Descent

  The harpy had been sickening, but there was a kind of bone-deep terror on the boat now. An innate dread that seemed to hang in the air around these creatures, descending to suffocate everyone in fear.

  By now the sailors were all on deck, firing frantically into the fray of wings. Mia looked at Harry and saw that he was running headlong down the deck. She tried to see where he was headed and with horror realised that one of the monsters was diving straight for Jack. He hadn’t seen it and didn’t try to move.

  ‘Jack!’ Mia screamed, and his eyes snapped to where she hid. He was too slow. Harry threw himself into a mighty leap, crashing into Jack and taking him down to the ground. The Valkyrie pulled itself out of its dive, but its long talons sliced through the air and into Jack’s shoulder, taking a chunk of flesh with them.

  Jack screamed and clutched at the wound. Harry stood over him, guarding him with his body as he shot the creature straight through the head, killing it instantly. Mia watched as its body vanished into the air, leaving no corpse.

  On the other side of the ship the sailors had managed to shoot the remaining Valkyries, which disappeared into the sky. Mia was amazed that no one had been killed.

  She tried to stand, but found that her legs would not quite hold her. ‘Harry!’ she cried, her voice raspy.

  Harry looked up. ‘You okay?’ he called quickly. ‘Did any of them touch you?’

  ‘No, I’m fine. Is Jack?’

  Harry didn’t reply, but the fleeting look on his face gave Mia a sudden chill. Truly panicked now, she rushed over to where Jack was sprawled.

  His skin was chalk white, his eyes wide. Mia looked at the wound and breathed out in relief. It wasn’t very deep. ‘Just a flesh wound,’ she said lightly.

  ‘Just a flesh wound? It still bloody well hurts!’ Jack roared.

  Harry was staring at the gash on his friend’s shoulder unblinkingly.

  ‘I can’t believe we’ve been attacked twice!’ Jack exclaimed.

  ‘Hell,’ Mia breathed. ‘Does it always happen this often?’

  Harry nodded. ‘Especially out in the open. We’re so exposed out here.’ Harry clenched his fists. ‘They would have been drawn here by your sudden fear of the harpy.’

  Mia was awash with shame at how cowardly she’d been.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Harry said. ‘It’s my fault. I should have gotten you under the deck earlier.’

  ‘Harry, it’s not your fault,’ Mia said. ‘Jack’s fine. That’ll heal in no time!’

  ‘Evil bastards!’ Jack hissed angrily. ‘This hurts!’

  Harry just stared and suddenly Mia felt frightened again. ‘Harry,’ she whispered. ‘What’s wrong?’

  His eyes were haunted. ‘I didn’t tell you something because I didn’t want to frighten you,’ he murmured. Harry turned to Jack, meeting his eyes. ‘If a Valkyrie opens your skin, if its talons break your flesh, no matter how lightly, there is no protection of your dreams. Ever again. Not even Elvish magic can help you now.’

  Anna still felt weak and tired, but not even Luca could keep her in bed for this.

  She had donned one of her looser dresses, and had come down to the dock with Luca to wait for their arrival. Elixia couldn’t be found—the El~araih guarding her chamber door had said that the queen could not be disturbed under any circumstances.

  ‘It’s cold,’ Luca said, motioning for one of the servants to pass Anna another cloak.

  She pulled it tightly around her to shield against the wind. It was a grey, stormy day, not unlike the day she had awoken to find herself here in Paragor. If Jack and Mia were not quick, they would be caught in the rain.

  They would be emerging from the east, around the cove and into the bay. Anna trained her eyes to that spot on the horizon. She didn’t want to look at where Luca was standing a small distance away, dressed only in a shirt and vest, bearing the cold as though he enjoyed the pain, staring out at the sea with an expression darker than the sky. What was wrong with him? Wasn’t he happy they were here? Two nights ago, when she’d tried to talk to him about their friends arrival, he’d merely nodded absently. It was like he was just ... missing.

  ‘They’re late,’ Luca growled. Anna shot him a dark look that he didn’t see.

  Finally the ship emerged. She could make them out, standing on the deck. Anna jumped up and waved as furiously as she could. Three small figures waved back, growing larger as the ship approached.

  Then it was docked and they were racing down the plank onto the wharf to embrace Anna and Luca as fiercely as they could. Anna laughed with delight to see them exactly the way she remembered them. Secretly, she was relieved—she would hate to have missed two whole years of their lives.

  Anna clung to Mia and Jack, wiping the tears from her eyes and giving them both a watery smile. ‘I can’t even say how happy I am to see the two of you!’

  Mia laughed, reaching over to push Anna’s hair behind her ear.

  ‘We’re here now,’ Jack assured her, ‘You can relax and let us save the world instead. I knew you couldn’t do it without us.’

  They all laughed, breathless with excitement, and then the five of them piled into a large litter, talking non-stop the whole way back to the palace.

  ‘Wouldn’t you know it, they’ve been attacked twice already,’ Harry said with a sigh.

  ‘Oh no,’ Anna gasped. ‘You poor things! Trust them to pick on your ship! Did any of you get hurt?’ She tried to look for any evidence that their skin had been touched.

  ‘Not at all,’ Jack said quickly, cutting the others off. ‘It would take more than that to get us, An,’ he said, grinning as he put his arm around her.

  She glanced at Luca and noticed that he seemed to be acting normally. His smile was genuine, his happiness at their arrival real. This fact relieved Anna no end. She’d had a horrible feeling that he wouldn’t care, and she didn’t know what she would have done then. He was sitting next to Mia, holding her hand, smiling as Jack related Harry’s bravery in rescuing them from the attack on the ship. Anna didn’t doubt it at all—Harry had really found his place as an archer.

  That night they ate and laughed and reminisced. It was one of the best nights of Anna’s life. There was just one hole, an absence none of them could stop thinking about. How perfect it would have been if they could just call Jane out of the sky and have her here with them.

  Chapter 10

  ‘Well, this is Torr. This is my home.’

  Bayard peered down at the town below him in the valley. The town was small, but quite lovely. After a whole night of riding in fear, the sun was finally rising and the warmth of it was comforting. Ria’s vineyard was so large he could see it from where he stood. Ice Wine. Here he was, with the mistress of the only Ice Wine vineyard in the whole of Paragor.

  ‘Your town is...’ he began.

  ‘Small?’

  ‘Charming,’ he said firmly. ‘Let’s go—you can show me your house.’ They cantered their horses into the town, ignoring the curious eyes that followed them through the village. Like the rest of Torr, Ria’s house was small but lavish.

  ‘There are 162 rows of grapes, each 60 metres long. I have thirty workers, and they split into teams of five. It’s quick and efficient, and should only take a month or so to harvest the grapes each year. Then a select team and I produce the wine, and we sell it throughout Paragor. The vineyard’s prosperity waned a little with my father’s age, but now it’s bringing in a substantial amount of coin again.’ Her voice was stiff and formal as she spoke, as if he were just another merchant in need of a tour.

  ‘It must have been hard getting it into shape.’

  She shrugged. ‘It was my only living.’

  Bayard didn’t bother asking why she no longer sang for money. Ria was reticent at best, as he was coming to realise.

  She kept explaining things in a lifeless monotone, and Bayard tried to pay attention, but he found his mind wandering to problems in his platoon. His knights would worry if he didn’t return tod
ay, as would Vezzet. But for some strange reason, he didn’t like the thought of leaving so soon. Plus he was horrendously tired.

  Once at her house, Ria showed him to a bed and he sank into it gratefully, sleep overtaking him instantly. It was dark once more when he woke and emerged sleepily into the kitchen. Ria was sitting at a wide, wooden table, drinking something from a mug. As soon as Bayard sat, a servant handed him a similar mug and he drank it gratefully, realising that it was spiced Ice Wine. A moment later a bowl of warm vegetable stew was placed in front of him, and he set to it ravenously.

  ‘How did you sleep?’ Ria asked.

  ‘Well, thank you. Too well perhaps—what time is it?’

  ‘It’s nearly midnight.’

  ‘What? Gods, I slept like the dead!’

  She nodded, reading the scroll in front of her distractedly. ‘You will have to stay another night—you can’t ride home now.’

  ‘I’m sorry for the imposition,’ he said quickly, but she waved it away. He found he couldn’t drag his eyes away from Ria. She wasn’t truly beautiful; it was her voice that held him. Every word was spoken with a deep, soft musicality that was bewitching.

  They stayed up talking that night, as neither of them were particularly tired after their long rest. He learnt as much about her life as he could coax out of her, and found himself sharing bits of his own past. By morning Bayard went back to his room to lie down, just to rest his eyes, with every intention of rising by midday to be on his way. Hours later, he found himself waking once more to sunset. Sheepishly he apologised, aware of how she seemed to be relaxing more with every moment she spent with him.

  The next morning, after having spent the night in talk once more, Ria said to him, ‘I have enjoyed your stay more than I expected.’

  He couldn’t help but laugh. ‘That’s good, I suppose. I must confess, I knew I’d enjoy your company from the moment I met you.’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘Is that what this was about—?’

  ‘Of course not. I remain here only because of my ridiculous sleeping habits. I promise.’

  She relaxed again. ‘All right. Well I’m tired, so I’m going to get a few hours sleep and then head back to the vineyard. Excuse me.’

  Bayard watched her move towards her room, a sudden panic clutching him. Something propelled him out of his chair to take her hand and pull her towards him. She stiffened a moment as he kissed her roughly. As if dazed, Bayard stood back, dropping her hand.

  ‘Forgive me,’ he muttered, his voice raw. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’

  She was staring at him. Slowly her fingers moved up to brush her lips where his had touched them.

  Shaking his head, appalled at himself, Bayard said, ‘Thank you for your hospitality. I will be gone by the time you wake up. I’m truly sorry, my lady.’ He turned to leave but paused as her voice reached him.

  ‘Wait.’

  Slowly he turned around to look at her again.

  ‘I ... I would prefer it if you were not gone by the time I wake. I ... I will forgive you, perhaps, if you try it again—properly this time.’

  Bayard stared at her, surprised into silence. Then, as if moving outside his own will, the captain stepped forwards and kissed her again, softly this time.

  ‘There’s something bothering you,’ her son told her.

  Satine looked away from him. ‘I’m fine.’

  Altor shrugged and lost interest. ‘I’m going out then, if you won’t tell me.’

  She watched him stand from the breakfast table. ‘Wait, Altor. Where are you going?’

  He shrugged. ‘Anywhere but here.’

  Satine struggled not to show her hurt. ‘Why?’

  ‘This palace is like a prison.’

  ‘You used to love it here,’ she said sadly.

  He shrugged again. ‘What’s made you so sentimental today?’

  Accolon was here, that was what.

  ‘Your grandmother wants to have you confined to the palace,’ she said.

  ‘Oh really? Can’t get enough of my roguish charm?’

  ‘She thinks you’re getting up to too much mischief.’

  ‘Hmm—Liessen actually has an opinion on something. I’m shocked.’

  Satine didn’t say anything.

  ‘Oh go on then—lock me up,’ he sighed and held out his hands for tying.

  ‘No really, Altor,’ she went on, ignoring him, ‘She’s right. It really is a bad example for the people.’

  That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. ‘A bad example for the people,’ he murmured, his eyes closed. ‘How dreadful.’

  ‘Not just that,’ she said quickly. ‘I worry about you. You seem so unhappy.’

  ‘If you truly are at all concerned with my happiness, then I wouldn’t advise locking me in the palace,’ he said harshly.

  Satine shook her head. ‘I’m not going to do that. It’s clear I have no sway over your decisions anymore so I hardly think it would work.’

  Suddenly his wall was up. When he spoke next, it was with the mockery he had perfected. ‘Fine, mother. You want me to settle down? Find a wife, have a child and all that?’

  ‘No! You’re only a child yourself!’

  ‘No, mother,’ he said slowly, a strange grimace on his lips. ‘I’m not. Can’t you see?’

  She stared at him, wishing she could take him in her arms like she used to. It wasn’t fair. He should be a child—not this man who was constantly distancing himself from her!

  ‘You can be, if you want to,’ she told him. ‘You can be whatever you want. You don’t have to let this ruin everything.’

  ‘Let this ruin everything?’ he repeated. ‘I think it’s funny you speak of choice and power, when such things do not exist for me.’

  Satine didn’t know what to say. ‘I’m trying to find a way to stop it, you know that.’

  He held up his hands. ‘I wouldn’t bother, mother. There are better ways for a queen to be spending her time than on an impossible mission.’ He shrugged, throwing her a flippant smile. ‘It’s probably for the best; this way I need not find a wife, nor have children. I think I would only break such things anyway.’

  Then, winking at his mother, Altor donned his black cloak and walked through the palace to the outside gates, unaware of how his mother’s heart was breaking. As Altor wound his way through the streets of Burmia, he considered the conversation as emotionlessly as he could. What he’d said was true. It was a good thing that he couldn’t be expected to marry. He could think of nothing he would hate more. And children ... the prospect sent shivers down his spine. Any child of his would no doubt grow up to be emotionally crippled with him as a father.

  This whole situation with Accolon was going to cause a problem for him. Satine would overreact, just as she always did, and Altor would no doubt be sent off on some ridiculous envoy mission to appease the doddering old king in Sitadel. What good he could actually do was nil, but the rules of the treaty required aid to be given, and as the only prince, it was up to Altor.

  He clenched his teeth against a wave of seething rage. He didn’t want a part in any of it. He just wanted to be left alone. The fury was suddenly too much, and he slammed his fist into a wall, revelling in the pain. It overtook all other thoughts and set him free.

  He looked at his bleeding knuckles and then thrust his hand into his pocket.

  Altor pushed the anger down to where it simmered, pulling his mask back into place.

  Maybe travel would break the monotony of his life here. Maybe it would present new challenges, new conquests. Certainly the women in Sitadel were said to be some of the world’s finest. Fine then. Whatever. He would do as he was told. None of it mattered to him in the end.

  ‘Don’t say a word, Fern!’ Elixia hissed urgently. Fern had frozen to the spot as Jane came into view. His breathing was ragged. ‘She isn’t real. Only another trick of Adar’s. He uses your greatest desire as a temptation for you— a trick to make you turn around. Just get past her Fern, and you wi
ll live again.’

  ‘Fern?’ Jane called, and her voice was the lovely melodious thing Elixia remembered. ‘Why are you going this way? Are you trying to leave me?’

  Fern shook his head desperately.

  ‘Then turn around, my love. I am waiting in the underworld and I need you to rescue me,’ she whispered. Elixia felt dread descend upon her. She looked at the form of Jane—tall and slim, her long hair floating regally around her, and her brown eyes sparkling brilliantly in the darkness. Elixia knew that Adar had most probably enhanced Jane’s beauty—no matter how wonderous she appeared here she was just a human girl—but still, Elixia was entranced by the form of the dead girl, alive for a few moments in Fern’s desire.

  ‘Brother, listen to me!’ she urged. ‘She isn’t real. Only Adar in disguise. He wants your soul, and will use any foul trick to get it. You only have to ignore her and we will make it home.’

  ‘Don’t ignore me, Fern,’ Jane pleaded and came closer to him. He looked as though he might cry, torn with indecision. ‘I’m real— this is me. You know it is. I’ve been waiting for you for so long. Don’t you love me?’

  Fern gritted his teeth.

  Jane came closer, so close that they could touch her if they tried. ‘We don’t need her, Fern. She is only an obstacle. Our love can be whole, if only you will leave her,’ Jane whispered. ‘Forget her.’

  Fern stared for a moment, and then his face cleared and he walked forward, through Jane and into life. The mingled shrieks of fury from Jane and Adar followed them into the room.

  Elixia felt her soul drift gently back into her body, and a moment later she sat up, the coldness of the room startling against her skin. In the darkness she blinked, looking around for her brother. Elixia let out a ragged sigh. Then she noticed his eyes and almost cried in relief. They were wondrously cleared of their fire, and were again beautiful, grey and deep.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said as she embraced him. He looked exhausted and harrowed.

  ‘How did you walk away from Jane?’ Elixia asked carefully.

  Fern smiled. ‘When she told me to forget you, I knew it couldn’t be her, for the real Jane would never ask me to do such a thing. She knows how much I love you,’ he replied. ‘So where is she?’