Page 28 of Heirs of the Cursed (A Curse for Two Souls #1)

27

Dawnfall

The torches that roared around the ring of the main circus tent illuminated the little faces of the children as Darcia hummed an ancient ballad of love, hate, betrayal and greed. A ballad of dark kingdoms and chained fates.

The Ballad of the Desert Dance.

Many years ago, when she was a child, she’d met a merchant with a rather irritating temper. Among the articles he was selling, she found a book. Her friends had thought that buying it was a waste of her money since the spine was worn and most of the pages torn, but Darcia became obsessed. She was so fixated on it that she’d once brought the candle too close to read the traces of the ancient handwriting, unintentionally burning the sheets of her bed with its wax.

It was among the old pages that she found one of the passages intact. She’d read it so many times it was now engraved in her mind.

The children clapped every time Darcia finished a verse, and when she closed the book, they all protested.

“Again, again,” asked Corrin, one of the youngest, whose pale skin had darker patches due to a birthmark.

“I’m afraid it’s time to go to bed,” Darcia said. They all complained once again. “The day after tomorrow I’ll bring books for us to read together, all right?”

The blonde girl on her lap turned to face her. Through the warm flames of the torches, Darcia admired the scars that streaked down her eye and cheek as the little girl looked at her with sadness.

“You promised you would sleep with us one day.”

Darcia stroked her back and kissed her cheek. “I must prepare for this week’s show, but I promise we’ll soon. I’ll even bring chocolate cookies. What do you think?”

“Yes!” they all shouted in excitement.

A few of them rush up to hug her tightly. For Darcia, those kids who treated her like an older sister were one of the reasons leaving Dawnfall was a difficult choice to make.

All the people in the circus were important to her.

She’d been thinking of a way to set them free. On how to cut the chains of their suffering and give them back their freedom. Darcia wanted to be cautious with her thoughts, but she couldn’t help but entertain the idea of asking the young soldier, the one Bassel had feelings for, help.

Her friend had introduced her to Gallen. He’d been kind and friendly as they had strolled around the forest, talking about his new position in the Royal Army. But Gallen’s life could also be in danger if she asked that of him.

“Come on, complain no more. Off to bed.” She stood up, before assuring them, “Tomorrow will be a better day.”

She spoke those words with conviction, wanting to cling to hope with all her might. Yet that flame of faith was suddenly extinguished when thunderous shouts broke out nearby.

The explosions and commotion shook the ridge of the tent. Panic overflowed her as she scrambled to her feet and gathered all the children into her arms. She saw their wide eyes, filled with panic.

“Darcie?” Corrin asked in a trembling voice. “What’s happening?”

“Stay here. Don’t leave unless I tell you to, understand?”

“But Darcie . . .”

“Don’t go out,” she ordered, trying to remain calm. Tabil, the youngest child, began to cry. Darcia went over to him and caressed his misshapen face, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. “I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

The world fell violently on her shoulders as she looked at the children one last time. Innocent souls in an evil world that wanted to break them. She smiled at them, a promise that all would be well, before heading outside the main tent.

Darcia let out a gasp as chaos swept through the circus. People scattered wildly. Wails and cries of panic flooded her ears. She watched men and women shouting names in a fit of fear. Some of them fell to the ground, only to scramble back up and flee in terror.

Toward the forest.

Toward the city.

Anywhere they could find refuge.

The sight of it all made fear prop her feet in place, feeling the floor imprisoning her and her body refusing to react.

Bassel rushed in front of Darcia and almost tripped over his own feet as he saw her. “Darcia!”

“Bas! What’s happening?”

“The soldiers . . . They’re attacking Dawnfall!”

“What?” Darcia shouted, her heart pounding in her chest.

“They’re pulling everyone out of their homes, searching everywhere . . . They believe that the Two Bloods have lied and that one of the women among them is the cursed princess.”

Darcia felt dizzy with realization.

Harg had warned her. He’d wanted to keep her away from the horror that loomed in the city because of those who wielded swords and wore royal crests. He’d known what was going to happen and was willing to carry out a massacre against innocents just to find the king’s enemies.

She had to do something.

“I’m going to find Caeli and Sadira,” she informed him in a frenzy. “The children are in the central tent, take them to their parents!”

“Are you crazy? They’re taking every woman your age as a prisoner!”

“I’m not leaving them to their fate.”

Bassel tried to stop her, but Darcia was already running.

Darcia gasped for air. She moved forward in despair, her throat burning and her lungs throbbing for relief. She didn’t stop; she couldn’t. She had to get to the main streets of Dawnfall before Harg committed some atrocity . . .

She ignored the pain in her feet, the branches that bumped against her legs slightly tearing the bottom of her dress. Nothing mattered to her at that moment as she just kept running. But Darcia had no plan. She couldn’t take on the Royal Army and the Chaser by herself. She wasn’t a warrior.

Her legs protested in effort as she collided with several roots sticking out of the ground. And when she spotted the first buildings connecting Dawnfall to the edge of the forest, her heart skipped a beat.

Someone grabbed her before she could go any further.

“Have you lost your mind?”

Darcia stifled the scream that rose in her throat upon meeting the Midnight Thief’s eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

“Not going headlong into danger for one,” Alasdair said, raising a brown eyebrow.

“Let me go,” she ordered.

“I won’t let you do anything stupid.”

“You either let go of me or you can say goodbye to your future children,” Darcia threatened.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

She looked at him with unflappable seriousness. “My girlfriend is out there!”

When Darcia stepped forward, the thief didn’t profess a final warning. He grabbed her shoulders and wrapped his arms around her to stop her from going where she needed to be—where her soul was asking her to go.

“Let go of me!” she grunted as she tried to break free from his grip. “Alasdair, let go of me!”

“By the Triad, be smart! If you go without a plan, they’ll tie you up without a second thought, and then there’s nothing you can do to help her.”

Despair grew in her body, mixed with fear. Fear of losing everything she had, everything she cared about. When Alasdair was sure she wasn’t going to run away, he released her but didn’t step back.

Something inside her beat unrestrainedly, and Darcia raised her hand to the necklace hanging around her neck, unsure if it was the boreal gem or her own heart.

“Darcia, you’re smarter than this.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Come to your senses,” he insisted. “For your sake and that of the people you love.”

The tension that coursed through Darcia’s body subsided as Alasdair stepped forward. His hands gently squeezed her shoulders and his intense emerald eyes held her for a moment. The knot in her chest almost caused her to fold from the pain, making her forget about the soldiers, Dawnfall, the goddesses, and Laivalon . . .

An archaic feeling coursed through her body and settled in her heart. A burning, dark and dangerous feeling that latched onto in her soul.

Darcia was the first to pull away.

“I must go.”

Alasdair snorted irritably. “Do you care that much about the purity of your heart?”

“That’s what makes us different,” she stated, but regretted uttering those words after seeing conflicted emotions in his gaze.

Through the city, an inhuman shriek rang out, catching Alasdair’s attention. A big mistake, for Darcia broke free from his grip and ran toward the city.

“Darcia, no!”

Despite the sound of his steps behind her, she didn’t stop. She broke through the edge of the forest and up the great slope that separated the lushness of the trees from the rest of the sandstone and weathered wood buildings. The streets were so empty Darcia feared the worst.

As she was about to reach the square, Alasdair grabbed her wrist once more and dragged her into an alley, where the shadows cloaked them. He was about to scold her, and she to insult him, but they both restrained their urge to pick a fight at the sight of Harg Koller strolling close by.

He was clad in silver armor, the crest of Camdenn sewn in the center of his bright cape. His sword was unsheathed, held low to the ground. The screeching sound the metal made against the cobblestones was the symphony of death, along with the unrestrained wailing of Dawnfall’s inhabitants.

By the fountain, many people stood in fear. There were trails of blood pooling on the floor, windows, and walls. A sob rose in her throat, but Alasdair was there to gently cover her mouth with his gloved hand to stifle her tears before they could hear her.

The Royal Army soldiers pounded on the doors and shouted. When they got no response, they broke the hinges, forcing their way in and dragging the people inside to the square.

“Someone in this filthy, rotten city,” the Chaser began, “is hiding a cursed princess.”

Harg, who had been kind, was now someone she didn’t recognize.

Witnessing the violence and suffering, Darcia whipped angrily and dropped to the ground when her eyes found a few children crying in the corner of the square. Instinctively, she reached for the thief’s grip and Alasdair held her in his arms.

“Stay calm.”

“They don’t deserve this . . .”

Alasdair held her tighter, as if that would keep Darcia from falling any further.

“An act of treason has been committed against the Crown and our king,” the Chaser resumed. “If you don’t surrender at once, I’ll take it upon myself to tear you apart and scatter your limbs all over Laivalon until the world forgets your names.”

A wave of murmurs swept through the square.

“You have two hours or else Dawnfall will burn. And I won’t leave any survivors.”

Harg’s words cut hard into Darcia’s chest.

A promise.

“I don’t see your girlfriend or your friend in the crowd,” Alasdair said, in a failed attempt to comfort her. “I think they got away in time.”

She should be glad to hear that, she should be relieved, but Darcia’s mind was overflowed by her thoughts and those from the people around her.

“Do you think it’s true that someone is hiding the cursed princess?”

Alasdair focused his gaze on the soldiers before responding, “Maybe.”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Darcia said. “No one would dare oppose the king in this way. Not with someone so dangerous. They aren’t to blame for what is happening. And Harg . . .”

“Maybe they don’t know who they are.”

Bitter tears burned her cheeks. She might have been interested in the princesses, in the curse that was spreading through the Fallen Kingdom . . . She’d felt sorry for them having to live a life hidden in the shadows to ensure their own survival. Now, Darcia only wished they would turn themselves in so that things could go back to their strange and sad normalcy.

“He said they’re protecting one cursed princess. What about the other?”

“To the best of our knowledge, she is in Bellmare.”

“And they’ll burn down two cities just to find them?”

“You’d be surprised what people are willing to do for ambition and power,” Alasdair remarked. His arms still protected Darcia’s body, holding her firmly against his chest.

Hundreds of emotions broke her soul at the various possibilities that could plunge the city into inevitable chaos. Her heart clenched in her chest, clouding her judgment, but the only thing she was certain of was that she had to do something before it was too late.

“I must warn my father,” Darcia gulped, wiping away her tears. “And search for my friends. I have to get them far away from here.”

“And then? You’ll talk to the general to see if he’ll come to his senses? He’s a psychopath, Darcia. He was born to be a soldier and he’s become a manslayer. In matters of the Crown, that man will do anything to please his king.”

Darcia knew he was right. Even if she intervened, there was no guarantee of salvation for Dawnfall. She was nothing more than an illusionist whose powers could get out of control and create a major catastrophe for those she wanted to save.

Darcia summoned all her strength to stand up. The bones in her knees protested and her half-numb muscles contracted. She wasn’t going to stand there any longer, waiting for the world to turn its back on the ones she loved. Alasdair looked down at her from the ground before standing upright.

“You must go. You have nothing left in Dawnfall.”

“Maybe I have an important mission I’ve never told you about.”

“Well, if you do, hurry,” Darcia urged him. “This city’s hours are numbered.”

“Let me come with you,” he offered, stepping in her direction with determination in his emerald gaze.

For a brief moment, they both looked at each other in search of answers to different kinds of questions. Still, Darcia dared to ask the one that was agitating her mind only when she was certain that the thief’s proposal wasn’t a bad joke.

“Why?”

“Because I want to,” he answered, succinctly.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“Weren’t we friends?”

Could they consider themselves friends? He was a thief sought after by the world and she an illusionist without a shred of freedom. They got on each other’s nerves almost every time they encountered one another, and yet Darcia felt a strange sensation of safety around him.

“You should go somewhere safe,” she said.

“Are you worried about me?”

Yes.

“No,” she lied unconvincingly. “I just don’t want anyone in my way.”

Even through the darkness and the cloth that covered his face, Darcia knew he was smiling at her.

She’d been honest; a part of her, at least. Raised to rise above the atrocities and cruelties she’d had to survive on her own, she’d always believed she worked best alone. But Darcia also wished Alasdair would stay.

He could be a thief, a liar, and irritating . . .

But, somehow, he cared for her.

“Promise me you will leave if danger arises.”

“Darcia, I’m a thief with a price on my head. I’m always in danger.”

“At least do it to make me feel better.”

Alasdair sighed heavily. “I promise. But you better do the same.”

Darcia said nothing.

She took the thief’s hand and started running again.

When they reached the cabin, Darcia fiddled with the boreal pendant around her neck to soothe her nerves upon finding the candlelights out. But she wouldn’t be at ease until she found her father.

For long minutes, she knocked on the door and poked through every window. Her heart pounded against her ears at the lack of response, bearing a horrible thought that she refused to speak aloud in fear it would come true.

If he is in the square with the rest of the people . . .

Darcia couldn’t finish the thought as she caught a glimpse of a distant oil lamp from the corner of her eye. Beyond the hut, where the oak trees rose high and thick, stood the stables. She took a silent step forward, scared that someone had intruded or that Conrad might have returned. When she noticed the thin gray hair among the flames of the torches, she sighed in relief.

It was Gion, saddling two horses.

“Father!”

He turned around in a hurry. “Darcia!”

She hurried to him with tears in her eyes and jumped into his arms. He caught her without hesitation, a comforting feeling of safety washing over her. Since she was just a child, Gion had protected her. Even unaware of his son’s mistreatment toward her, her father had been a safe place to take refuge.

“I was just coming to get you from the circus. We have to go! With a bit of luck, we’ll reach Avaglade in a few days and . . .”

Darcia pulled back far enough to look him in the eye. “Y-You must leave.”

“I? We must go. The soldiers will be here soon. I have prepared all the supplies for a week’s travel. I have a good friend at the academy who might be able to help us,” Gion’s voice broke at the sight of tears burning in his daughter’s eyes. “What is it, my child?”

“I can’t leave them,” she muttered. “I have to help them.”

Gion watched her in silence, his response stuck in his mouth. From the moment he’d found her in the forest and taken her home, he’d been more than just a father to Darcia. He was her family, the one who mattered the most to her . . . There was nothing she wouldn’t do for him, and that was all she needed to urge him to leave. For him to find refuge away from the soldiers.

The eyes of the man who had loved her unconditionally stared at her, holding her hands in his trembling ones.

“I prayed so hard to the goddesses that you would come with me because I don’t wish to lose my little girl . . . But part of me has always known that you are part of something greater, ahm siera.”

Before Darcia could ask what he meant, Gion pulled her gently into his arms and hugged her once more, as if he could shield her from the chaos and darkness about to fall over Dawnfall.

“Remember the vramnias I gave you?” he murmured in her ear, and Darcia nodded. “The moment I have been dreading has come. Do what you must and leave this place. You must find Caeli and Ghana and get out of here. They will take you to safety.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Listen to me, Darcie. I’ll march west to gather as many reinforcements as possible and call in old favors, but you must pursue your destiny.” Gion brushed her hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ears. “I promise you that Caeli’s mother will tell you all you need to know. But first, you must get as far away from the city as you can.”

Darcia’s questions were swallowed by the tears that burned her eyes.

She didn’t know for how long she clung to her father, imploring the goddesses to protect him. But as they parted, her eyes were so swollen it hurt to blink. Gion Voreia was a good person. A father who had taught Darcia everything she knew. From history and fables, to the beauty of love and mercy.

She’d learned so much from the broken-hearted man who had raised her as his own child so she wouldn’t be alone ever again. And for that, Darcia would always be indebted to him.

“You were born into this world to make it a better place. You’re far more powerful than you have been led to believe,” Gion said, his expression tinged with sorrow. “Despite all that you have suffered and survived, I want you to know that we did our best to protect you and give you a home.”

“I know, Father.”

Gion grabbed his daughter’s shoulders and stared at her. His face was so serious that Darcia trembled. She wasn’t going to be able to say goodbye to him.

“The pendant around your neck, never take it off. Don’t give it to anyone, do you hear me?” Gion insisted and kissed her forehead only after she nodded in a silent promise. “You must follow the light.”

“The light?” she inquired, frowning. “I don’t understand.”

He dragged the back of his hands across her cheeks to brush away her tears. “I love you very much, and so did Lisabetta.”

“But she never met me . . .”

“She did,” Gion revealed. “And she’d be so proud of the woman you have become.”

Darcia opened her mouth to respond, to ask for explanations regarding her stepbrother’s mother, but the words had abandoned her. In her silence, her emotions took hold of her, until her magic stirred with a voracious hunger inside her veins, asking to be set free. She wasn’t sure how long she could maintain control.

“You’ll have to hide for a while, settle somewhere discreet. Caeli will make sure you are contacted . . .”

“Father, stop,” she implored while shaking her head. “I need you to explain what’s happening.”

But Alasdair interrupted just in time, focusing his gaze on her. “We need to go. There’s not much time.”

Darcia didn’t feel ready to leave her father behind, she never would. She hugged him one last time, breathing in the soft fragrance of ink and old books from his clothes to hold it in her memories until they found one another. Her father’s hand traveled to her cheek and admired her in silence, as if he too, were taking in the moment.

“I’ll find you, I promise,” she vowed. “And we will have the life we’ve always dreamed of.”

“Be strong, my little one,” he whispered, giving her hand a tight squeeze before letting go. “And remember that I’ll always be with you, even if you can’t see me. The world has been unfair to you. All the sacrifices I have made, that Lisabetta made, to have you in our lives, were worth it. You are our daughter, no matter what happens.”

This was a farewell, one whose end Darcia couldn’t see in time.

She wished that Gion had raised her to be a selfish person. She wished that things didn’t matter to her as much as they did. She wished she could have her family and be happy by their side—even if it meant pain and suffering for others.

But Darcia knew that one can’t always have what they want.

“I love you,” she whispered, a sad tremor in her voice.

“And I love you, my child. We will see each other again. I swear by the Triad.”

Darcia helped him onto the horse and held out the reins for him as her father offered her one last look. His smile held all the love he had for her and how much he would still love her, no matter the distance.

She kept her gaze on her father’s shadow until the flames blazing in the oil lamp flickered and vanished into the night’s mist.