Rise of the Sparrows (Relics of Ar'Zac #1) (7 page)

“Why you filthy little sh-” His hand let go of Rachael when his arm caught fire. Both men screamed in unison as they tried in vain to put out the flames. Rachael knew they would only stop burning if Cephy willed them to, and Cephy looked too terrified for any rational thought.

“Run!” Cephy didn't need to be told twice. Rachael tried not to gag as boiling blood stained the floor and the first man dropped into the snow, his head a charred bloody mess.

Too close to them Rachael heard the cries of more soldiers and that terrible voice of their commander as they took up their pursuit. The clanging of steel filled the air as they drew their swords, followed by the trampling of horse hooves. Rachael grabbed Cephy's hand and dashed off deeper into the woods, praying to whichever deity might listen that they would somehow make it out of this alive.

Aeron poured herself a steaming cup of tea, inhaling the rich fragrance before taking the first sip. To think that after all these years, the Fox was within reach. And it was bringing her the Sparrow! She had lived a long life waiting for prophecy to catch up with her, to come to life, and now, finally, it was doing just that right outside her front door. How she had waited! Her mother had prepared her well, almost two-hundred years ago. She had waited patiently, but now that she was so close to getting what she wanted, she was excited, even thrilled.

Careful not to waste any of the aroma, she inhaled the scent of five different herbs and leaves. It was her favourite tea, fatal if not made properly, but so very useful when prepared by the right hands. Her hands. Her mother had taught her how, many years ago. It was the only thing she still had left of the woman, besides the dagger and her name. Aeron. The bringer of destruction. 'Maiden of Death', her mother had once called her. Aeron had revelled in it, had loved the power her mother had bestowed upon her. It was an important fate which she had been given, and now, finally, she was able to fulfil it. The first steps, vital precautions, she had already taken, but she couldn't be too careful. She had to succeed, no matter the cost. The sacrifices she had made on Kaethe had been small, but worth it. The Dark One shared her mind and soul – all she had to do now was wait for the right moment, and take it. Nothing was more important than her success in this.

Once again, in her mind, Aeron reminded herself of the words her mother had force-fed her until the day she had killed her. The prophecy she needed to stop if she were to succeed. The ancient words were beautiful. Stunning perfection. Instructions for her, so she would know what had to be done.

A smile played on her full lips. The wait was nearly at an end, now. Soon her Fox would lead the damned Sparrow right to her door, and not long after the world would die in a flawless explosion of horror and fire.

Struggling to catch her breath Rachael came to a stop, allowing herself to drop into the snow to steady her shaking legs. Cephy was right behind her, hiding her tears in Rachael's moth-eaten sleeves as they both inhaled the clear winter air. The screaming had stopped a while ago, the smell of burning flesh no longer carried on the breeze. Rachael hadn't seen them all die, but she knew that Cephy had panicked and had unleashed the merciless fire of the Dark Mists themselves amongst the soldiers. The last time she had dared to turn around even the commander had been too preoccupied with his burning body to come after them. How long ago had that been? Her legs felt like they had been running for years. Her feet were too heavy to move another inch, and it was tempting to stay in the powdery snow and cool down until she could be sure that the madness had ended.

“Are the bad men gone?”

Still shaking from fear, Rachael risked a look behind her, back in the direction they had come from. The snow was undisturbed apart from the small indents their feet had made. Out here in the middle of winter it would have been easy to spot anyone who wasn't supposed to be there, even a White Guard dressed in their traditional white armour.

Rachael nodded. “Yes, they are. I think they are all dead.” She didn't know what to make of the girl who was now holding on to her middle, crying into her rags yet who had burnt down seasoned soldiers without trouble. She had never met anyone as fragile or scared as Cephy, or anyone as dangerous. The girl had unleashed unimaginable pain upon those men but had needed her permission all the same, despite her vast destructive power.  Their screams were still ringing in her ears. No one who screamed like that in their last moments had died a peaceful death. They had been terrible people, but had they deserved that?

She reminded herself that, if Cephy hadn't done anything, they'd be on their way to her nightmare right now, tied up and helpless in the back of a cart. Better them than her. She had heard stories of men like these. The smile one of the guards had given her had forever burned itself into her memory. There was no denying it—she owed Cephy her life. As horrible a death as they had suffered, the soldiers hadn't left them with any other options.

Fight, or be hunted down—it was the way of things, and a lesson Rachael had learned early on. Never had it been more true than today.

“Come on.” Rachael said. “We need to find shelter, light another fire.”

“Are we far from the next town?” Rachael wished she had the answer to that. They were too exposed here, the White Guard was likely to return with reinforcements. They couldn't stay out in the open, uncovered as they were. The woods housed other dangers, too, like wolves or other things Rachael didn't know about. The sooner they found shelter, the better.

“I don't know. We've been out here for a while, there's got to be something. Let's go.”

Still holding on to Rachael's old clothes, Cephy followed her through the snow. It wasn't as thick here as it had been before, when they had first sat down inside the hollow tree. Maybe it was a sign that there were people nearby.

The farther they walked, the more dense the forest got. The direction they took never seemed to matter. Rachael doubted the main road was nearby but all she could do was continue walking.

The sun slowly rose around them, dipping the forest into a dark shade of red until the snow looked stained with blood.

“Keep an eye out for another tree like the one you saw earlier. We could spend the night in one and continue tomorrow.” Cephy nodded. It wasn't ideal and they would need to stay warm throughout the night, but it was better than being hunted or being despised inside Blackrock. At least out here they had a chance at freedom.

Darkness came, and with it some unsettling sounds—a creaking branch here, an owl there, and Rachael was no longer sure that spending the night outside was a good idea. She was exhausted, but the sounds of the waking forest kept her awake.

“Rachael, look.” Small bright spots burnt through the darkness like a beacon. “I think it's a house.”

“I think you're right.” Relief washed through her. “Come on, maybe they'll let us stay.” It was beyond her why anyone would want to live this far out, but she was in no position to argue.

Energised by the sudden appearance, they began to run. More than once they stumbled over small branches hidden underneath the snow or large rocks in their way, but finally the house took shape. It wasn't large, barely more than a hut, but the light illuminating the glistening snow around it made it look warm. The orange glow coming from the windows was the most inviting light Rachael had ever seen. If they were lucky the people inside would be understanding, or at least allow them to rest until morning.

“Stay behind me, I'll knock.” Cephy nodded, peeking out from behind Rachael as they watched the door.

They heard faint sounds coming from inside. Cooking pots clanging against the surface of a worktop, the distinct sound of a chair scratching across the floor, and the sweet smell of tea hung in the air. It was a perfect home, Rachael thought, with all the perfect noises and smells.

The door opened, and Cephy grabbed hold of her hand. She had been thrown off someone's doorstep often for begging, but whoever lived here didn't know her, or Cephy. They had no reason to be afraid of two young girls who had gotten lost in the forest at night.

It wasn't enough to stop her heart from racing.

“Yes? Can I help you?” Back in Blackrock people had grown contempt and lazy over the years, and it showed in their figures. This lady was nothing like them. She was tall, had the eyes and hair to match the night around them, and a kind smile in her eyes. Rachael had never seen anyone like her. She looked every bit like a good spirit come to save them.

“We're lost. We played in the woods and it got dark, and now we can't find our way back.” She had never wanted anyone to believe her quite so badly.

“You poor things! Come inside, I can brew you some tea so you girls can warm up. I don't have much room, but I have some blankets stored away. You can use those tonight, they will keep you warm.”

It was more than Rachael could have hoped for. Relieved, she nodded, following the lady inside.

She watched with a steaming mug of tea warming her frozen insides as the lady rummaged through cupboards and cabinets, until she pulled out two comfortable looking blankets twice the size of her and Cephy combined.

“Wrap up warm, while I make you some more tea. You must be hungry, after having played outside in this weather all day! I have a bit of rabbit stew left. It’s not much, but you're welcome to it if you would like some.”

“Please!” The word had left Rachael's mouth before she could think better of herself. “If it's no trouble.” No one had ever offered her food like this. The stew smelled divine, and made her stomach contort into painful knots.

The lady offered a smile as warm as the scent of her tea. “Not at all. What are your names?”

“I'm Rachael. This is Cephy. We're... sisters. We're sisters from Blackrock.” From underneath the small gap Cephy had left in her blanket, she beamed up at Rachael.

“Well, it's lovely to meet you, Rachael and Cephy. My name is Aeron.”

Rachael had never been so comfortable in her entire life. Aeron had handed her and Cephy a nightgown each after offering to stitch up their clothes. Both of them had worn rags, but Rachael's clothes especially had been in bad shape. She had worn the same rags for years, and varying weather conditions as well as her growing body had stretched them out of shape. Her blanket, too, was beyond hope, but Lady Aeron had seemed certain that she could fix it, so Rachael hadn't objected. They were lucky to have found her hut and she wouldn't tell Aeron what she could and couldn't do when she was a grateful guest in her home.

The nightgowns Lady Aeron had given them were soft and Rachael's had caressed her skin all over as she had snuggled into it. Aeron had prepared two beds for them and gave them each one of her large blankets. Paired with the nightgown it had been the most luxurious night Rachael had ever spent. She had never slept so deeply, either. No dreams had ruined the night for her, and she had gotten a full night's rest without needing to worry about thieves, rapists or the White Guard.

She woke to the wonderful smells of tea and the happy chirping of birds. Cephy was still fast asleep, but Rachael couldn't stay put any longer. She had never dreamed that a place like this could exist, where people accepted her and looked after her so kindly.

Lady Aeron couldn't find out that they were cursed, or she would throw them out. Maybe she would even alert the guards. Rachael didn't want to overstay her welcome, but maybe Lady Aeron would allow them to stay a little while longer. She would need to think of a good reason should she ask. As far as Lady Aeron knew they had parents to go home to, and she wouldn't want to worry them.

Wrapping the soft blanket around herself as best as she could, Rachael got up and opened the door a tiny bit. The sunlight poured into the main room, and Aeron sat in one of its beams. She was humming to herself as she sipped a cup of tea. Rachael thought she looked every bit like a caring mother, waiting for her family to wake up.

“Good morning, Rachael. Have you slept well?” She blushed when Lady Aeron addressed her. Embarrassed that she had been caught she stepped out of the small room, and closed the door behind her so their conversation wouldn't wake Cephy. The girl had earned all the sleep she could get, since she had saved her life.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spy on you.”

Aeron offered her the kindest smile she had ever seen. “Nonsense! Come here. I've got something for you.”

Curious Rachael sat down at the table next to Aeron. She couldn't believe her eyes when her rags were spread out in front of her. They weren't rags any more, but beautiful clothes dyed in reds and blues.

“How did you-” Her hands reached out and touched the fabric. The clothes were as soft as they looked. If it wasn't for the tailoring itself she wouldn't have believed them to be the same shirt and trousers.

Aeron gave her a secretive smile. “I'll let you into a secret, if you promise not to tell anyone.”

Rachael nodded, eager to hear how Lady Aeon had performed such a miracle. She owed her too much to tell on her, and knew what it was like to keep a big secret. She had learned the importance too late for herself for it to be of any use, but she would take Lady Aeron's secret to the Dark Mists.

Lady Aeron laid out her old, hole-ridden blanket on the table, over the beautiful clothes. “Do you like the colour red?”

“I do, but-” The old blanket meant too much to her for it to change. It was all she had left of her parents, she didn't want it altered.

Sensing Rachael's reservation, Lady Aeron nodded. “It has sentimental value. I understand. I'll restore it to the way it looked when you first received it.”

Rachael blinked, not believing a word. She would have loved for her blanket to be whole again, but it couldn't be done. She was fine with it as it was. It was imperfect and flawed, just like her.

Lady Aeron placed her hands on the fabric, and spoke words in a language Rachael didn't understand. She had never heard words of such beauty before. Words as mystic as these didn't sound like they belonged here, in this world.

Before her eyes the blanket began to patch up. The holes stitched together until they were gone, and even the fine stitching disappeared to leave nothing but the fabric itself. Stains disappeared, and rough patches softened.

She had never seen anything like it. Her blanket which had been beyond repair had been fixed.

“You promised not to tell anyone, remember?” Rachael nodded, not trusting her voice. “I'm a Sorceress. I can use magic to do things, like fix your clothes or make you tea.”

Rachael was lost for words. Out of all the places they could have stumbled upon, they had found someone who was just like them.

Lady Aeron wouldn't betray them. She understood their need to keep their curse a secret. Only, looking at the miracle Lady Aeron had performed, she wondered if maybe their curse could be a gift, instead.

“Cephy and I have magic, too. But we can't do anything as beautiful as you.”

Aeron smiled and gave her a sympathetic nod. “And your parents don't mind? I didn't believe there was anyone in this world willing to tolerate us.”

Rachael frowned. She had to tell Aeron the truth, after all, and it didn't look like excuses would be necessary.

“We don't have parents. We're from Blackrock, but they asked the White Guard to take us away. I'm so sorry! We didn't mean to lie to you, but-” Aeron laid a gentle finger on Rachael's broken lips.

“It's all right. You don't have to explain. You and your sister are welcome to stay for as long as you like.”

Rachael couldn't believe their luck. “Thank you! We won't be a burden, I promise!”

Lady Aeron smiled. “Don't worry. I have waited all my life for girls like you to come along.”

“Where could they have gone? They can't have disappeared, they must be around here somewhere!” Panicked, Cale paced up and down the small living room in Arlo's cabin.

“It's possible they took the wrong turn when they left Blackrock and didn't follow the main road, lad. Maybe they-”

“No.”  Things couldn't have gone that wrong. If they had gone left, if
she
had them... His palms were sweating at the thought.

“And if they have, lad?” Cale shook his head at Arlo's persistence. There must have been another reason. He had come too far for it to end like this.

“Have you searched the forest?”

“Of course I have, lad! This isn't the first time I've done this!”

“And there were no traces at all?” Cale stopped, looking around the room for any impossible clues of the girls' whereabouts. He steadied himself on the large, heavy oak table, wondering if Arlo was right. Maybe they did have to consider the worst.

He had never felt so tired.

Arlo shook his head. “No, my boy. I'm sorry.”

“Then we need to find them. The Sparrows need them. We can't just sit here doing nothing.”

“And what do you think we should do?”

“I need to go and see her. At best she has seen the girls, at worst... I don't know what I can do if she has them, Arlo. I don't know why she would co-operate.”

You didn't argue with a Mist Woman and expected to get out of it alive. Aeron was the only Mist Woman in Rifarne, but she was enough. The young ones were dangerous because they were inexperienced and impulsive, and the old ones were just as lethal. What the young ones lacked in experience, the old ones had several lifetimes of. Both were terrible at thinking before acting.

Rifarne's Mist Woman was still young, and perhaps the most impulsive of all. Cale remembered the story Arlo had told him. His friend had had a run-in with her fifty years ago, when his greying hair had still been a warm brown. The scar across the man's chest was all the proof he needed. He couldn't let the Sparrow anywhere near the Mist Woman.

“You know I can't let you go, lad. She will do worse to you than she ever did to me, and I'm—”

“Lucky to be alive, I know. That's exactly why I have to go. We need them.”

“You need only one.” Cale didn't like arguing with Arlo. He owed the man his life and would never be able to repay him, but he couldn't leave the Sparrow with Aeron.

“And you think the Sparrow likely to leave the younger girl alone? They've escaped Blackrock together, Arlo. I don't think it'll be as easy as that.”

“I think it's a deal Aeron might just agree to. She is more likely to be interested in the younger one, don't you think? What did you say her name was again—Cedar, Cider...”

“It's Cephy. For the love of the Maker, how did you expect to recognise them if you don't even know their names?”

Arlo chuckled. “I'm kidding, my boy. Sit down, you’re working yourself into a right frenzy!”

The earthy, warming smell of Arlo's boar stew filled the room. In his whole life Cale hadn't known anyone who could cook up a stew with boar as well as Arlo, but the old man had a gift.

Calmed down by the familiar smell Cale breathed in deeply and sank into the chair, feeling defeated.

“I can't just leave her in the clutches of that woman. Who knows what she'll do to them? You said it yourself, she has better uses for Cephy. And what if she knows the prophecy, Arlo? She could kill Rachael on the spot and feel justified! What is to become of this place then? We'll have no chance without her!”

Cale saw the old man's heart sink behind his eyes. It would be the end of their resistance if Aeron killed Rachael. They also knew that Aeron didn't need to feel justified to kill someone. Killing was a sport for most Mist Women, a way of passing the time. She wouldn't need some prophecy as an excuse.

He had put a lot of effort into finding Rachael, and into making arrangements for her to be brought to the White City safely. He couldn't have come so far for nothing.

“There must be something I can do.” He refused to be defeated. They had lost too much for him to give up now.

Arlo scratched his head in thought, looking uncomfortable. “Well, my boy, there is one thing. But I can't guarantee your safety if you try it.” It couldn't end now, both men knew that. Cale had promised his Sparrows he would get her to safety, and he had meant it.

“I understand. If it gets her out safely I'll go.”