The Eden Series: The Complete Collection (4 page)

CHAPTER TWO

The night sky was pitch black—even the moons were hidden behind clouds. The air smelled like spring showers. She hoped it would hold off until she reached her destination. The city gates were locked at this time, but she had found the secret exit on the south side when she was only eight. At seventeen, she was well versed in all the secrets the Capital City had to offer. Keeping low to the ground, so the guards along the wall didn’t see her—not that they could in this lighting—Elisa kept her bow in hand in case any of the creatures that roamed these parts came to find her. A branch broke in the silence, causing her to crouch lower to the ground, searching the landscape for an assailant. Another crack behind her made her turn around, bow and arrow ready.

“Mercy!” she heard a voice say. Two figures walked up, the closer one with his hands held up in the air. “Don’t shoot, please!” The tone of his voice was slightly mocking, which annoyed her even more than their mere presence.

“Wolf,” she breathed in frustration. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I should ask you the same.” He smiled, his white teeth a bright contrast to the dark around them. As he came closer, she could see him more clearly. Even in the cold Wolf wore only his signature riding pants and no shirt. His bronze skin and fit upper body looked as comfortable in this weather as they would in the heat of the middle of summer. His long brown hair hung down to his shoulders, the thin leather headband holding it in place. She couldn’t see the pale green of his eyes, but she could feel their heat on her face.

Wolf was the latest from the Riders sent over by the Chief in the west. Every year they would send them their best Rider to join the High King’s army. Wolf was a natural athlete, as comfortable on his horse as he was on his own two feet. Elisa’s father had already informed her of their planned marriage, which was normal for the daughter of the Captain. She was their best archer, so she was obligated to take on a worthy husband such as him. Although he seemed to take to her somewhat in the beginning—as much as he did with most of the girls in the Capital, she thought—she always found herself mildly irritated with him and he with her, thus making their encounters few and far between. She was only seventeen that year, and most women were not duty-bound to marry until their nineteenth birthday. That gave her two years to either convince Wolf to take another woman or convince her father to let her out of their betrothal.

“How did you get out of the city?” she asked.

“The same way you did,” he replied casually. She hated being followed.

“Good evening, Elisa,” she heard the second voice. It was Logan, Wolf’s shadow. The two were inseparable, so she wasn’t surprised to see him there. He wasn’t nearly as tall and athletic as Wolf—or as good-looking, she admitted—but there was something pleasant about Logan. He wore his black hair tied back and had thick, dark eyebrows that were always lowered over his pale grey eyes.

Nodding her head in acknowledgement, she turned back to face Wolf. “You need to go back,” she instructed him.

“All right, I will,” he said, putting his hands lazily in his pockets. “Just as soon as you tell me where you’re going.”

“What makes you think you have a right to know where I’m going?” she spat, feeling her anger starting to rise. She still hadn’t taken the arrow out of the bow and tossed around the idea of shooting him in the shoulder just to give her some distance. It was an impossible idea, of course. She would probably be whipped if she purposely shot a King’s man.

He laughed at her hostility. “Elisa, stop being so defensive. I just want to make sure you’re not doing anything too dangerous all on your own.” This pissed her off even more. She didn’t need anyone with her to be safe; she was just as good a warrior as any of the boys were. “Maybe Logan and I could help you with your little expedition.”

“I don’t need your help,” she replied hotly. “I’m on a mission from the High Priest, and I’m sworn to secrecy.”

She watched as the two boys looked at each other in surprise. “The High Priest?” Wolf asked, not looking at her, but looking still at Logan. “Must be important—what do you think, Logan?”

“I think it’s pretty risky of him to send her out during the night, with all the sightings of beasts running through these woods,” Logan replied in his deep monotone voice.

“I agree.” He nodded his head. “I heard there were even some of those tall ones lurking about, so why risk
her?”
He nodded in Elisa’s direction.

Feeling her anger peak, she hit Wolf in the back, making him turn around as quick as lightning, grabbing her hand in mid-air as it approached him a second time. Both looked at each other in fury. “Everyone knows those taller beasts don’t hunt at night; their eyes aren’t good enough in this lighting. As you can see, both moons are hidden. We picked this night carefully. As for the other beasts, I can handle the oversized hogs by myself with my eyes closed. They also don’t see well in this light, whereas I can see perfectly, and shoot them just as well as if it were the middle of the day.” She was breathing hard, cursing herself inwardly for letting them get under her skin the way they always did. Being a girl always made the need to prove herself that much more important. Most people wrote her off as being weaker than the rest of the warriors, but she wasn’t: she was just as deadly as they were, even if she was tiny.

“Fine,” he finally said, releasing her hand. “Good luck then.” She brushed away a lock of her hair, pinning it behind her ear. She also wore a headband like Wolf’s, finding it kept her long golden hair out of her eyes when she was targeting an animal. Both boys turned around and began walking back toward the city walls. She watched their retreating figures for a while, ensuring that they wouldn’t turn around again and follow her. Of course, she didn’t trust them as far as she could throw them, so when she finally did continue toward the forest, she would occasionally stop to make sure they hadn’t decided to pester her further.

She could hear an owl not far away, and the distant sound of a river rushing by. She knew she was close. The witch lived in a hut not far beyond that river; it wouldn’t be long now. Staying low to the ground, Elisa kept her senses on alert for any unwelcome guests. The forest used to be free of any real danger, but ever since the passing of the High King ten years ago, everything had changed. The new High King, King Jameson, was well loved and respected. The news of his crowning had shocked all of Eden, the majority of people having thought the younger prince would take over. What surprised them more was the betrayal of that same brother.

After the bells of passing rang through the Capital, everyone began mourning the loss of the most beloved King in centuries. Jameson had come out on the people’s balcony and announced his father’s passing and his rise to High King. He then announced the banishment of the younger Prince Callum, for reason of treason to the crown. The younger prince had ridden off that same night with none other than Brutus the Red from the north. Some said there had been a third rider, but at the time no one knew who. Now it was well known that it had been the feared sorcerer from the east. The three lived in the mountains, sending down their terror little by little. It was a constant threat to the High King and everyone else who lived in Eden. Callum had sworn revenge on his brother and on all those who followed him. Now their lands were filled with the beasts and monsters that they created up in their mountains. Creatures so terrifying, they could be explained only by the sorcerer’s magic.

Some said the King and his close advisers suspected that Callum had brought the others here that night on purpose, under the belief that he would have been crowned. There was a lot of speculation on what would have happened had Callum been crowned, but nothing could be confirmed. His alliance with them now was a problem, and the King was building his army stronger than ever to fight whatever his little brother brought their way.

What many didn’t know, although Elisa did due to her father’s close friendship with the King, was that Jameson believed their father’s death was murder. His health had been strong before that night, and the coincidence that those two men had been in the Capital on the same night the High King happened to fall deathly ill was something of a concern. The High Priest and Jameson wondered if poison had been involved, but no medical examiners were allowed to touch the body of a High King after his passing, so no one would ever know. It was this mystery that truly fuelled the new King’s hatred toward his brother and his allies and would help him to eventually defeat them. Hopefully.

The problem remained, however, that the north’s army was just too big. There already had been raids on small villages that sat close to the mountains, and many had already died. Not only were their men significantly more cruel and violent in their attacks, but the beasts that had been conjured up by the evil sorcerer Aziz were something the King’s men couldn’t overcome. Their weapons were not strong enough to penetrate some of their skins. What they needed was a wild card of their own, and that was exactly what Elisa was out there to do tonight.

Early in the afternoon she had been practicing her targets by herself, when her father appeared suddenly.

“Elisa, the High Priest has asked for your attendance,” he said in a thoughtful voice.

She looked over in surprise, not understanding the look on his face. “Is there something wrong?” she asked.

He shook his head slowly, and told her to pack up her things and go. The High Priest was usually in his chambers in the domed sanctuary at the far north side of the city. The Capital was laid out like a maze, making it harder for intruders to manoeuvre through the streets, if they were ever attacked. In the direct middle of the city was the palace, which was surrounded by an inner wall, similar to the outer wall that surrounded the whole city. The central square sat in front of the palace, where most of the city’s events took place. There they would hold the spring festival, which was scheduled for the next full moon. Elisa was admittedly excited about the festival, finding pleasure in the madness that took place on nights like that. Everyone let loose, and the constant fear of a war that lingered in everyone’s mind would for one night be forgotten.

Off the main square was an array of streets that intertwined into a confusion of twists and turns. Elisa had lived there her whole life, however, so she had never gotten lost. Behind the palace sat the city’s sanctuary. It was a tall white building, with a large dome that filled the sky. Every other building in the city was made of a grey stone, the roofs all brown, but the sanctuary was white, the dome a bright blue in the sky. In her opinion, it was even nicer than the palace itself.

One of the younger priests waited by the door, a small dagger in his hand for extracting the blood sacrifice. This was one of the reasons why Elisa didn’t pay too many visits to this place. Not that she wasn’t a spiritual person—she put her trust in both the God and his Goddess—but being cut every time one wanted to enter made her feel queasy. She held out her arm, and the priest made a small cut on the back, and held it above the bowl until a drop fell to mix with the others that rested in there. She didn’t turn away, although she wanted to. She couldn’t show her weakness in front of the small man. Everyone in the city knew her, and knew who her father was. She was well known to be a worthy archer, even at the young age of seventeen. Unfortunately, she was also known to the younger men as a beautiful, sought-after mate, so most men were kind to her. The arrival of Wolf not too long ago had put some of them at odds, but most seemed to pursue her anyway.

“I’m here to see the High Priest,” she said in a clear voice.

The man nodded his head. “He is waiting for you.” He led the way through the small hallways to the large wooden door that she was familiar with. After knocking lightly three times, she heard the High Priest beckon for her to enter, and she thanked the man for his help. The cut on her arm still bled, so she held a small handkerchief on it tightly.

“Good afternoon,” she said, bowing toward the High Priest. Alistair was almost sixty now, but was still a tall and regal man. He had been the best friend of the late High King, and now continued to support Jameson as loyally as he had his father. His hair was completely white, and a long beard reached down almost to the middle of his chest. He wore the robes of the priesthood, the dark blue bringing out the deep blue of his eyes. His nose was long and crooked, a result of an accident from his time in the army as a youth. Most men who became priests did so because they weren’t cut out for the King’s army. Although that could not be said of the High Priest—he was as great a warrior as he was a spiritual leader—he insisted the church life had been better suited for him than one of fighting. Elisa’s father had a close relationship with him as well, so he had always been like another father to her.

“Come sit down, my dear,” he said, gesturing to a chair. “I have made tea and set up my chessboard. Let us have a quick game.”

During her first year of training, she would come here on a daily basis to play chess with Alistair. Back in the days when she was still too young for the blood offerings, she could come and go as she pleased. He told her that chess was a good mind exercise, which would help her in her training. It would teach her to think strategically, and always plan her moves ahead of time, while still anticipating and watching those of her opponent. He was right, of course.

Walking over to the small table that sat by the window, she settled down for a long stay. Their games would normally go a long time. His chamber was a large room, the walls a warm beige stone. A large fireplace covered the west wall, which was always filled with a comforting flame. The bed sat against the opposite wall, with two chairs at the end, facing the hearth. Past his bed was the large window, which looked out into the sanctuary’s gardens. A small chess table sat there, made of glass, with the pieces all carved from green marble. The set had been handcrafted by the Sand People in the deserts, a gift to the High Priest.