Thank you for reading. I hope you loved Tressya's and Tamas' story. The next in the series is The Reluctant Queen. Will the two of them unite, or will they both be consumed by the power they seek to control?