Page 8
Chapter eight
Prosperity Requires Sacrifice
T he battle storm raged every day that week and late into the nights. After the first day, when I’d taken everything I could from the racerbristle without killing it outright, I began searching farther and farther as my father requested an increased supply. He looked so haggard and stressed, I felt compelled to help him even more than usual. My cloak was becoming embarrassingly holey since the small oily fireballs struck it each time I journeyed from the covered awnings of the streets in the city center. The heat and wind had desiccated everything for miles. The Shade would kill us all, and the prince might be helping him.
I continued to do as my king had asked and hid from everyone. Leon had checked on me a few times and had even sent the healer to help keep up appearances. Thankfully, Chef was there to be sure the healer came in the mornings or evenings when I was actually there. He spent his time snacking on the tray that Chef kept stocked for me and ignored the burns on my shoulders from the acid rain.
I was about to slip down into the servants’ hall yet again when the front door to my bedroom opened, and Leon let himself in. He quietly set the lock before turning and searching for me when he discovered I wasn’t in bed. Frowning, I returned and sat upon the edge of the mattress. Leon pulled up the chair, regarded my damaged cloak, and sat heavily. I frowned at his gaunt face, deep worry lines, and the pale, yellow tone of his skin. He moved stiffly, much less graceful than I’d ever seen him. His dimple was nowhere to be found; his gaze distant and fixed on something out the window. A few of the other inferni must be working, as billows of fire still shot out from the tower windows.
“Are you okay, Leon?”
His gaze flicked to me for only a moment before settling again in the distance. “There is never enough time to recover my strength. Fighting the Shade takes all of my energy. Father continues to demand more. He is so desperate to please the nobles that he’s bleeding me dry.” He rubbed his eyes with his palms. “But as he also says, ‘Prosperity requires sacrifice.”
“Has the Shade…” I swallowed, my mind conjuring the wisps of black smoke and strong hands. “Has he returned to the castle?”
The prince slowly dragged his gaze to my face with a hostility I’d never seen before. “Wouldn’t you know?”
Shaking my head vigorously, I leaned forward. “I wouldn’t. I never met the Shade before that moment and hope to never meet him again.” I shuddered. “The ordeal was so”—green eyes flashed before me—“troubling.” I sucked in a breath. “You know me, Leon. You know I wouldn’t hurt you in that way.”
His lips pulled up as he crossed one leg over the other. “Not in that way.”
Though he merely repeated my words, they sounded full of other meaning. “My prince? ”
Sucking in a breath through his nose, he stood abruptly. “I need your help, Aelia.”
“Yes, anything, my prince. Name it, and I will do it.” I stood up as well. “I’ve been searching at my father’s request—”
“I know.” He sliced his hand through the air, cutting off my words. “But we need to do something different—something big—to stop these endless battles. They are weakening our city and me. The nobles are unhappy. Father is furious. The seers brought us an old prophecy. Perhaps it’s time to see if we can trigger it.”
“The seers?” My mind raced through all the books I’d read. Which prophecy was he referring to? “When was it seen?”
“The day you arrived,” the prince said with a stern look. He watched me as if to read my thoughts as he spoke.
“The ruin of kingdoms from the weak ones come,
but bind, entwine, and tie them some.
As day from night, the brightness fights,
A sacrifice will make it right. “
“Hmm. The brightness fights.” I gestured to the window and smiled brightly. “You seem to be doing a good job of that already. The fire lights up everything, and the luz glows stronger than ever.” My attempt to lighten the mood fell flat. Leon’s brow worked as he seemed to mull over my words. Clearing my throat, I asked, “How have I never heard that prophecy?”
“The king has kept this one in his chambers. We thought it referred to the peasants. But now…” He shook his head as he pulled out a list from his jacket. “We need you to grab these herbs for the ceremony. We think there’s a way we can appease nature’s forces, rejuvenate our land, and even push out the Shade. But I need more power, I need more fire, and then we can end him for good. My father demands I—I mean we —end this now.”
I set my hand on his forearm, and he covered it with his. His dimple returned for the briefest moment. “I would do anything, Leon.”
Tapping his finger on the list. “The seers require these things by tonight. At dusk.”
I glanced down at the many items. “My father has many of these dried.”
“They must be fresh.”
Huffing out a breath, I shook off the fatigue that weighed my limbs as I turned for the door. I regarded his worn face and untucked hair. He put up a hand to stop me. “I am sorry, Aelia.”
Poor Leon. He needed rest and hope himself. “As the king wishes. I’m always happy to help a friend. I’ll return before tea.”
Leon’s face flashed with some emotion before a soft smile returned. “You are the very best of friends, Aelia. Thank you.”
After searching all day, I procured everything on the prince’s list. I proudly set to cleaning and preparing them for the evening ceremony.
My father worked beside me, chopping and boiling and measuring what we needed—the list of ingredients and the instructions for the potion between us. His jaw clenched regularly, as his fingers began to shake. I turned to reach for another bowl when he grasped my hand, his eyes wild and wide. His mouth opened and shut several times before he clenched his fist, closed his eyes, and hugged me.
I stood stock still for a moment before returning the hug. He patted my head. “There’s a good girl. Always helpful.” Then he released me and returned to chopping, taking a swig from a wine glass in between. Perhaps that would help his shaking.
We gathered the supplies and headed down the stairs and up the center hill. The temple stood at the top, the home and ceremonial center of the region’s seers. Besides meting out daily prophecies, they sometimes acted as judges, mediating disputes, resolving conflicts, and assisting with peacemaking. Of course, they were present at the bonding ceremonies too. Besides those who attended the balls, tended to the queen, or left their daily reports throughout the castle, I hadn’t interacted much with them. I’d never had a need, especially since I would never be bonding.
A few soldiers were posted outside the temple entrance. Within the threshold, Prince Leon and King Harold stood alongside three seers. Twenty guards gathered around them, lining the walls inside the main room. The clouds over the sun darkened the world with a sickly light. Most faces were dulled by the flickering light of the large pyre in the center of the room. As we entered, Lord Brynett passed me the lead rope of a black and white goat. I frowned but didn’t question it as we made our way to the center cauldron that was held above the flames. Already boiling and billowing, the bitter smoke seared my nostrils and eyes.
The king stood to the side, and I smiled at him as I always did, curtsying with grace before him and his son. The king turned to sit in a tall-backed chair. Behind the seers, a carved stand held a massive leather-bound book. The king’s gaze pierced me, freezing me in place before he shifted his attention to my father.
“All the supplies are here?”
“They are,” my father answered. “Fresh as requested, as well as the potion. I wasn’t sure about certain specifics since I wasn’t given the final instructions, but we gathered everything on the list.”
The seers surged forward and grabbed the bowls from us. The eldest seer, the leader, her head topped with an ornate, decorative hat, reached for the potion we had just finished. The seven seers circled the cauldron and set down the bowls. At some unseen signal, they grasped hands and began to dance slowly around the cauldron chanting in an ancient tongue. One by one—in various pauses of the chanting—a seer would take a bowl, lift it toward the dim light of the setting sun, then pour it into the liquid.
The bluebuds made the smoke glitter with a crackling cascade of sparks. The willow exuded a smell that reminded me of the riverside eddies. One seer tossed in bark from the razewa tree, and the cauldron ceased boiling for ten long seconds before erupting in bubbles and grumbling like thunder. Each substance produced a unique result.
Finally, they poured in the potion. After the plume of purple smoke had cleared, the head seer dipped a ladle into the brew, poured a small portion of the liquid into a bowl, and approached me.
The seers chanted together:
“The ruin of kingdoms from weak ones come,
but bind, entwine, and tie them some.
As day from night, the brightness fights,
A sacrifice will make things right.
Lest the deep reject the vile ones
that slink beneath and this way run.
The stars and sun turn black as pitch,
and light must fight to cure that which
has doomed us all to dark decay,
Still, love must reign and find a way.”
I frowned. A handful of guards had clustered closer at my back. A rumble from the boiling pot vibrated through the room. One seer painted a symbol on the goat’s forehead. Then she turned to me with the brush in her hand.
I stepped back, my voice wavering as tension gripped my stomach. “F-Father? My prince? Your Highness? ”
“It’s only a bit of paint, my dear,” the king grumbled. “Let them paint you.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” My mouth turned dry as ash. But I held still as the cool paint splashed upon my forehead.
“Prosperity requires sacrifice,” the head seer announced to the quiet room. “The weak must be removed, like chaff from the wheat. The weakest among us has weakened us as well.” I blinked and stared at my prince. His fist pulsed, and he nearly vibrated where he stood. His father clamped down his wrist as if to still him. “The ruin of kingdoms comes, but light must find a way to save us from the dark decay. To stop the evil, to stop the death.” She smiled at me benevolently. “Your sacrifice will save us all.”
Father shifted back and forth on his feet, rubbing at the scar on his wrist. What sacrifice was she talking about?
The seer crooned. “The prince and king lead the nation with light and hope. A sacrifice is needed to make things right. I shall take a hair now.”
I looked at the prince, who nodded slowly. He bit his lip, his eyes a bit wild as they flashed between me, the seer and the king. He shifted his weight.
“Y-Yes.”
The old woman approached again and chanted as she plucked one hair from me and another from the goat and tossed them both into the vat of boiling liquid. The potion hissed; a cloud of smoke flashed brightly before it dissipated, leaving green blind spots in my vision.
The seer canted her head toward the prince. “It is time to ask.”
Stepping up to the cauldron, the prince closed his eyes and dropped a piece of paper into the cauldron, speaking the words written on it aloud. “How can the battles with the Shade be stopped? ”
The room brightened suddenly as a narrow beam of light surged from the center of the boiling water and straight to the rune on my forehead. The silence in the room was only broken by the bubbling liquid. The light vanished.
“Who can save us all?” He tossed another paper into the water. Again, the light beamed toward my head. I stepped to the side, but it followed me still.
Leon wrote the final question out on the stand before he said aloud, “And how will she save us?” When he tossed the paper into the cauldron boiled over and turned a dark, deep red.
The seer stuck her finger into the potion, then brought the liquid to her mouth. “With a bond. From the color, it appears to be a bond of blood, Your Highness.”
Blood bond? There were only soulbonds. What dark magic was this? I froze as the prince took one step toward me; his face looked happier than before. “With your blood, Aelia, you can save us all. It won’t be much, Aelia. A quick prick would be enough.”
“It would require it all, Your Highness,” the seer corrected.
My heart stopped beating, and the prince stopped moving, his face contorting to horror. The room fell to harsh murmurs and the shuffling of guards.
“Surely not.” My father cast his arm before me, his elbow nudging me backward. The white scar on his arm glinted beneath his cuff. “Can’t we transfer the sacrifice to the goat?”
Tilting her head side to side, the seer tossed one more question into the cauldron, and a black beam pierced the goat, who fell to the ground instantly. Dead. The cauldron boiled higher, and shards of light shot chaotically around the room.
“The sacrifice was not accepted,” she said .
My mouth was agape, and I had to return my eyes from the goat to the prince. “I-I can’t, my prince, my-my king. Why would you… How could you ask this of me?”
The king stood, the power of his presence filling the room as he paced toward me and guards pressed in behind me. “You always said you would serve the crown. Serve the kingdom. Serve the queen. Now is the time for you to save us all. You can stop the fighting. You can save her life. The end of the fighting would mean healing for Her Majesty. You could protect us all.”
My hands quivered as I clasped them to my chest to still them. He was right. I always helped. I served. I obeyed. I was able and capable and wanted to do everything I could for those around me. But…this. To die? My breaths quickened. I looked at my father, but he was stricken, frozen. Then his shaking hand reached for his flask.
“Prince Leon, tell her.” The king gestured toward me.
My prince, my friend, stared hard at the monarch, his mouth opening and shutting several times before he straightened his spine and took my hand. His voice was harsh and laden with guilt, but it didn’t stop his determined tone. “I’m sorry, Aelia. I—” he glanced again at his father, who shook his head. The prince swallowed, then straightened his shoulders. Any compassion that was once there became stilted and frozen as he spoke with a kingly air. “We will make your death quick and painless. The people will celebrate this day in your name. You will be their savior.” His voice broke. “And Mother will live.”
Was this where our friendship had led us? I searched his face and the seers’ faces behind him. Was this how my years of service would be repaid? My heart raced as I stepped back. Could I do this? Was I willing to give my life to save my kingdom? To obey the king? To help the prince? To save the queen I so dearly loved? My gaze fell on the goat.
For the first time that I could remember, I shook my head. “No.”
Then, ripping my hand from Leon’s grasp, I ran.