The Queen of the Dawn, page 6
part #5 of Shadows and Crowns Series
“The horses aren’t going to hold out much longer,” she pointed out. “Nor are their riders.”
Zev rapped his knuckles together in frustration, letting little puffs of smoke and flame fly up from them. “Would be nice if we had some sort of magic that could create protection, or reveal better paths…or, you know, if we had the actual goddesses who control such things. Damn divine beings, coming and going as they please…”
Cas smiled meekly as he muttered on about their lack of divine company.
They both knew the real reason those goddesses hadn’t traveled with them—because it was getting harder for them to do so.
Just as the Healing Goddess had warned, the well of their power was not refilling as it once had. Even Nephele had admitted to feeling more drained than usual. They were also missing one of their court; the Star Goddess had not been seen in weeks. They didn’t suspect her of disloyalty, as in the case of the Time and Mountain deities—but she was clearly gone.
She had always been aloof, and now it seemed she had vacated the mortal realm entirely. And one less goddess meant one more disruption in the flow of the Sun Court’s power.
So the remaining goddesses were storing their power, waiting for the most opportune moments to strike against their enemies, knowing they might only have limited opportunities.
“We have a few human magic-users among us,” Cas said, trying to remain optimistic. “And Elander and I, too—we can all spare something, surely…enough to create a shield to give us a brief rest.”
“Too risky, isn’t it?”
“Since when have you been overly concerned with risk?” She knelt and picked up a fallen apple that appeared to be mostly intact.
“Since our potential failing now means the end of the world, rather than us just missing out on a payday?”
“Well, for what it’s worth,” she continued, polishing the apple with her coat sleeve, “I still don’t feel any limits on my magic. I still feel more powerful than ever.” It was so much power that it was making her feel somewhat restless, honestly—but she didn’t say this part out loud. She had grown beyond the anxiety surrounding her powers.
Or that’s what she needed everyone following her to believe, at least.
Zev didn’t look convinced about her plan, but Cas turned and started back to the horses before he could argue.
They returned to their company and briefed them on what they’d found. Cas went first to Laurent, who seemed even less enthusiastic than Zev about her plan to test the limits of their group’s collective magic. They debated for a moment. Nessa arrived to mediate, and Laurent soon after bowed out of the fight and went to speak with some of their soldiers, grumbling to himself as he went.
Cas watched him go, holding in a sigh. She gave the apple to Nessa, and then went searching for Elander.
It took several minutes, but she finally found him sitting alone on the side of a hill, hidden from most of their party, his horse tethered to a tree at the base of the sloping ground.
Odd that he isn’t storming through our ranks and shouting orders. He so loves shouting orders…
But he’d been somewhat odd for most of the past day—quieter than usual, even when she prodded and teased him. Concern ate a pit into her stomach, and she forgot about her camping and risky magic plans and picked her way down the steep hillside to him.
She slowed as she caught sight of the haunted look on his face.
He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, balancing a sword on upturned palms, studying the white stones in its hilt. He didn’t take his eyes off the weapon until she was standing right next to him.
She had seen that sword before, she realized. “Caden’s, wasn’t it?”
He nodded. “Surprised I found it among the wreckage at the palace. I wasn’t going to carry it with me, but it’s elven made—so I thought it would be too useful against magic to leave behind. I was thinking of what the Healing Goddess said, about our need to ration our own magic. So I’ve been trying to get used to the feel of this blade whenever I have a spare moment like this, so that I can wield it instead.”
She settled down beside him. She doubted he’d kept it solely because of its usefulness, but she didn’t say so.
She picked a small purple flower, plucked its petals off one by one before holding her palm out and letting the rising wind carry them away. Quietly, she said, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“That we couldn’t save him. That I brought Nessa back—but I only have so much power, and it wasn’t enough to…” She trailed off as he shook his head at her, glancing her way—just for a moment—before he went back to studying the blade.
Cas drew her knees toward her chest and rested her head upon them. Images of the battlefield at Ciridan, of the palace crumbling and littered with fallen bodies, flickered mercilessly through her thoughts. So many people she hadn’t been able to save…
She buried her face into her knees and fought the urge to rock back and forth, to let her hands tap against her boots, to find some other motion that could carry her away from everything. She didn’t want to be carried away just then; she wanted to stay here in the quiet wreck of it all with him.
“You don’t need to apologize,” Elander said. “And that’s a dangerous line of thinking.”
The Healing Goddess had told her the same thing—because Cas had asked, of course. Had asked if there was some way her full, newly-embraced magic might undo the losses they’d suffered that night. If it could undo all the loss and pain that wrapped like a choking fist around her lifetimes.
The goddess had seemed uncharacteristically sympathetic as she’d shaken her head and told her no. Magic has limits. The evidence of that is around you, even if you’d like to ignore it.
“Queen or not, you are not responsible for saving everyone,” Elander said—which was, again, essentially what the goddess had told her.
Try to save them all, and you’ll end up saving no one.
Cas lifted her heavy head and watched Elander for a moment. The wind was picking up in earnest now, whipping her hair wildly about. She tucked a strand behind her ear and looked to the sword he held, and then back up to his face.
“You’re not responsible for that, either,” she told him.
He looked as though he wanted to argue, but ultimately couldn’t come up with anything to say, so he just gave her a small, grateful smile instead.
They were quiet for several moments, until Cas suddenly remembered why she had sought him out in the first place. She started to tell him of the signs of magic they’d spotted nearby—
An explosion in the distance interrupted her, causing them both to jump to their feet.
Cas took a few cautious steps toward the sound, squinting at the distant, gloomy sky, searching it for signs of smoke, streaks of magical energy…
She saw nothing.
“Whatever that was, it sounds like it’s directly on the path we’d planned to travel,” Elander muttered. “Good thing we stopped when we did and didn’t charge right into the middle of it.”
A moment later, Cas saw Laurent on horseback in the distance, leading a group of riders away from the rest of their party. Scouting out a safer route? Her stomach clenched as she lost sight of him against the grey horizon.
“I want to see what’s going on,” she said.
Elander nodded and started toward his horse, beckoning her to follow. He gave her a leg up, climbed up behind her, and then they set off in the same direction as Laurent and the others.
They rode for a half-mile, their pace cautious as they continued to study their surroundings. No more explosive sounds reached them, but there were other sounds to be concerned with. As they drew closer, Cas began to pick out individual notes—people shouting, horses frantically braying and snorting, and heavy, hurried footsteps.
They spotted a ridge lined with trees and rode toward it, using the cover of foliage to get closer and closer to the sounds. Stopping in the center of the narrow grove, tall pines standing like sentinels around them, Cas peered through branches and instantly caught a flash of movement—a woman in light armor scampered over the rocky terrain below them, casting wary looks over her shoulder as she went.
That armor, the emblem stitched in teal and silver across the leather breastplate…
A Sadiran soldier?
Cas followed the woman’s line of sight and spotted people following her. A strange parade of people—some were running toward that Sadiran woman without looking back, some were engaged in sword combat as they came, some sought bushes and other hiding places and crouched within them.
Her gaze snapped back to the Sadiran woman just as she veered wildly, barely avoiding an arrow, and nearly collided with a twisting grey tree. The woman limped for a few steps before finding her balance, and then spun around and withdrew a sword—just in time to meet another soldier who exploded from seemingly nowhere.
Cas saw the flash of steel as their blades met, but she didn’t see what happened to the woman beyond this, as her attention was yanked toward a trio of men running dangerously near to where she and Elander hid.
Elander’s arm slid protectively around her waist, drawing her closer to him. His horse shivered beneath them, stamping her foot and tossing her head. Cas ran a soothing hand along the mare’s neck, willing the creature to be still for just another moment.
Another soldier had caught up to the trio. The three men made quick work of killing him—though the pursuant did manage to strike one of the men’s arms, splattering the rocky ground with drops of violent red. The cry he bellowed made Elander’s horse stomp and snort more insistently.
Cas’s eyes were drawn to the bloodied sleeve of the soldier’s jacket, and she saw a patch that featured what appeared to be clouds swirling around a sword pointing upward.
“That’s the emblem of Sadira’s army, isn’t it?” The red darkening it made it difficult to see, but she was almost certain of what she saw.
Elander steadied the horse before he looked for himself. “Yes, it is.”
Cas frowned. Sadiran soldiers…their allies. She hoped.
They couldn’t just ignore whatever was happening to them, could they?
At first, it had appeared to be a relatively small skirmish—not worth mixing themselves up in, maybe. But a realization struck her as she continued to watch, noting the way the Sadiran soldiers didn’t stop running, even after they finished off their enemies. “They look like they’re trying to retreat, don’t they?”
Elander watched the scene below them for another moment.“But from where?”
He was already seeking the answer to his own question, even as he asked it, nudging his horse back into a quick trot. There was energy in the air—more magic than they had felt since leaving Ciridan. Cas didn’t have to ask to know what Elander was thinking.
A larger battle is looming nearby.
They followed the energy, moving in the direction those soldiers all seemed to have been running away from. The trees grew more sparse as they rode on, but a fine mist had started to fall, and fog was rolling in thick waves, providing further cover. Still, they eventually reached an open stretch where that cover was not enough to conceal them; it would have been dangerous—foolish—to go farther.
But they didn’t need to go any farther.
Her back was pressed tightly to Elander’s chest, so she felt his heartbeat speed up; the sharp intake of his breath; the rumble of his magic coming to life as he wrapped his arm tightly around her once more. It was difficult to keep her own magic from rising, from seeking and folding into the protective waves of his.
They couldn’t let that magic rage indiscriminately. They had to be careful. Strategic. That was what they had decided. Cas had adamantly agreed to this.
But an exception might have to be made tonight.
Because below them, they had found the larger battle, and there were…
Bodies.
So many bodies.
Chapter 8
The bodies lined the banks of a slow-moving, winding river and dotted the rocky hills that stretched up from either side of that river, their numbers so great that Cas witnessed several people tripping over them.
Even at a distance, the scent of magic and metal and blood enveloped her and Elander, made heavier by the damp air. Her stomach rolled and the haunting images of the Ciridan battle tried again to resurface, but she forced them away and kept scanning the area.
She saw Sadiran banners and horses dressed in the kingdom’s colors of grey and turquoise. A shimmering barrier was taking shape around a group of soldiers close to the river—Sky magic. Which fully confirmed things; such magic was the specialty of Soryn and many of her followers. Even after so much magic had been purged from the Kethran Empire, they had continued to worship the goddess who granted that magic—another deity whom Cas had actually met.
That deity—Indre—was the sister of Nephele, and before leaving Ciridan, Cas had asked the Goddess of Storms to reach out on her behalf, to try and convince the Sky Goddess to help her win Soryn over.
It was likely a fool’s hope, and she knew it; the Sky Goddess had only begrudgingly helped them back in Ciridan. She hadn’t fled the mortal world yet, according to Nephele, but Cas was not counting on her being any more useful than the Star Goddess who had fully abandoned them.
Just another annoying, finicky divine being.
An arrow struck the ground uncomfortably close to where they stood, and Cas quickly forgot about the goddesses.
Elander’s hand squeezed her shoulder and nudged her attention toward something behind them—Laurent and his riders were in the distance, again disappearing into the bleak landscape.
Just before they turned to follow him, Cas caught sight of another banner fluttering in the wind—this one a bold crimson with a golden tree in its center, which belonged to the Kingdom of Ethswen. She had met the beautiful but terrifying princess of that kingdom months ago, during her brief stay in the elven realm of Moreth. They had not gotten along, to say the least—the meeting had ended with Cas accidentally electrocuting one of the princess’s guards.
And suddenly it wasn’t only that latest battle in Ciridan haunting her thoughts, but all the battles that seemed to build and swallow her up everywhere she went. All the dark and dead things she’d left in her wake, the number of fallen bodies so great she’d lost count at this point…
They caught up to Laurent, and Cas desperately tried to focus on his face rather than on all the dead faces in her memories.
“Seems we’ve stumbled across a battlefield,” Elander said.
“But one that’s avoidable, at least,” said Laurent. “We can sweep wide and go around it, but we need to be quick, before either side catches wind of us and decides to drag us into things.”
“The cover of rain and fog should help,” Elander said, glancing up at the swollen clouds.
“Casia?”
Cas started to meet Laurent’s gaze, to agree with the plan they were discussing. But then her eyes fell upon another Sadiran banner, this one damp and trampled so thoroughly into the muddy ground that she’d nearly overlooked it. “There’s a chance Soryn is here somewhere. Even if she isn’t, she’s almost certainly aware of this battle—or will be.”
Laurent hesitated. “What are you suggesting?”
“That if we want her to honor our alliance, we could first prove that we plan to do the same. It will be harder for her to decline an audience with me after I’ve helped lead her army to a victory.”
A pained cry sounded close to them—too close—and their circle of riders shifted nervously.
Laurent’s voice remained calm despite the escalating situation. “We don’t have the numbers to tip them toward a victory.”
“There are other ways to win battles, aside from numbers.” She tore her eyes from the banner and met his. “We can be strategic.”
They stared one another down for a moment, Cas’s gaze stubborn and unblinking, Laurent’s as steady and intimidating as always.
It was Elander who spoke next, ending their standoff. “We knew the road through Sadira was likely to be paved with battles,” he pointed out. “We won’t be able to outrun them all.”
“And you personally selected most of the ones traveling with us, knowing we would need to fight such battles, didn’t you?” Cas added.
After loosing a slow, strained breath, Laurent finally agreed.
“We’ll send someone back to rally the rest of our company,” Cas said, “while we find somewhere safer to make a plan for when they catch up to us.”
Elander volunteered to be the rallying messenger. As he galloped away, Cas hoisted herself into the saddle behind Laurent, and together with a handful of their soldiers they made their way to a distant stretch of the river, wading through shallow waters to reach a large grouping of rocks and trees on the other side. The rest of their riders went to further scout the battlefield and spy for more useful information.
Cas dismounted, found a large boulder, and settled down behind it. She lasted several minutes before her anxiety managed to wrap itself around her, slinking down her arm, tingling across her skin and making her fingers twitch and tap against the rocks around her.
The movements were quiet, more subtle than they’d once been—she had gotten better at hiding this side of herself when in the company of her soldiers—but Laurent’s hearing was better than most; he stood several feet away, but his head still tilted toward her tapping fingers, though he never looked directly at them.
“It shouldn’t take long for the rest of our group to catch up,” he assured her, his gaze fixing on something in the distance.
She stilled her hands and sank deeper into her hiding place, deeper into herself. She wasn’t there long before the clip-clopping of hooves drew her back upright, sending her creeping toward the sound to try and get a closer look.
Across the river, trotting along a path half-shrouded in trees and fog, was a small host of riders wearing cloaks that waved between shades of deep purple and navy. The air simmered with power—not the same energy that divine magic gave off, but a clear change in the atmosphere. It was difficult to tell from a distance, but Cas suspected these riders’ ears were tapered, that their eyes reflected an unnatural amount of the muted sunlight. She grew more certain of this when she noticed the flag attached to the saddle of the last rider, fluttering in the wind.
