Rise of the Sparrows (Relics of Ar'Zac #1) (11 page)

“Rachael.” Squinting at the light penetrating her eyes Rachael sat up, surprised to see Cephy sitting on her bed. Couldn't she sleep well? Rachael didn't remember her getting up.

The sweet smell of honey and freshly baked bread entered her nose, the bright light too blinding for the middle of the night.

She sat up with a jolt.

“How long was I asleep?” She couldn't believe she had been so careless. “Come here.” She pulled Cephy closer, examining her carefully. Cephy seemed to be okay, no new scratches anywhere that Rachael could see. Her hands were still bandaged but no blood had stained the white sheets around her hands.

She jumped up out of bed, searching the room for any signs that the men had entered while they had been asleep, but found nothing.

“I don't know.” Cephy rubbed her eyes. Rachael had to admit that Cephy looked much better. She looked well rested, and colour had returned to her cheeks.

Relieved to see that the men hadn't tried anything, she relaxed.

“Come on.” Cephy took her hands into hers as well as she could, and made Rachael get up. “Arlo made breakfast!” Too stunned by her own foolishness to protest, Rachael let Cephy pull her out of the small bed chamber and into the room they had been in the night before. Now that it was light outside soft daylight flooded every corner. The fire in the hearth had long since died down, and a gentle gust of wind cleared out the air and exchanged it for a fresh breeze thanks to the wide open door. The distinctive
thud
of an axe hitting wood was accompanied by the lively chirping of birds.

“Did you sleep well?” She jumped when she heard Cale's voice. He sat on a chair in the corner.

When her eyes fell on him, the tight feeling in her gut from the night before returned. She frowned. “I did.”

“Good! Have a seat, Arlo made some fresh bread earlier. It's still warm, I think.” Against her will Rachael felt saliva collecting in her mouth. When was the last time she had real, warm bread? Aeron's bread had been good, but she doubted that Aeron had made it herself. With magic spells, yes, but not with her own hands. Skill had gone into both, but it wasn't the same.

Careful not to take her eyes off him, Rachael sat down besides Cephy who was already spreading the thick honey over her slice.

Hesitant, Rachael mimicked her and took a bite. The bread was not only warm but also the best she had ever eaten, and she knew she would have to thank Arlo sooner or later. He didn't have to take them in, and Cale didn't have to save them from Aeron. They didn't have to tend to Cephy's wounds and they certainly didn't have to prepare breakfast for them. No matter how reluctant she was, thanking them was the right thing to do.

The honey was sweet and warmed up by the bread. Rachael felt like she could do anything, save committing regicide.

“I'm sorry if our conversation last night was a little too much. We know there is a lot to take in.” Hearing Cale's voice caused her mood to drop. Why did he have to ruin it? That conversation was the last thing she wanted to talk about. Cephy's words from the night before echoed in her head even louder.

“I don't understand” she finally said, dropping her bread back on to the plate. “Why me? Why can't it be someone else?”

Cale shrugged. “I'm sorry. I should have handled it better last night. Killing King Aeric is probably not what you expected to hear from us.”

She scoffed, glaring at him. “Is that the reason you saved us? Because you need something?” She had known that there was an ulterior motive. It was the way it had always been, and it was how it always would be.

Cale got up from his seat in the corner and sighed, sitting down opposite her. “Yes and no. It is true that without you the Sparrows have already lost. We couldn't allow Aeron to kill you.”

The lump in her throat tightened. “Why would she kill us? We only just met her!”

“The prophecy. It names you as the one who kills the King. The one who ends the world as we know it.”

“You say that like it's a good thing.” She didn't want to kill King Aeric, and she definitely didn't want to end the world.

“It
is
a good thing because right now a lot of people are hostile towards people like you. Didn't you wish once when you were growing up that you could be like the other kids?”

Rachael stopped herself from nodding. Cephy nodded slowly, looking distant.

“How will killing King Aeric do that? There are plenty of others like him. Someone else will take his place and you'll have achieved nothing.”

An uncomfortable gleam stepped into Cale's eyes. “That's why we need you, Rachael. We need you to kill King Aeric, and take his place.”

Dumbfounded, Rachael stared at her sweet breakfast. The energetic sounds of the forest seemed too joyful for a conversation like this, and she wished she could ask the birds to stop singing for a moment.

“I wanted to tell you last night, but everything else we had told you was already too much. I thought it could wait.”

Rachael didn't know what to say.

“You're mad.”

“You have magic, Rachael, there's nothing you can't do! You’re 'the Sparrow who sees ahead'. The ancient prophets wouldn't have named you as such if they didn't believe you could do it.”

Her head spun and felt too heavy for her neck. “Why me? There must be others who can see bad things about to happen! I can't even control this, there must be people who can!”

“There aren't.” Rachael thought she had heard incorrectly. Was Cale really telling her that she was the only person alive who could see ahead the way she did? “True prophets are rare, Rachael. If there are others we haven't found them, and the Sparrows have searched far and wide before we found you. There is no one else.”

That was hard to believe. Cephy could use fire in any way she wanted to, and so could Aeron. There were likely other people who could do the same thing, too. Why was she the only one who saw terrible accidents before they happened? It wasn't fair.

With one foot in the door Arlo leaned his axe against the door frame, and stepped inside. “Aye, lass, I'm afraid Cale here is right. True prophets were thought to be extinct for many years, until we found you. There is no one else it could be.”

Her mind whirled. Her life could either consist of being homeless on the streets of a town that hated her, or she could agree to assassinate the king and become the next ruler of Rifarne. Was there no middle ground? How could these strangers just believe in her, when they knew next to nothing about her?

“Well, you've made a mistake. I can't control this curse, I don't see how I could be of any help to you.” It was as simple as that. If she was their last hope, they were doomed to fail.

“We know” Cale said, holding her gaze. “None of us have ever taught anyone how to be a prophet, but my sister has taught many others like you. The only difference is in the magic they use. She has agreed to teach you as best as she can, if you'll let her.” Cale sounded so hopeful. His eyes were pleading with her to reconsider, even Arlo and Cephy seemed to be begging her from across the table. How had she become entangled in this mess? It seemed like only yesterday she had to beg for just one old slice of stale bread.

“I can't do this.” Rachael got up, barely even feeling the pain when her knees bashed into the corner of the large table. Cale tried to get up after her but Arlo shot him a look. Despite the door being wide open the air inside the hut was too oppressive. She needed to get somewhere with an open sky and no walls, where she could breathe and be alone.

King Aeric Ellery paced up and down the throne room of his palace, contemplating his options. Just when had his life dealt him this terrible hand? The people with magic were a danger beyond belief, but to slaughter them all... His people had spoken, and he would enforce their voices as he had vowed to do many years ago. If the people were this afraid to be backed into such a corner, then he would stand before them as their shield.

Still, to now seek help from the very same people he had promised to eradicate – it was not right.

Finally, he stopped and took a look at his two guests. His most trusted commander and some Mist Woman he had never even heard of before were sitting at his long-table, patiently waiting for him to speak—or, rather, his
commander
looked patient. She looked anything but, and as dangerous as his people had told him. She would have been beautiful otherwise. Her long, curly black hair which flowed around her slender shoulders complimented her soft features. The look in her eyes, however, ruined the image. A glare as cold as death itself dug itself into his heart. She would not be patient much longer.

“Commander Videl! A report of... recent events, please. For our guest.”

The man nodded and rose from his chair, looking like the very embodiment of justice. King Aeric had heard what had happened before, but he still found it hard to believe even now, despite the many bandages which seemed to be the only thing holding the commander's body together.

“My Lord, I and my men had ridden to Blackrock – a small village to the north, near the Boneanvil Mountains – on the urgent request of its people. There were two witches living there, one prophetess and one who controls fire.” A look almost more terrifying than that of the Mist Woman entered his expression. King Aeric had seen his First Commander angry before, but his entire unit had never been wiped out like this. Most prisoners came freely, knowing that they had no other options left. They were always on foot, whereas the White Guard had enough horses for every man serving. They knew they had nowhere to run. According to the commander, these two girls had not only run but they had burnt his men to a crisp. Beyond a doubt, they had to be punished. To have magic and to have murdered so many in cold blood... There could be no other option.

“And what happened then?” He needed to move this on. There were important meetings to go to, never mind the usual sitting he did with his loyal subjects. No doubt they would report nothing but more crimes against their freedom again, all of them caused by magic.

It seemed magic was the problem behind everything these days.

“We managed to track them down and pull them out of their hidy-hole, my Lord. The little one burnt us all down.” The fire in his eyes gave an accurate image of the very same fire that had engulfed his men. “The little bitch would have gotten me, too, if she had gotten a good look at me. I was the last one standing, and she barely had the time to pay attention to me.” There was a hunger in his eyes King Aeric recognised well. The commander was always ready to bring another witch to justice, and he would have these two as well. He simply needed a better unit, and he would receive it.

On the other side of the table, the Mist Woman chuckled.

“What is so amusing to you, my good woman? Do you not feel any grief for those who have died?” He knew she was far more dangerous than some little girl, but this was his city and his throne room, and those had been good men. He would not allow her to be disrespectful in his home.

“I merely laugh at your so-called men. These were children, slaughtered by other children. You cannot truly hope to murder the Fox with little boys' games, do you?” The commander shot her a look equally as dangerous.

“Remember who you are talking to! This is King Aeric, son of our beloved King Rorden, ruler of—”

She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “I know who he claims to be, commander. I say, if you want to be a king you will have to grow up first.”

Commander Videl looked ready to strike her down with his bare hands where she stood. “How dare you! We should hang you like all the others, you filthy b—”

“
Enough
!” His voiced thundered through his throne room. Had he possessed any hint of magic himself the walls and very foundations would have shaken with respect. The Mist Woman, however, did not look ready to show even the slightest sign of respect. “Commander, why don't you introduce me to our guest?”

Scowling at her, the commander clenched his fists at his side as best as he could in his condition, and began to speak when she interrupted him.

“I can speak for myself, my Lord. I am Aeron, and I know how you can defeat those girls.”

The commander looked ready to protest once more, but he knew when to stay his hand. If what she said was true then he was not about to lose their one chance at getting those witches. King Aeric knew him well enough to know exactly what he was thinking.

He was not sure he liked where any of this was going, but he was at the very beginning of a war he didn't want to wage. When the enemy had the upper hand, which they beyond a doubt had, then he would have to employ the means to defeat them—no matter how uncomfortable that made him. It was his duty as Rifarne's King to protect his people, no matter the cost.

“Speak.”

“The one who is of any danger to you at all is the older of the two. Her name is Rachael, the prophetess your commander talked about. She is harmless, her magic of no use whatsoever.”

“How can she be of any danger to me, then?” He did not like having to ask for information. He was the King,. Information should be given to him, not begged for.

“Because prophecy names her so.”