Once they made a complete round of the field and did what they could to help, they headed back toward the library. Zachariah and Tiege stood with Derian, Melanthe, Harold and Alexius, consulting over an ethereal map of the plane generated by the Waresti commander. Sophia also spotted Verrell, Alys and Oria among the group and figured they must be strategizing. She wondered why Cleve wasn’t with them.
When Melanthe looked up and caught her gaze as they approached, Sophia knew.
“No,” she said, shaking her head as Melanthe met her and took her hands. “Not Cleve. Please tell me he’s okay.”
“I’m sorry, Sophia. Cleve has fallen,” Melanthe said, her eyes shining with tears. “Verrell had the bodies of our brethren brought into the forest so he could honor them with a brief tribute while we were in the library.”
When Sophia would have sunk to the ground, Quincy grabbed her and pulled her against him. She barely registered it. One thought overrode all others.
“It’s my fault,” she said, the words barely audible. “It’s all my fault.”
Quincy lifted her and carried her away from the others. “Don’t say that,” he argued. “None of this is your fault.”
“He was injured protecting me from Bertram and Tycho,” she said as they stopped and he once again set her on her feet. Tears came in a hot, painful flood. “If he hadn’t been injured—”
“No, Sophia.” Quincy’s voice was firm. He forced her to meet his gaze. “The only being at fault for what happened here today is Eirik. He’s the one who orchestrated all of this. Cleve wouldn’t have been forced to protect you if not for Eirik. Don’t ever lose sight of that.”
She wanted to argue, but his logic was irrefutable. Instead, she allowed him to pull her close, pressing her cheek to his chest as she cried.
Eventually, her emotions leveled out. Anger and determination met pain and loss. She would grieve, there was no denying that. But she wouldn’t let the sacrifices made by Cleve and the other fallen Mercesti and Waresti warriors go unaddressed.
Eirik and Metis would be brought to justice for what they had done, and she looked forward to being one of those who ensured that happened.
Tiege knew the news about their significant losses would impact Sophia, and wanted to help her if she needed it. Once he confirmed that Quincy was taking care of her, he returned his attention to Zachariah.
“The medallion appears to contain some kind of coded image,” Zachariah said, studying the map. “When archigos Ini-herit is done healing the last of our wounded, we can better determine what it is. I only got a quick glance at it.”
“Archigos Uriel is nearly here,” Harold said. “When he arrives, we can discuss strategy. We are gathering every available Waresti so that we can send out scouting patrols. They might get lucky and find Tate and Ariana before we do.”
Tiege saw that Zachariah had mixed feelings about this. He wanted Tate found, yes. But he wanted the pleasure of killing Eirik himself. It was a conflict Tiege well understood.
“We can assist ye,” Derian offered, looking at Zachariah. “There are many like us. We know how to reach them. Ye’ll find no better resources for information about things happenin’ on the mainland.”
“This is not your conflict,” Zachariah said, his gaze moving briefly to Melanthe. “You have already risked enough. There is no need to sacrifice more.”
“Eirik has your avowed, commander. Is that not right?”
Derian’s words made Zachariah flinch, though Tiege thought he was the only one who noticed the subtle reaction. Whether it was the reminder of his former Gloresti title or the mention of Tate, Tiege could only guess.
“Yes,” he answered stiffly.
“That serves as reason enough.”
Before Zachariah could argue further, their attention turned to the sky. Tiege spotted at least a hundred Waresti…and one pair of dark purple wings. When Clara Kate and Ini-herit joined them, Tiege shared a look with his cousin. They knew that, especially in light of his current mindset, Zachariah wasn’t likely to react well to the arrival of the Wymzesti elder. Tiege couldn’t imagine why Knorbis was pressing his luck by showing up right then.
Then he realized that Knorbis carried Malukali.
When the group landed, Tiege couldn’t tear his gaze from the Orculesti elder. She appeared to be in as bad of shape as Tate. Her face was almost unrecognizable. Bruises, some of them yellow with age, mottled her entire body. Deep wounds covered with fresh scabs lined the backs of her arms. Although her back wasn’t visible, Tiege suspected it was covered in similar lines. Whip marks.
Ini-herit hurried forward. Knorbis continued to hold his wife as the Corgloresti elder used his healing ability to help her. They all watched in silence until the silver light faded. When Ini-herit stepped back, Malukali was fully healed.
She touched the side of Knorbis’ face and held his gaze for a moment. He slowly lowered her to the ground. Then she took a few steps closer, her gaze on Zachariah.
“We don’t seek your forgiveness,” she said. “But we do seek your understanding.”
Tiege looked at Zachariah, figuring the Mercesti was equating Malukali’s condition with Tate’s and knowing he would have done the same thing as Knorbis if their positions had been reversed. Eventually, Zachariah looked from Malukali to Knorbis and gave a brief nod. It was all they would get from him right then.
“Thank you,” Malukali said, her dark green eyes glistening. “We will do everything we can to get Tate and Ariana back. And you’ll have the help of another friend, too.”
She glanced back at the forest. Tiege squinted as the sun faded to deep orange to try and see what friend she meant. The shadows appeared to move. Then he realized that he wasn’t looking at shadows at all.
He was looking at Nyx.
The kragen emerged from the forest, her formerly graceful stride hindered by a notable hitch. After a frozen moment, Zachariah pushed past Derian and ran into the field, meeting Nyx before she had moved ten feet. No one disturbed the reunion, knowing the Mercesti wouldn’t welcome it.
“How did she survive?” Tiege wondered. “Eirik seemed certain the poison he used would kill her.”
“It nearly did,” Knorbis said, his gaze on the kragen. “When you left me, I wandered for a bit as I waited for Uriel to bring Malukali so we could get her to Ini-herit. I found Nyx. She had been struck by a dart.” He rubbed his neck, likely remembering that he’d also been shot. “I wasn’t sure what form of poison Eirik used, but I carried an inoculation that I thought might work to reverse it.”
Sophia stiffened. “What?”
Flushing, the Wymzesti elder admitted, “I stole the altered antitoxin that you created before we left your homeland. I wanted to be prepared for any eventuality and I knew Zachariah would send Nyx after me when I…took Tate and Ariana.”
Everyone exchanged looks as the elder’s actions once again fell into a harsh light. Then Malukali reached over and took her husband’s hand.
“The enhanced antitoxin created using Sophia’s DNA worked to revive the creature,” Malukali said.
Blinking, Sophia shared a look with Quincy, who nodded. “The part of your DNA that allows you to shift into animal form must have bonded with Nyx’s. Since the formula you created worked on Nyx, I would guess that the poison used by Eirik was probably similar to her natural toxin.”
Tiege took a few steps away from the others as they discussed the scientific reasons behind the vaccine’s success. The sun vanished to little more than a sliver on the horizon as he focused on Zachariah, who rubbed his friend’s neck and spoke words he couldn’t hear. All around them, forms of the dead began dissolving, a reminder of the brutality of the afternoon.
But Tiege had to take the miraculous survival of the kragen as a positive sign. She was proof that even when things seemed at their bleakest, there was a glimmer of good things to come if one only looked for it. As the dark settled around them, he knew that the new day would dawn, and it would dawn with hope
and promise.
Epilogue
“Where have you brought us, Metis?” Eirik asked.
He scanned the dark room, not needing any light to make out even the smallest details. It appeared to be some kind of laboratory. He spotted a large work table and numerous scientific implements. A cot rested against one wall. Books lined shelves along every other.
“Somewhere we will not be found,” she said.
Hearing her speak with Deimos’ voice struck him as odd. She had explained that her base form was that of a female, but she could assume both genders. He dismissed the odd conflict as unimportant right then and continued his study of the space. In one corner of the room was a cage large enough for several Estilorians. He grabbed Ariana and hauled her to it, tossing her in. The Lekwuesti didn’t issue a sound of protest, a fact that disgusted him. She would serve her purpose and lead him to the final scroll piece, and then he would kill her.
When he turned after securing the cage, he saw Metis hovering over the Kynzesti. Her red eyes glowed.
“You will not succumb to that creature’s blood lust,” he ordered, striding back across the room. “You will draw upon the Scultresti abilities you mentioned and heal this Kynzesti’s life-threatening injuries.”
Metis licked her lips. “I do not think that I can restrain myself. She smells delicious.”
Grabbing her by the neck, he squeezed until she yelped and fought for release. Only when her eyes dimmed did he bother loosening the hold. “Do what I said,” he snapped.
She collapsed beside the Kynzesti and gasped for air. Her hands went to the dying female’s chest, where it was obvious the most severe injuries had occurred. Murky brown light flowed from Metis’ hands into the Kynzesti’s still form. She closed her eyes and concentrated, causing the light to strengthen.
A long while later, Eirik gazed down at the still-unconscious Kynzesti, taking note of the red pairing markings Metis had uncovered through her efforts. Apparently, Tate would have a few questions to answer once she awakened. For now, she would join her companion in the cage. Her injuries had been healed enough for her to survive and that was all that mattered.
He sat at the work table with Metis, studying the scroll piece. “It describes very specific individuals,” he observed. “How are we to know to whom it refers? Even once we find these individuals, how will we know how to imbue the scroll?”
“Perhaps the last portion of the scroll will make everything clearer.”
Eirik’s eyes gleamed. “It had better. One way or another, I will complete the scroll and use it to become the next elder. No one and nothing will stand in my way.”
Quincy found Sophia sitting on a large boulder at the edge of a glade within the forest. Moonlight filtered through the treetops to bathe her in a soft halo. Once again, he was struck by her remarkable beauty. He took a moment just to watch her.
Nearby, where the memorial had been held for the fallen, an abundance of orange and red flowers bloomed. A converted Scultresti created them as a way to honor the dead. Sophia twirled a red flower between her thumb and forefinger, seemingly mesmerized by the action. He hesitated to disturb her, wanting to give her this time to process everything.
“Do you suppose Cleve might one day be able to project himself here like my grandfather did?” she asked, jarring him.
Moving closer to her, he replied, “I believe anything is possible.”
“You really do, don’t you?” She caught his gaze and surprised him with a brief smile. “I can see why my grandfather asked you to accompany him on the most important mission of his existence.”
He couldn’t think of a thing to say, so when she got to her feet and walked up to him, he just stared at her.
“When it comes to an impossible task, who better to have along than someone whose mind and heart are open enough to accept any possibility?” She reached up to touch the side of his face, making his heart flip over in his chest. “He was so lucky to have you with him, Quincy. Just as I’m lucky to have you. I love you so much. I don’t know how I didn’t understand all of this sooner. I’ll kick myself about it for years to come.”
He started to reply, but she pulled him down for a kiss. Any words in his head vanished. His hands moved up to her silky hair, cradling her head and rubbing his thumbs along the sensitive skin of her jaw. When she parted her lips, he eagerly took the chance to explore her, indulging in her taste and essence.
The kiss lasted forever, yet not nearly long enough. Only when he knew he was losing his control did he break away from her. The ragged sounds of their breathing filled the clearing.
She leaned back after a moment to catch his gaze. “I feel guilty for enjoying that so much when Tate and Ariana are out there somewhere, suffering.”
“I know,” he said, feeling the same way.
“It’s because of these terrible circumstances, though, that I’ve finally come to realize how much I love you…and how incredibly important your love is to me. I don’t want another day to pass without you by my side.”
Her words were everything he had ever dreamed. Yet he discovered what she said next surpassed them.
“I want to avow myself to you, Quincy.”
The statement filled him with such joy that he nearly lost his composure. Grinning, he said, “Leave it to you to steal my opportunity to ask you first.”
She returned the smile, but her eyes were somber. “We’re facing so much right now. I’m sure the others will think we want to do this because of our current situation. But you and I know it’s because I finally understand my own heart. I’d like to see if archigos Sebastian will craft us rings so we can avow ourselves before the morning.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Frowning, she watched as he reached into his pocket. When he pulled out a pair of rings, her eyes went wide. Her reaction made him laugh, something that surprised him.
“It seems your parents knew our hearts better than we did,” he explained. “They had these rings made last year, knowing I would be staying at the homeland as we awaited the births of the new Kynzesti. When I told them that I loved you before I left, they gave these to me. We have their blessing…as long as we have a proper wedding when we get back home.”
With every word he spoke, her face brightened. Then she threw her arms around him with a combination between a gasp and a laugh.
“Come on,” she said, taking his hand. “Let’s end this day by giving everyone a reason to smile. We’ll face our next challenge in a few hours when we leave to find Tate and Ariana.”
“Yes…and most importantly, we’ll do it together.”
Coming soon........
Elder
Book Three of the Firstborn Trilogy
Turn the page for a preview of Elder,
from the mind of Raine Thomas.
Elder
“Let me get this straight. Your dad is Gabriel? As in, the Gabriel mentioned in the Bible?”
“Yep.”
“And he and I were once the equivalent of best friends?”
“Yep.”
“Holy crap.”
Clara Kate stifled a laugh as she watched Ini-herit process this news. His gray eyes were wider than she’d ever seen them. The only sound was of the rain pelting the roof of the large tree house located in the backyard of their guardian, Mrs. Clara Burke. Despite the fact that they were eighteen and the tree house was meant for younger kids, it was a place they visited whenever they wanted some time away from everything else. They’d even camped in it a few times.
Now, they sat against one wall with their legs sprawled in front of them and their hands joined. He studied her carefully for a moment. When she just quirked an eyebrow, he let out a long breath.
“Wow.”
Her lips curved upwards. “You believe me.”
He continued to look at her without responding. She knew his features as well as her own after these past few months spent with him on the human plane, but that didn’t make her less interested
in gazing at them. His aristocratic nose, long-lashed eyes and full lips would have made him what others called a “pretty boy” if not for the rough, honed edges of his cheekbones and jaw line. He wore his dark hair longer than Mrs. B would have liked, but he usually pulled it back into a ponytail out of deference to her. At the moment, he had it unbound and it brushed his shoulders in beautiful waves.
“I do believe you,” he said at last. “Though heaven knows why.”
“Well, you’re the Corgloresti elder. It’s a class founded on faith. Even though your Estilorian self has been suppressed while you re-learn human emotions, you retained your core characteristics.”
“So, when I call you Angel, it’s not so much a nickname as a fact.”
Shaking her head, she nudged him with her elbow. “I told you we’re Estilorians, not angels.”
“What if I want to be an angel?”
“Oh, you’re no angel,” she said. He grinned wickedly, making her heart work overtime. “Angels are just one of the mythical creatures humans created based on their memories of Estilorians. When we separated the planes a couple of thousand years ago, humans documented their experiences with us in a variety of ways. Art, literature, music…you name it. In essence, we became human myths and legends.”
“Being a legend doesn’t sound so bad.” He paused, looking thoughtful. Then he asked, “And I’m how old?”
“Oh…several thousand years.”
“Get out.”
“It’s true,” she said, laughing at his expression. “On the Estilorian plane, you’ll look about the same age you are now, though. Maybe a few years older. Estilorians don’t age, and many of the elders are the youngest in appearance.”