Page 75 of Keeper of the Word (The Unsung and the Wolf Duology #2)

Chapter

Sixty-Eight

ELANNA

T hey were pursued, but they stayed ahead. Tired. Fatigued. But with a sense of duty. And hope. Elanna uttered it over and over. Hope.

Traveling back into Grenden, they followed the Glendower River until, at last, in their sights was Asalle. Already, its transformation from the city of Light into something bare and bleak could be detected. Its wall, which had shone with glory and grace, gloomed.

The towers of Castle Sidra protruding into view slumped like defeated warriors.

But the worst sight was that of the emptying of Asalle.

Everyone had been ordered out of the city. Citizens, rich and poor. Young and old. Laborers and beggars. Constables and criminals. Everyone.

The masses flooding from Asalle’s great gates pooled onto the road and into the surrounding countryside. Most did not possess horses or carts or means to go anywhere, so they had built tiny camps along the banks of the Glendower and even into the wide-open space.

Whether Asalle’s citizens lingered because they thought their exodus was temporary, Elanna did not know, but what she focused on was the countless unarmed citizens—so many women and children—whom she observed from their vantage point on the hill across the river.

“Stars almighty,” Ghlee said. “This shall be a bloodbath.”

The words stung. Yet everyone knew them to be true.

On the other side of the hill, through a spyglass, they were alerted to at least three separate armies steadily marching their way toward Asalle.

In the distant south marched a massive army, like a dark cloud gliding across the plains.

Most likely, it belonged to Anscom, whom Crevan had evidently kept as prisoner to control his massive forces.

How many days would it be before it reached this place?

“We do not have long,” Kyrie reminded Elanna, reining in her horse prancing under the tense air.

Night coasted nearer. “Nay, we do not,” Elanna returned. “In more ways than one. Where is Tara?”

The Nay Moon night was tonight, and through StarSpeak, they pinpointed where they would rendezvous. Tara was to leave Asalle at the last possible moment, knowing that she would be unable to return.

What Tara had detailed had been madness.

The sovereign’s madness. In his dying fever, the sovereign had decreed that the castle’s food stores be burned.

The servants had compliantly obeyed until Tara stepped in.

The castle was starving. But that was not the only thing Rian had ordered burned.

Scores of scrolls from the Royal Library, the carcasses of the ravens, which he’d ordered killed, and all of Prince Dashiell’s possessions.

Worst, Rian regarded Ferika now as if he knew her not and had banished her from his side. Tara had intervened there as well, but Ferika did not wish to cause her husband further anguish, being that he was in so much pain and did not even know himself any longer. The queen’s heart was decimated.

Hux pocketed his spyglass. “What has delayed them so long? These armies, I mean. To arrive here.”

“The skirmishes they had along the way, no doubt,” Tolvar supplied. “And although we know that Greenwood, Anscom, and now Norwell conspire against the throne, most of these armies are most likely misinformed or coming to, they assume, the sovereign’s aid.”

Elanna heard the stars’ voices above. “We cannot wait much longer,” she told the other StarSeers, who returned nods. “Keep watch for Tara. Send her to us,” she said to Tolvar.

The three walked an hour’s half, trading off who carried Maristel, until finally, they came to a spot in the green that felt like where they were supposed to be.

Not far away, a copse of trees that had shed their leaves swayed in the autumn wind.

The coolness of the nearby river hit their faces.

Kyrie strolled the area, gazing up and then down.

“Here,” she eventually said. The others joined her. She stooped, pulling grass out of the ground.

“What are you doing?” Casta asked, crouching. Maristel also yanked grass, imitating Kyrie’s movements. Elanna knelt, too.

’Twas a large, flat stone buried in the ground, the surface of which was smooth and glittered like granite.

Once Kyrie had the long grass pulled up enough that ’twas clearly visible, she ran her fingers over the stone. “Give me one of the starstone coins, Elanna.”

Elanna withdrew one from her pocket, and Kyrie used it to chisel into the stone while the others studied her with curiosity. When she was finished, she blew the dust away and sat back.

She’d carved a five-point star into the stone.

Elanna’s fingers traced over it. Aye, ’twas as she had Seen.

Kyrie held out one hand to Elanna and one hand to Casta. “We can wait no longer. We shall have to hope that the stars will still bestow their prophecy on us.”

The four gripped hands and waited.

Daughters of Light, Elanna heard. But no more came.

“Come on, Tara,” she whispered.

The hours grew long, and only an hour or so remained of night.

“Tara, where are you? ”

A commotion stirred in the distance, and all at once, the quiet that had been their companion transformed into something horrid, the din raking against them.

“Something is wrong,” Casta said and stood. “We need to return.”

“Nay, Casta, we cannot leave this spot.” Kyrie broke their bond and pointed to the stone.

Casta paled. Maristel hugged her arm. “Bad man,” Maristel whispered. Casta’s hand brushed along the back of Maristel’s head. “Bad man,” she repeated.

“We cannot leave this spot!” Kyrie said.

The din tilted into an uproar of a battle. Shouts. Metal against metal. Cries of death.

Stars. They could not leave this spot.

The din writhed closer.

Closer.

“To the trees. We shall hide there!” Elanna sprinted to the copse of trees, ignoring the fact that their thin trunks would certainly not conceal them. The others joined her. They backed themselves well into the trees, their eyes wide at what might approach.

Elanna, Daughter of Light. Your time diminishes.

“Wait!” she yelled, the others shushing her. She whispered to the stars, “Cannot you wait? We’ve come this far. Do not leave the realm without hope.”

With the bare branches above, she could make out several stars. Their light oscillated as if in decision. “Do not leave the realm without hope!”

A crash of movement ruptured onto the green, and several men in combat came into view.

In the darkness, ’twas difficult to detect everyone’s identities.

Alvie was easy to spot, he being shorter than the others.

Was that Hux? But who did they fight? For it did not appear to be Crevan’s Brones.

Regardless, their fray put them in the very spot of the stone that Kyrie had carved.

Casta and Maristel crouched to the ground. Maristel’s sobs of fear grew louder .

“’Tis all right,” Elanna whispered.

Humankind has grown cold. Hope is but a candle’s flame waiting to be snuffed out.

“’Tis not so bleak,” she returned to the stars, her gaze fixed on her favorite star. “Show us what you will. Show us!”

Others joined the combat, and Elanna could scarcely ascertain if they were friend or foe.

She stood. “Hux, you must move this fray away from here!”

The dark form she knew to be Hux gave a curt nod and moved his opponents—stars, he fought three—away from the green. Alvie did the same.

Suddenly, roaring into the battle came Tolvar and a man of the same build, which had to be Ghlee. “We have Tara!” Tolvar shouted.

“Elanna! Where are you?” Tara’s silhouette came into view.

The fray had shifted away, but only a little. But no matter. Elanna would show the stars where hope lay.

“Come!” She raced out of the trees and found the stone. “Tara, here!” She motioned for Tara to join her. “Quickly!” she shouted.

The night diminishes.

’Twas true. The first fragments of dawn approached.

“Hurry!”

The Five knelt together, the battle surrounding them. Maristel bawled in fear. “Hush, Maristel! All will be well!” Elanna gripped Tara’s and Maristel’s hands, who gripped Kyrie and Casta.

Their circle was complete.

The battle’s roar was a monster in their ears.

“Gaze up. Do not falter!” Elanna shouted.

Stars. ’Twas too loud. Maristel lost her grip, and Elanna seized her hand.

All at once, the night sky became light itself.

Five shall there be, from two separate lands

The gift of the stars’ Sight held in their hands

The Way is shown to each one henc e

Together, they keep fortune’s providence

First, a solitary star of glorious gold

Will have the missing map to behold

The Second will know strength and pain

And know the secrets of how sin is slain

Third will possess the star of dawn

And lift shadow’s curse holding strong

The valiant star of the Fourth’s fate

Is to See the only key that may open the gate

The Seer of stars who is to be last

Has the greatest of all the impossible tasks

To bring forth the true sovereign foretold

Who must mark his path, singular and gold

Only then can the Five combine their Sight

Else Asalle shall ne’er come to the Light

The brilliance of hope shall thus be regained

And will See that good is preordained

For two, once one, torn with blood red

Will reunite with Asalle at its head

The Capella Realm anew and once more alive

Put to right by the Stars of the Five

The radiance vanished, and the Five were left endeavoring to retain the gleam of the prophecy’s missive. Though they had collapsed, Elanna still held Tara’s and Maristel’s hands as she regained herself. The scent of blood stung her nose.

’Twas Tara who withdrew first.

“Goodsell!” she yelped.

The battle was over. And bodies littered the ground.

Goodsell lay motionless on the grass. Tara knelt next to him and took his head in her lap. Her shaking hands came up. The early light revealed the blood. “Goodsell!” Tara cried, rocking him as she held his shoulders. “Goodsell!”

Those who had survived stood in grief.

“Goodsell!”

A small gasp escaped him. “My beauty. I had to save you.”

“Do not leave me!” Tara cried. “Not when I need you so!”

Goodsell shuddered and was gone. “Stars, curse you!” Tara screamed. “How could you take him from me?” Her fingers tore at her hair. Her shriek was heinous, and when it died, it left an echo that bit at the air.

Elanna and her sisters wrapped themselves around her. “Tara, Tara, shhh,” Elanna repeated.

They met eyes. Tara’s burned. She had an eternity of words inside her. But naught came out.