Page 34 of A Traitor Sister (Remnants of the Fallen Kingdom #2)

34

MARLAK

I use my water magic to reinforce the ice keeping the bird monster in place, but I also want to smack Ziven’s head. My sister!

“Are you insane?” I ask. “Or did I misunderstand you?”

“I’d pick insane.”

“Why would you assume that’s my sister?”

“Just look.” He points. “Blue eyes. Her face—kind of.”

The creature’s eyes are blue indeed, but eerie, and nothing like fae eyes. They’re small, horrific round balls. And the monster’s face is uglier than any bird I’ve seen, with almost no feathers.

“You’re suggesting my sister’s ugly.”

“I said nothing about ugly, Marlak. I said the monster bird has her face and her eyes. And think! Why did she disappear during the day? Why was she the only one to survive? What do you think she ate all these years, if she has never touched the kitchen or the supplies?”

The bird manages to shatter most of the ice keeping it in place, so I blow it back with a gust of air, then form more ice around its feet. I can’t believe I’m having such a ridiculous debate with the human prince—even if he’s making some good points.

“Ziven, she’s imprisoned on this island. Why would she be able to fly in and out to catch coastal birds?”

“She’s still returning, right? So it’s a kind of prison. And maybe having to stay on this island only affects her human form. You know it makes sense.” In a lower voice, he adds, “And I know it must hurt to see her like this. But she’s alive. The rest can be fixed.”

I decide to block the monster’s air and make it faint. As I’m about to do it, it emits a horrifying scream. And then, when I try to connect with the air around me, it’s gone. My connection with the humidity is also gone.

“Marlak, something’s happening to my magic. I can’t use it.”

“Same. Let’s run.”

At least the ice keeping the monster’s feet in place is still there, as we rush to the drawer chest, push it away, then dash through the door.

The interior of the tower is all open, and with so many broken windows and doors everywhere, it’s likely that the monster bird will soon reach us.

Still, we descend the stairs in a hurry, as if going down or up could make any difference.

Ziven yells, “We could hide in one of the boxes outside.”

“It’s wood. The bird shattered the window grids.”

“Then what’s your idea?”

It’s a stupid idea perhaps, but the only thing that crosses my mind. “Rolled sheets, curtains, something. We can trip its feet, wrap around its neck to hold it back.”

Without a word, Ziven pushes open the door to a room, pulls a sheet, while I pull another.

He’s breathless as he says, “We could even try to tie something on it and climb on its back. Then when it flies away, we can escape.”

“Your optimism astounds me.”

He pulls a blanket and rolls it fast. “You’re the one suggesting we fight that thing with sheets. You think it’s any less optimistic?”

“If your ridiculous suggestion that it’s my sister is correct, what can we do? We can’t use swords.”

“So you admit I’m right.”

“No. But I’d rather not take the risk.”

The monster bird appears at the door, screeching again. The opening is too narrow for us to try to wrap anything around its body—or for it to enter. The monster bangs its head against the door, but it’s thick rock, and even though it cracks, it doesn’t break. It retreats and leaves, and that’s when I realize the window is broken.

“It will come in from outside,” I say. “Once it gets here, we leave this room, since it still won’t be able to cross the door. I’m wondering if there’s a cellar, something more closed downstairs.”

“Weren’t we going to fight it with sheets?”

“We’d need to surprise it; catch it from behind—or above.”

The monster then dashes through the open window. Ziven throws an unfolded blanket on it, managing to cover its head, and we run out of the room, then descend more stairs. When we reach the broken dining room, Ziven stops.

“Shit, Marlak.” He puts a hand over his heart. “Can you feel it?”

“Deep anguish? Yes. Now let’s run.”

He shakes his head while his knees buckle. “I… can’t.”

“Great. Now I have to carry you.”

“Just run and find a place to hide. You’ll have a head start while it attacks me. Try to survive, then tell people exaggerated tales of my bravery. I don’t want to be forgotten.”

“Sush with the drama.” I crouch and pull him up, over my shoulder.

Then everything revolves around me. Not only my magic is gone, but my senses are foggy and my breathing is shallow. I can barely breathe. At least I have time to kneel so as not to drop Ziven. I’m about to faint—while there’s a monster bird ready to attack us.

I have to fight this magic. I have to. I try to get up, but it’s no use; I get dizzy and lose my balance. All I can do is gather all the strength I can to drag Ziven to a corner, then pull the top of the broken table and cover us. How long that will keep us safe, I don’t know.

All I know is that my eyes are closing despite my effort, and all my muscles are giving way.

I can’t faint. Can’t. I have to fight this.

Despite all my will, the world still fades.

I see Astra, so beautiful, so powerful, focused on something in front of her, and send her all my love. This goodbye is heartbreaking, is too soon, but it’s not forever. She’ll carry on.

ASTRA

T he echo of my scream still rings in my ears.

“Something wrong?” Ferer asks.

“Marlak’s in danger.”

I can see him awake and fighting, running, something bad happening to him, and yet now I don’t know what to do. He’s not sleeping, so I can’t reach him in his dreams.

A voice then comes from the heart. “Please, help me.”

It almost sounds like Marlak, but it’s different. And the voice is too calm, even if it’s pleading.

“Can you hear it?” I ask Ferer.

He nods. I’m more worried about my husband than this heart, though.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“Help me stop this castle,” the heart says.

Not the heart. I recognize the voice and frown. “That’s Renel. Why am I hearing his voice?”

The crystals get even redder and brighter. I’m annoyed at that voice. Marlak’s in imminent danger, and I don’t have time for a Renel-sounding heart.

“It’s important.” A different voice says, a voice that sounds female and distant.

“Help me save Marlak.” I close my eyes again and see him running, fighting some kind of monster. Despite all his magic, all his power, I know he can’t stop the creature.

A vision comes to me of his dead body and a fae woman weeping by him. It makes no sense.

“Help me stop the castle,” the heart with Renel’s voice repeats. “If it gets to the Fiery Gorge, an entire city will be destroyed. They don’t deserve to die. Help them, please. Stop this castle.”

“Why is he talking to me?” I ask Ferer, even if I fear he might not know the answer either.

“The heart must have a connection with magic and magical objects. He must be talking to some artifact.”

I do my best to ignore the heart and say, “Marlak’s in danger. There’s some kind of monster threatening him. I thought I had to come here to save him, but I don’t know how.” I am desperate.

“The heart should be the answer,” Ferer says. “It might be able to control magic outside it. Take a deep breath and trust. Remember: trust.”

Trust. It’s what Nelsin asked me to do.

Renel’s still pleading, and even though his issue sounds serious, my priority now is Marlak. I decide to ask the heart.

“How can I save him?”

“Cut the bonds,” a female voice says. “Cut the magical bonds, and you’ll save your husband.”

“How do I cut it?”

“It’s the vine to your right. You’ll need the Sundering Dagger.”

The dagger I activated in the sanctuary comes to mind, but that’s not a solution. “I don’t have it.”

“Call upon it,” the voice says.

I’m starting to think it’s the crystal talking to me, or else it’s nobody, the castle, or the Almighty Mother. I decide to trust the voice, remove my hands from the heart, and recall the feel of that dagger, recall the moment Marlak showed it to me, explained why he needed an opus stone to activate it, remember his look of awe when he realized the dagger was working. With all that in mind, I imagine the dagger in my hands and close my eyes.

For a second, I feel Marlak behind me, as if he was in this castle with me, his presence giving me strength, amplifying my magic. I use all that magic to focus on the dagger.

When I open my eyes, I see the artifact lying by my feet. I don’t have time to be impressed at my accomplishment and bring it up to cut that vine.

“It will break all bonds,” the voice warns. “You cannot choose. But it might be a good thing.”

“Great.” I don’t hesitate, and move the dagger against that black vine, which strangely feels soft like butter. The problem is that a searing pain reaches my arm, so much pain that I feel I’m being torn into thousands of pieces, being turned upside down. I know it’s the heart fighting back.

I pull my dagger back, place a hand on the heart, and whisper, “It will be fast, and it will be good for you. Bonds enslave us.” I take a deep breath—and cut.

Blinding pain seizes me. I can’t hear or feel anything other than pain, so much pain.

RENEL

“ P lease help me,” I repeat for what must be the thousandth time.

It’s night already and I’m glad the castle has not yet moved. I don’t know why I still hope, but what else can I do? Then I wonder if it’s real hope, if what I’m doing counts, or if it’s the excuse I’ll give myself once my actions cause the death of thousands.

See? I kept talking to a magical stone until the end. I tried.

Even I want to laugh at my pathetic excuse, but I ran out of options by now, and I’d rather try something than nothing.

The door opens, and Azur walks in. “I checked and double-checked. The castle’s empty, unless there are still fae hiding really well. Some of them were in cupboards, closets, or under beds. Like I said, many didn’t want to leave, but I made them go, like you asked.” He adds a hard edge to the last words.

“Thank you. I know you’d rather let these poor souls die, so I’m sorry I forced you to save them.”

Azur snorts. “You truly think they’ll have a fruitful life after the castle is consumed in fire?”

“They’ll have a chance, Azur. Who knows? Every life matters , my father used to say.”

“The quality of their lives should matter a little, no?”

“Sure. Now let me keep talking to the heart.”

Azur stares at me. “You’ve been doing this for what? Five hours now? What difference do you think it will make?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying.”

“Do you need help while you beg for some magical intervention? Do you want a drink? Something to eat?”

That doesn’t sound like a true offer of help, just Azur being grumpy Azur. Some fresh food would be appreciated, but not if he’s going to roll his eyes and whine as if he’s being oppressed.

I point to the corner of the room where I have a jug of water, bread, and cheese. “I brought food. You can rest. Leave the castle if you want. Who knows? Maybe you’ll survive.”

He chuckles, then all of a sudden, his eyes widen. I hear a scream somewhere, or maybe it’s my imagination, or perhaps someone outside. It doesn’t make much sense. Exhaustion is getting to me after all the running yesterday.

Azur’s eyes widen as he stares at me, then he laughs and pulls a sword from his scabbard. It’s not his sword, the one lost when he beheaded Zorwal, but a new, cheap one he might have taken from a guard.

I feel bad for him and say, “If I survive, I’ll make sure you get a new sword.”

He laughs. Laughs like a maniac. Exhausted as well, no doubt.

“You can rest,” I say.

Azur sneers and steps forward, the tip of his sword close to my belly. I’m not sure what he’s trying to show or say, and raise an eyebrow. “Yes, it’s crappy. You’ll get a new one.”

He throws the sword aside. “For goodness sake, Renel, don’t be so dim.” He’s trembling, angry, but then, he’s often angry.

“I’m tired. Say what you want to say.”

Azur crosses his arms. “Can’t you feel it? Let me guess: you can’t, since it makes absolutely no difference to you. It hasn’t reshaped your life, hasn’t enslaved you.”

I’m too tired to deal with his tantrums. “Speak clearly.”

“The bond is gone. I no longer serve you.”

“Truly?” I don’t think I’ve ever had such a relief exhale in my life. “You can leave then. You’ll survive!”

“Stop it. Stop pretending you care. Stop making me not want to kill you. I told myself I’d kill you the moment this bond was broken, and now you’re here, looking all happy for my life. What’s wrong with you?”

“Can’t I be happy you’re not going to be consumed in fire? Why wouldn’t I be happy? Here I am, feeling awful for dragging you into this mess, and now you’re telling me you’re free. How am I supposed to feel? Upset that I’ll have no companion in my painful death? Are you insane? And why would you want to kill me?”

Azur shakes his head and laughs. “You don’t get it, do you? You think we’re friends . You think I never resented being here. You think I love being your personal slave, I suppose.”

Why do his words wound me when I’ve known them to be true for a while? “I know you don’t like to be bound to me. I know that.”

“No, you don’t. Did you ever try to break the bond? Try to research into it?”

“Is there a way to do it?”

“You’ll never know, because you don’t care. Because it’s comfortable to depend on Azur for all your dirty work, it’s comfortable to depend on dear, reliable Azur to protect you, isn’t it?”

I swallow. “I… didn’t know there was a way to break the bond.”

He shakes his head. “Never tried to find it. Which is fine. I was your servant, and you don’t have to excuse yourself for benefiting from it.”

“You are—were—my friend too.”

“Friend?” He sneers. “I’m a lower fae, you nitwit. Do you think I don’t see all that you’ve done?”

That makes no sense. “Lower fae? Where? You don’t look like one. And I’ve done my best to protect the lower fae. Before me, any lower fae could be enchanted. I made changes, so that only those who commit a crime?—”

“You literally legalized the enslavement of the fae, and your corrupt courts upheld that. Before, it was something still frowned upon. Once it was accepted as a punishment, it became widespread, and then they looked at the enchanted fae as if they deserved it.”

“You never told me that, never told me your opinion.”

“The bond, Renel, it didn’t let me criticize you. Even then, I tried. Oh, I tried. Would you listen to me? Would you? Or would you listen to your dear, beloved Zorwal?”

“He knows how to control the council, Azur. I needed them.”

“You did not. You chose to govern for them, for the powerful. You chose to bend to their demands. And don’t tell me it’s because you wanted the kingdom to remain peaceful. Oh, no. You did that because you know damn well that you have absolutely no right to pretend to be king, and all you were trying to do was secure your power. Tell me it’s not true.”

“Who would rule instead of me? They’d never accept my brother. My sister’s cursed. Would you want me to let the council pick a new ruler? Do you really think they’d find someone better?”

“It would be the same. The same. Someone to govern for them, someone to help them bleed the lower fae dry, to help this stupid kingdom absorb and erase older, smaller courts. It would be absolutely the same. And you know that. Of course you do. You’re not dumb, Renel. You know very well who you govern for, and whose interests you uphold.”

“If I cross them, they’ll kill me. It’s not that simple.”

“Exactly. Upholding your own stupid power is all you care for. And that’s why I thought I’d kill you. Strangely, I’m looking at you now and all I feel is pity.”

There’s a knot around my throat. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that? Any of that? For me, you were my friend. I loved you, Azur.”

“Loved me like a brother, I suppose.” His voice is mocking and manages to pierce through my last remains of dignity. “I hear you. Oh, I hear you. It’s very easy to love when you make no concessions, when all you do is benefit from the relationship, when you only take. Oh, it’s so easy to love.”

I disagree—people can suck others dry and still despise them—but I don’t say anything.

He laughs. “At least now it will soon be over, won’t it? Stop begging, Renel. Have some dignity. Take up a sword. Let’s duel. I won’t even use my magic.”

I roll my eyes. At least his ridiculous proposal makes me laugh and gives a nice excuse for the tears coming to my eyes. “Sword fighting, Azur? No magic? You can’t beat me.”

“Yes, I can.”

I sigh. “Let me try to save the castle, save the Jewel City. If I survive, we can have a duel.”

“Stop it. There’s nothing to be saved. Where does that dreadful council live? Where? Where does Zorwal have a second residence, where he might be hiding? What’s the city with the most enslaved fae? Let it be destroyed. It’s appropriate. If it ends the Crystal Court, great.”

I can’t believe he thinks that. “There are also innocents in that city, Azur, and in the path of the fissure.”

“They’ll die for a greater good, for a new civilization. Nature does that sometimes. It’s the cycle of life. We’ll all go one day. For the enchanted fae, it’s a favor.”

“I disagree. There’s always hope.”

“What hope? Nobody cares about us. What hope is there?”

“You think I’ll fail, and you might be right. Let me try, Azur. Let destiny run its course. Escape the castle now, find your soulmate, and be happy. I enjoyed your company, and I’m sorry you didn’t feel the same.”

My voice cracks with emotion and I’m definitely convinced I’m pathetic.

He stares at me, likely taking note of my state. Finally, he says, “I’ll go. Enjoy your conversation with the castle stone. Maybe it can be your friend. You’re not worth any more second of my time.”

His steps retreat and I feel already dead inside, even if my demise hasn’t yet come. I think back to all my moments with Azur, from when I was still almost a child, when I thought I finally had a friend. As my brother got more and more distant from me, as I still mourned my father, I had a friend. I had someone to talk to, someone who listened. I told him my fears, my hopes, my worries. We told each other about our first and second times. I had Zorwal protecting me, giving me guidance, and I had Azur.

Both gone. The truth was that all this time, I was alone—so alone. So silly, so naive, thinking I had a friend. I had nobody. And now I’ll die alone.

Tarlia comes to mind, and I wonder if she’d also laugh and tell me she hated every moment we had.

I don’t know why I kept living for so long, stubbornly surviving—for nothing. What’s the worth of a lonely life?

My eyes close while my heart weeps. I take a deep breath and approach the stone again.

“Help the kingdom. Please.”

I’ll still try to save the castle.

I might fail, but I tried.

Tried—that’s all I’ve ever done. Never accomplished anything, never did anything to improve the kingdom. What Azur said was true, as much as it hurt. Perhaps it hurt because it was true. I was a coward.

In the end, there was nothing but failure.