Realm Leaper, page 36
Winged enemy soldiers stopped attacking civilians and rose to the sky; those bound to the ground ran forward, lining up below the King and Queen. Symon roared once more, and they all turned to face Symon and Aryael. Aryael lifted one hand in front of her, and the enemies began to glow. Radiant, golden light filled the soldiers, streaming from their eyes and their mouths. Within seconds, the entirety of the invading army began to disintegrate, flaking away as they were incinerated from the inside out. Ashes rained throughout the city, and Gavin reached out with his wind, blowing the ash back across the sea.
Panic still flooded the streets as fires were put out, people called for healers, and loved ones searched for those misplaced in the initial chaos of seeking shelter.
Symon shifted with a flash of light. “Abbadon! Apyllon! Show yourselves,” he commanded. Moments rolled by, all of them on the rooftop looking out against the sky. Suddenly, a shimmering outline made an appearance, and slowly, a great winged male began to form above them.
“Symon, Symon, Symon,” the male called with a cold, elegant voice, as harsh and grating as a blade against bone. His wings were vast, and rather than feathers, were covered with scales, booming with each stroke that kept him aloft. The male was pale, with long, jet-black hair. Unlike the other soldiers, these wings were real. “You always ruin the fun.”
“Apyllon,” Aryael hissed.
“Yes, yes. My brother couldn’t be bothered with this escapade. We’ve had a rather interesting guest lately. No doubt your little spies have told you.” Apyllon smiled broadly, assessing the group gathered on the roof.
“What is the meaning of this?” Symon demanded. “Do you really wish to start this war again? To see the rest of Panchaia rise up to slaughter you and your people—again?” Symon grinned as his words found his mark, and Apyllon grimaced.
“Your people will regret the day my father died; we will have our vengeance. One day. But for now, all we want is the girl,” Apyllon finished his explanation with a grin and gestured at Sage. “Give us the girl, and you will be able to rest easy, for now,” Apyllon’s hissing voice slithered across the city, echoing through the streets.
Sounds of panic continued to echo up through the rooftops. No one made a move, then suddenly, Apyllon dove toward them. Gavin lurched forward at the same time as Aryael, and a blast of flame rocketed toward the Dark Born male. A shield of dark purple rippled in front of Apyllon as he reeled back, pushed by the impact of the fireball.
He hissed, and Symon growled upward, “Leave now Apyllon, or I will unleash the full force of my powers on you. You are alone, without your precious brother to protect you.”
Apyllon grimaced, then began his ascent. “You will regret this King Symon.” Apyllon somehow made the title, King, sound like an insult. “We will be back, and you will not like what we have in store for you,” his hissing voice called out. Moments later, he was gone, vanishing with a ripple of dark purple power.
A rumble echoed across the city, and stones trembled along the streets. Screams filled the city as people prepared for a second wave of terror. The tremor stopped, and Sage knew that Apyllon had left at last. “I want you in my war room in five minutes or less,” Aryael commanded, turning to look at Gavin. “All of you. Symon, call the others.” A shimmer outlined the King and Queen, and they were gone, having cast to the palace.
Sage breathed deeply. Hyacinth was gone. She breathed and breathed, but the air didn’t seem to reach her lungs. The screams of the people on the ground echoed the sorrow that quaked through her.
Her knees trembled, and she sank to the flat rooftop patio they stood on. She hadn’t recognized it earlier, but they stood on the top of the tavern Gavin had brought her to all those weeks before. They were on that rooftop, in the part of the city Gavin loved so much. And the city burned and was reeling from the death that Apyllon had brought.
Death that Sage had brought just by being here.
Death that Sage had brought to Hyacinth, who was just beginning to find her joy again. She would never see her smile, never spend the night gossiping with her, or cook beside her. She was gone.
Gavin grabbed Sage’s shoulders and hauled her back to her feet. “Let’s go,” he said with the coldness of a hundred winters.
Dread pooled in her stomach as he wrapped his arms around her waist once more. He’d dropped the crossbow somewhere, but the sword was sheathed again across his back. She let him gather her into his arms, barely feeling the drop in her stomach as he launched into the sky once more. They flew in silence; Gavin barely breathed as they landed in front of the palace.
“Are you okay?” he whispered as he set her down gently.
Crunching footsteps sounded behind them as Zeke and Petra landed. Petra ran forward, cold fury exploding from her face.
“You!” she screamed at Sage. Petra reached her and struck her across the face. Gavin reached out and pushed Petra away as Sage stumbled back. “You!” Petra screamed once more, “You did this. You did this, and she’s dead now because of you.”
Gavin had pushed Petra back into Zeke’s arms who restrained Petra, even as she tried to advance on Sage once more.
The breath caught in Sage’s throat, “I know,” she whispered. “I know…”
“I hope you fucking rot in the pits of hell for this,” Petra roared as Zeke ushered her through the front doors of the palace.
Meliza ran through the doors, seeking the disturbance. “Get her out of here,” she commanded as she took in the scene below her.
“You think?” Zeke replied sarcastically, pushing Petra through the doors with a final and mighty heave. Sage could hear Petra wailing, Zeke’s soft soothing as they made their way through the entranceway.
Meliza stared at Gavin and Sage. A deep sigh escaped her. Blood coated her armor, her hair was wild, escaping from an untidy braid. The commander looked exhausted as she said, “Sage, Gavin…take a few moments, but we need to gather soon. Aryael and Symon are already drawing up plans.” Then she turned and strode back into the palace.
You did this. You did this…the words rang through Sage’s head. Cold iron filled her stomach as she accepted the truth. It was her fault; her fault Hyacinth was dead, her fault Ian was dead, her fault Veritasailles had been assaulted.
It was her fault.
Gavin turned to Sage, “Don’t listen to Petra.” He said coldly. “Look at me. Look, at me,” he demanded Sage. Sage took a shaky breath and forced herself to meet his stare. His eyes were cold, almost vacant looking, but he grabbed her shoulders and brought his face close to hers. “This is not your fault,” he lied; Sage knew it was a lie. How could it not be her fault? “This is not your fault,” he repeated. “We will protect you, Sage. You don’t have to fight this alone. We will do it together, okay?” She nodded.
But no.
They couldn’t do it together. She couldn’t risk it. She had to go, had to get out. She couldn’t bear the burden of knowing that more people, more innocents would die because she brought danger to their city. “You go on,” she whispered, tears rimming her eyes. Gavin looked at her, concern washing over his face. “It’s fine…I just…need a moment.” She felt her gaze sliding to the side.
“You sure?” Gavin asked.
Sage nodded, “Yeah. You go. I just…I need to pull myself together.” Gavin pulled her forward, placing a sweet kiss to her forehead. She grimaced. She didn’t deserve that.
Gavin turned, then paused, “I’ll send Acantha back for you, so you can find the war room.” Then he left.
Sage waited until she could see him pass the windows next to the entrance, then slowly began backing away. She made it to the gates, then broke into a run. She ran, and ran, and ran. Past buildings still smoldering. Past healers leaning over injured soldiers, groans filling the air. Past mothers calling out for their young.
She made it all the way to the bridge crossing the Philias River. She would run to Mystaira, board a ship, and sail to Maracadia. She would make her way to Meropoli and figure out what to do then. She crossed the bridge, remembering the old road Gavin had told her would lead her to Mystaira. Sage paused, tears flooding her eyes. With a deep breath, Sage whipped her arms, gathering the water to her. As she stepped, spun, and circled her arms, a great fog rolled across the city, moving inland from the sea and the mighty river she stood over. She needed cover, she needed distraction. She needed something to hide the fact that she was leaving. The last thing she needed was one of them following her. She glared upward, at the now shadowed sun. With a final breath, she turned to run…
And ran smack into a hard body.
Strong arms wrapped around her, and with a snap, she vanished from Veritasailles.
✧✦✧
Gavin replayed that look on Sage’s face, as Symon and Aryael cast from the rooftop. The look of panic, fear, dread, rage, and horror that overtook soldiers after a battle. The look of someone who’d lost everything; the look of a soul shattered. He’d seen Hyacinth lying on the steps. He’d seen the nightmares unleashed by Petra as she destroyed the soldiers responsible for that death. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t satisfying seeing the males rip themselves apart.
Fuck. Sage was teetering on a mental breakdown, he knew it.
Petra would be no fucking use to them like this, and the last thing they needed was Sage losing it now. He needed to get her inside, needed to get her to Mystaira, and needed to figure out what the fuck was going on. He would send Acantha out to get her as soon as he reached the war room. He understood her need for a few quiet moments. The power she’d unleashed out in the city had been impressive. And she barely seemed strained from it, but the aftershock of battle always claimed its prize. He knew she would need someone there when it came.
As Gavin walked through the palace, white-hot rage flowed through his body. He could pummel Petra for that. How could she blame Sage for this? The girl had been running for her life since she was fifteen. She had been evading powerful forces for nearly ten years; what else did Petra expect of her?
He must have been stomping as he made his way to Aryael’s war room because the Queen intercepted him, once again. “Where’s the girl?” she demanded. There was no friendliness in the tone; the killing calm of a warrior rang from the Queen.
“She’s gathering herself, taking a moment. She’s pretty shaken up,” Gavin reported. “I’m sending Acantha to go get her.”
The Queen nodded.
“How the fuck did this happen?” Gavin asked. The Queen cocked her head to the door, and they both walked inside, the Queen going straight to Acantha. The spy, daggers still in hand, strode out the door to check on Sage and bring her to the war room.
“Those soldiers were captives from Nysa,” shouted Suda across the round table. He pointed a finger at Symon, then whirled to glare at Aryael. “You. You incinerated your own people,” he bit out.
“Suda. Calm down,” commanded Symon. A predator’s growl laced the words, and Suda closed his mouth as if forcing words back down.
“Suda. You know as well as I what happens to the people possessed by the Dark Born. We’ve been witness to the madness that follows; there was nothing left to do,” Aryael replied, approaching her map-strewn table.
“Killing them was a favor,” Meliza finished.
The females looked at each other, agreement passing between them.
“Apyllon brought that legion to our shores for one purpose. He’s sending a message. The Dark Born are going to try and finish what their father started,” Symon declared.
“I suggest pulling our forces in now, taking the offensive, and heading off Speridisia’s forces before they get a chance to strike,” Zeke interjected.
Petra stood beside him, a vacant look on her face. Gavin forced himself to tear his gaze from the female, and looked back to Suda. “Did you know so many of your people had been captured?” Gavin asked.
“We’d had another regiment go missing. There had been rumors of great beasts roaming the bordering forests and had sent them in to deal with it. I hadn’t been informed of the incident prior to coming here; word reached me just yesterday. I was hoping to discuss it with you today,” he gestured to Aryael.
“They want the girl. Just give her to them, and we can be done with this,” Petra bit out.
“Fuck you,” Gavin replied.
Aryael slapped a hand across Gavin’s chest as he leaned forward. “Petra, you and I both know that if we hand over the girl, we ensure our own doom. That girl is the key to beating the Dark Born and the Rankor duplicate.” Aryael peered around the table, making eye contact with each person in the room as she spoke.
“We need to send the Lords and Ladies from the city immediately, check in on all of the territories. We can have them rally their forces while they’re gone,” Gavin replied.
A crash echoed through the room as the doors slammed open. Acantha reappeared at the doorway behind him.
“She’s gone.”
Ice ran down Gavin’s spine at Acantha’s words.
“What?!”Aryael snapped.
“A guard said he saw a female running through the gates. He said she looked like the Realm Leaper.”
Gavin, Aryael, Meliza, Zeke, and Symon all cast to the gravel-lined pathway that led to the palace. Gavin spun on his spot, looking for her.
“Find her,” Symon commanded. Meliza and Zeke launched into the air, Zeke in his harpy form which could fly impossibly fast.
A second later, Gavin had cast into Sage’s room; he used his wind power to summon the pack Sage had carried around so protectively, making sure the book made it in. He cast into his room to grab a bag he had packed weeks ago on a whim. Without really knowing why he had obtained a set of female sentry clothing that would likely fit Sage. He cast out into the open sky over the city. A flash and he’d shifted into winged form, soaring over the city.
He scanned the roads, looking for her with his hawk-sharp sight, but couldn’t see her among the smoke and panic that still flooded the streets. A mist was rolling in from the sea, and Gavin careened to watch. Surely Apyllon couldn’t be back already. The chaos of the scene flooded Gavin with dread when Symon’s voice boomed through his head. “The Phylias river,” he said, “Meliza says the mist started there.” A glance told Gavin she was flying back to the palace, away from the river. Gavin flew to the bridge, casting into the woods beyond it before whoever may be on the bridge could hear his approach.
Sage stood on the bridge, looking across the river, staring out at the mist she’d called in. Gavin stood in the shadows, watching her for a few moments before stealthily walking up behind her. A heartbreaking sigh wrenched free from Sage just before she turned to run. Gavin tightly grabbed hold of her as she ran into him and cast into the woods beyond.
✧✦✧
Symon had just received word from Zeke that the mist was receding. No word from Gavin had been received, but intuition said the young Lord had intercepted the girl. He was just finishing his brief with Meliza when Raphael appeared in front of both of them, stopping Meliza in her tracks.
“I thought you’d be out healing the injured,” Meliza said, stepping back in surprise.
“I was. I thought you’d like to know that the sentry regiments are already finishing up their search and rescue assignments,” Raphael replied with a tone of urgency.
“That’s good news. They’ve worked fast,” Meliza continued looking at Symon with a question.
“Symon. Meliza,” Raphael barked, forcing them both to focus on him, “there are sixteen unaccounted citizens. Witnesses say they saw some of the soldiers grabbing a few of the missing and then…disappearing.”
“Who were they?” Symon asked.
“Equal numbers of power wielders: wind walkers, water summoners, earth shifters, and flame wielders. I’m afraid Apyllon was not only here for Sage.” Raphael’s face was full of warning.
“We need to inform Aryael.” Symon turned, rushing up the steps of the palace. He could hear the clipped steps of Raph and Meliza behind him.
A decade of peace, gone in a heartbeat.
The Dark Born brothers had finally come to call, Symon thought as he prepared himself to bring the news to his wife.
32
✧✦✧
Sage’s feet hit dirt. Her knees shook with the impact, and she whirled within the grasp that held her tight. She shoved hard at the chest pushing against her, and gasped to find Gavin’s cold stare peering down at her. Behind him, the massive rolling foothills that bordered Veritasailles loomed in the distance. They’d left the city, and she had no idea where she’d ended up.
His face was a mask of coldness. She thought she detected a feeling of loathing rippling off him. Horror gripped her tight. She had to get away from him, from all of them so no one else got hurt because of her.
“Gavin— let me go. You have to let me go!” His hands gripped her arms, preventing her from escaping, from saving him from the pain that would ultimately come from being close to her.
“Where! Where would you go, Sage? You think after all that has happened you can run? Again?” He squeezed her arms like he might shake her, then, without warning he released her. She stumbled back, still reeling from the surprise of his grasp. “You think running, again, is going to fix this?” Gavin asked. He held his hands, clenched by his sides. His body vibrated with tension. “You think by leaving us to clean up the mess in Veritasailles that the Dark Born are just going to leave us alone? Wake up, Sage! You aren’t the only one who has faced death. You aren’t the only one that has to fight to keep what you love safe.”
The air felt too thin, her skin felt too tight. She just had to make him understand. “Gavin. If I hadn’t been there, Hyacinth would still be alive. Your city wouldn’t have been touched. Just let me get to Mystaira, leave me here, and I can board a ship and go to Meropoli. I’ll figure out what’s next when I get there. Just…leave me so I don’t get you hurt,” she begged. She looked him full in the face, every bit of pleading she could muster out in the open.
