Fallen Warrior (Fallen Trilogy book 3)

By Tess Williams

They say life can bloom from ashes and death. Life maybe. But can Love do the same?
A great warrior, a dead friend, a dark stranger, and a broken princess. In Fallen Warrior, the epic final installment of the Fallen Trilogy, all must turn to a forgotten legend to find hope. But can Ellia, ruler of Shaundakul turned Chimera warrior, sum up the strength of will to retrieve this legend's power? Hasn't Cyric's betrayal destroyed her completely? All is darkness and shadow. Do you know what makes the stars shine the brightest?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tess Williams
• Release date: Jul 2, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301381968

Tess Williams

At five years old, Tess was walking down a gravel path and saw that one of the rocks had been kicked away into the grass, all alone. She was instantly upset, cradled the poor rock in her hands and returned it to it’s family of fellow rocks. She told me a story then, of how the rock had come to be all alone, complete with romance, intrigue, and betrayal. She was never without a book. And had read the complete Lord of the Rings Trilogy four times before the age of thirteen.It is with this kind of imagination, passion, and love for stories, that Tess now wrote her young adult fantasy novels. She began writing her first novel, Ember, at age sixteen and didn't stop.Tess Williams passed away on May 3, 2014.

Book preview

PART ONE

Shadows fill an empty heart, as love is fading

From all the things that we are, but are not saying

Can we see beyond the scars, and make it to the dawn

-What about now, Chris Daughtry

CHAPTER ONE

ELLIA:

Fire, water, metal, stone,

These creatures drawn

From far

Summer, winter, autumn, spring,

Four strongest, bold

From stars

And star by star

As a small bit of well-memorized myth ran through my mind, I looked up above me. There were stars there, hundreds, or thousands, too many to guess at. But each had its own vibrancy to set itself apart from the others. And some danced and shimmered while others stood constant. Some were clustered into constellations and some stood apart. Each as diverse as if it held its own soul. Star and star by star.

I suppose there's nothing we can do but keep waiting, complained Lucian. His voice came out in a huff; it echoed off the domed walls of the Echrian temple, escaping only a little through the small opening at the top of the chamber. At this time of day, the sky beyond it was vivid blue, but little of the sunlight came down. Instead the room was lit by the glow of the ember-wood, the same orange warmth that pulsed through the constellations in the temple's walls, in its floor, and in the rest of the city of Echren.

I turned to Lucian with a smile, the rustle of my dress echoing almost as loudly as his voice. I wish I could say that I remembered how long it took last time. It seemed much quicker.

Oh, I wouldn't expect you to be able to. I can't imagine what it was like for you then. He set his mouth into a line, glancing over the walls as if he were trying hard to disappreciate them.

It was difficult not to find this endearing. Though Lucian had yet to even meet the Echrian rulers, he already harbored dislike for them and he made it no secret that the reason was because the last time I'd been here, they'd done nothing to help me escape my captivity to Akadia. The fact that I was free now, or that the rulers had showed me things then that had prompted me to begin seeking out the great Constellation Animals, didn't seem to matter to him. He remained skeptical that the Echrians would help us now.

I walked to a wall, putting my hand against it, thinking of Lucian's words. They knew I would be freed. I don't know how. But they knew. And I'm sure they realized I would come back one day.

One day, perhaps, a voice replied, But certainly not so soon. It was similar to Lucian's, deep and full, but not so much so that I didn't recognize it belonged to another.

I turned, just as Lucian did, to face the far side of the room.

With a subtlety that couldn't have been more opposite to the previous entrance of the Echrian rulers, a man stepped forward from the shadows. His hair was long and golden, he wore full robes of orange, and on his arm was perched a bird of maroon feathers, a Vermillion Bird. Well met, Daughter Solidor, he greeted.

Carceron, I replied automatically. For a moment I was mesmerized by the animal on his shoulder, hearing now in my mind all the legends which surrounded it. It was hard to believe, as small as it was (only twice the size of a regular bird of prey) that it could really be as powerful as its fellow Constellation Animals. The Dragons with thirty-foot wingspans; or the White Tigers, more massive even than the chimera. But this didn't take into consideration the Vermillion Birds' ability to teleport, to say nothing of their magic flames.

I stepped forward past Lucian and bowed my head to Carceron. I saved my deepest respects for his fire-bird; only I hadn't been bowing very long before I felt a finger touch my chin, and Carceron raised my face to his. You're the Princess of Shaundakul once again, aren't you? No need to bow to ones such as us. He nodded to my crown as he moved his hand away.

Lucian had by now come up beside me, though he didn't introduce himself. He simply stopped at my side, arms crossed.

The Zuque know why you are here, Carceron said, stroking the bird.

It held my gaze, dark and sharp; I didn't know how, but it felt as if I was forced to answer.

To request their help.

To fight against Akadia? I didn't seem as if Carceron were speaking for himself either, rather that his words had come directly from his bird, and once again I answered under compulsion.

Yes.

The bird watched me carefully. Carceron began to grow a grin behind it. Don't worry, he laughed. The Zuque take their time with every request, but I'm sure he'll agree. His tone had changed entirely. Even Lucian narrowed at it. Carceron noticed Lucian's reaction ( and him, seemingly, for the first time); he smirked at Lucian while the maroon Zuque continued to study me. And who's this, but… Akadian Prince? he tested, as if he'd snatched the title from the air.

Lucian darkened further. I'm a Cirali Warrior of the second-order. He tipped his head to me. And the Princess's escort.

Carceron hid a smile, looking between us. I see Leddy will be happier than ever that she chose not to attend.

Leddy, the second Echrian ruler. I had not forgotten her, but I hadn't quite missed her presence enough to say so.

"She chose not to come?" I asked, nervous at what that might signify.

Carceron shrugged. Can you guess why?

I didn't answer; I didn't really think on it though. I thought that both of your Zuque acted as monarchs to the others. Doesn't it matter that Leddy's Zuque hears our request?

You've studied, Carceron noted.

You told me before I left the last time to remember all I'd heard. Everything I've learned since then was because of that.

Carceron paused before he spoke. Both must decide. But the Zuque don't belong to anyone, Leddy is its guardian, nothing more. He said this, then nodded meaningfully to the wall behind me.

I looked to see a bright golden Zuque, perched on a branch of ember-wood. It watched me just as the other did, perfectly still except for the tail swirling out behind it; rolling, as all of their tails did, in an endless movement that seemed impossible. Lucian spoke next.

Why didn't she come? he asked.

Carceron's expression reflected that he enjoyed the question, but he addressed me with the answer. She wasn't happy about the absence of the Akadian Master. Leddy had a fancy that things would turn out differently, but I told her from the beginning…

Akadian master? Lucian repeated. You mean then that she's loyal to Akadia? Is that the reason you left Ellia helpless before? His anger was thinly veiled. I put a hand on his arm to calm him.

It wasn't our place to stop the Akadians, Carceron said, our Zuque did not condone it; and we do not act outside of their will. Besides… Leddy was convinced that the princess did not wish to be freed, though I disagreed with her.

Lucian spared a glance for me. I wasn't sure whether he was thinking of Cyric, or whether he'd realized that was who Carceron had been speaking of. Lucian had learned a little of Cyric after Gael had rescued me from Akadia, but only that he was a Lieutenant, that I'd saved his life, and that I considered him a friend. He did not even know his name, and if he'd guessed that I'd belonged to Cyric during my captivity, or that Cyric had been the one to bring me before the Echrian rulers, it had been on his own.

Of course I wanted to be freed, I said sincerely, sorry that I felt I had to for Lucian's benefit.

Carceron gestured an open hand, as if to remind us that this was already his opinion. Leddy's ideals serve her well, except in wartime. War leaves room for only justice, the deaths of men leave too great a shadow to be overlooked. Offense will call to punishment. Guilt will call to retribution. The granted ways allow for nothing else, and certainly those that serve the Constellations will allow for nothing else. It is already destined. He pointed at the walls of the chamber, the stars, which (as I knew well from Shaundakul) so often represented destiny.

You spoke of this before, I said, attempting to keep my expression straight.

His eyes held mine with knowing; they were sapphire-blue, opposite to our surroundings. I did, he responded simply.

What about mercy? I retorted, hardly meaning to. It earned me a surprised look from Lucian, but I was almost just as surprised I'd said it. I only knew that I wasn't thinking of countries as a whole, or even armies as a whole, but rather individual mistakes. You speak of stars, I went on, more ardent, And the Constellation Animals are connected to them. Well, don't the stars shine on the good and bad alike?

Just the same? Just as brightly? Carceron followed. It didn't sound as if he were disagreeing with me; it also sounded once more as if his voice wasn't his own.

I hesitated, then I nodded confirmation.

Carceron's gaze slowly cleared. He smiled again, tipping his head casually. The Zuque want to know if you've asked the others? And, if so, what was their response?

I glanced down blinking my mind clear, then at Lucian, but only long enough to see that he was frowning. You mean the other Constellation Animals? I asked.

The fire-bird tipped its beak up. Carceron nodded.

We went to see the Byakoans. We thought you would have heard of it. It was some time ago. They agreed to join the Warriors against the Akadians, and they already helped us to take back Selket. It was the only one of eastern kingdoms still occupied by Akadians, and very near to Byako's borders. Now it's only Karatel that the Akadians hold. Well, and Akadia of course.

Was it the Baihu who agreed? Carceron asked.

You mean the White Tigers? Yes. I met with them myself. Master Lucian was there with me, he can account for my words. They were not reluctant to help, though they'd heard very little of the Constellation Animals. For them it was just one of their many myths. But they had learned of Akadia, and the war of course.

The Baihu didn't know of us? Carceron interrupted. His eyes were glazed again, while the red fire-bird had leaned in towards me.

They knew of Echren and the Vermillion Birds, I said, Just not as fellow Constellation Animals.

Carceron scoffed, perfectly reflecting the squawk of his fire-bird. Behind me there was a flush of wings. The golden bird had averted its gaze, its beak tipped in a manner that could only be described as indignant.

They responded to what I told them, though. They fully believed the myths. As a Shaundakulian I should say that the dragons didn't know of the Constellation Animals either. At least…

At least as far as its young Princess knew. Certainly Savras Solidor had his secrets.

This seemed to be Carceron speaking again, though I wasn't sure how he could speak of my father so knowingly. I thought of watching my father disappear into smoke, the ability that I now possessed. It was an ability of my heritage, of the rulers of Shaundakul, and yet I had never been told of it. And this wasn't the first time I'd considered it was possible that he had known more than I'd ever been told. The truth of the Constellation Animals, for one.

It was possible that he knew of them, I admitted.

Carceron smirked, as if he was certain of the answer himself.

I'm sure in any case that my father, and the dragons, the Qinglong, would have agreed to join against Akadia, and the White Tigers have done the same. The fact that they didn't know of the Constellation Animals before only gives more weight to their support. And as for the Black Tortoises…

The Xuanwu.

The Xuanwu, I amended. We haven't gone to them yet. The only reason I didn't return to Echren first was because of how near Byako was to Selket, where we were already fighting. And near to Yanartas, though I didn't mention this out of habit. At one point it had been a secret. Now, I supposed, that was no longer a consideration.

Carceron cocked his head, as if listening to another voice. He smiled, lifting his brows. You should have gone to the Xuanwu first, he said, But perhaps you already know that?

Lucian and I shared a look. Carceron didn't wait for us to confirm his words.

The Zuque have reached their decision, then, he said, with a bit of an exhale. Both birds called at this, though Carceron went on naturally. They will fight with you against Akadia.

Despite Carceron's prior confidence, I could hardly contain the relief this made me feel. I went on breathing again, the uncertainty that was almost always present beneath my composure waning. All this, though, before Carceron went on.

But, he said, frowning a little.

It made me frown worse, while Lucian crossed his arms. Only once you receive the approval of the other Constellation Animals, Carceron finished.

I looked from him to the fire-bird, my brow low.

By that, you mean the Black Tortoises, Lucian said for me. Because the White Tigers have already joined us, and the dragons…

The fire-bird's eyes scanned me over, in a grim sort of way that made me want to tear up, though I could hardly tell why.

Yes, Carceron confirmed, "The Black Tortoises of Genbu. If, once, they agree—because I'm sure they will—the Zuque, and we Echrian's will fight with you. With the Chimera," he added, growing a smile that reminded me of his previous excitement at the thought of war. He'd seemed disappointed at the stipulation from the Zuque, but perhaps it was enough for him that battle would come one way or the other. Still, I wasn't very assured by his words, because hadn't he been so confident that the Zuque would agree? They had, but only in a round-a-bout way. Now, if the Black Tortoises wouldn't join us, that would mean the loss of two Constellation Animals. And that could be the difference of everything.

We didn't plan on any major attacks before we went to see the Black Tortoises anyways, Lucian said, obvious cheer in his voice, mingled with surprise. We shared only a smile now.

I looked back at Carceron. We have your word then, to join us with the other animals. We can count on you to fight with us against Akadia?

Carceron's blue eyes lit brightly. My word means little, he replied. Allow the Zuque to show you the way in which they pledge themselves. He raised his hand above his head and the maroon bird took off into the air. The golden bird, likewise, flew from its perch. Carceron stepped back. I took Lucian's arm and pulled him with me, towards Carceron. Then the three of us stood by to watch the display of light and fire.

#

I emerged from one of the smaller Echrian Inns at the edge of the city dressed in Warrior's garb of tight leather and loose white linen. In my arms I held a satchel full of bright orange silk (the dress I'd worn to the Echrian Temple), also the gift I'd received from the Vermillion Birds. And on my belt rested my sword, bouncing to and fro as I descended the bright green hill.

My feet, even in my sturdy riding boots, tried to slip and skid thanks to the grass's dampness. Winter was nearing, autumn was ending especially cold, and while it hadn't yet started to snow, the ice around Echren melted where it was closest to the warmth of the ember-city, causing the hills around it to turn into misleadingly-colorful slippery slopes.

Did they get something to eat? I asked Lucian, who was a little ways down, next to Luffie and Arrin.

He nodded, and as I got closer, I saw the chimera munching on bits of meat and fruit. The two matched well, both one solid color (wings, fur, and all); only, Arrin was a vibrant gold typical to many chimera, while Luffie was dusky gold, almost grey when light wasn't shining on her. The way Arrin tells it, Lucian went on, Luffie nearly ate a pair of Vermillion Birds while we were meeting in the temple.

Luffie lifted her head, just long enough to snort her nose at Lucian, which made a puff of white in the cold air. After that, she sent me an image of herself chasing a handful of Echrian fire-birds above the city—what she deemed as perfectly reasonable behavior that they'd enjoyed as much as her.

I'm glad you could entertain yourself, I said, setting my hand between her ears, We were certainly in there longer than expected.

Yes, well, I can hardly believe they agreed to help the Ghaundians, Lucian replied. I was surprised enough when they said they would fight Akadia. Even though the Vermillion Birds are small, if they could help carry supplies over the pass, it could mean all the difference.

I nodded. These words were quite true. Since the war with Akadia, all of the eastern kingdoms were in distress, but Ghaund was farthest from Yanartas, and thus far we'd been able to do little to help them. Even with the armies pulled back, the Akadian presence in Karatel made trade difficult, and the goblins were still attacking Ghaund in periodic skirmishes. No matter what, the coming winter would be difficult for the Ghaundians, but help from Echren was wonderful news that Lucian and I would deliver on our way back to Yanartas.

This subject had taken up the largest part of our meeting with Carceron and the reason we'd been so long inside, but I hadn't forgotten our true purpose in coming to Echren, and the response the Zuque had given.

I suppose I misjudged them in part, Lucian admitted, though I still can't say that I understand their behavior. He shrugged his jacket tighter over his body, leaning back against Arrin. I noticed Carceron said something to you before we left. Was it about the Constellation Animals?

I hid a swallow, and immediately shook my head, but before I could reply a sharp wind rushed past us, drowning out any sound I could make with the crackling it drew from the city. Sparks danced up around the ember-wood, filling the sky with light. I shivered, but not from the cold. Luffie was watching me, reading the thoughts that had come at the mention of Carceron's words. I forced her off the subject, then answered Lucian. Just a courtesy to Shaundakul. Nothing important.

Hmm, he remarked. Amazing what a difference your position makes to these Constellation Animals.

You don't think Byako—

He scoffed. I was there, Ellia, remember? You won't fool me into believing they would have agreed otherwise. Though they seem keen enough to test their metal when given the chance… By this he likely referred to the White Tigers' fancy for battling—greater than any Granted Animal I'd known of before them. The trick of his words, whether realized by him or not, that metal was the element of the White Tigers, wasn't lost on my myth-filled mind. Neither was the significance of the season belonging to the Black Tortoises, which seemed to be constantly taunting me.

Do you think it will be enough? I asked uncertainly, The myths, I mean. When we go to Genbu?

Them, and you, they'll have to be, he replied.

I smiled. This was a rather positive response for Lucian. The two chimera had finished eating. Lucian picked up their empty sacks and stuffed them into his. Then he handed me the extra jacket he'd been holding.

I wish we were going there now, I said honestly.

Even I'd admit, it would be nice to be done with all this waiting, he said, holding out his hand for my satchel, which he tethered to the back of Arrin, But the truth is, there's no reason to be in a rush. We have time now. All the time we need to be careful… The Akadians are the ones that should be in a frenzy.

Only it doesn't seem as if they are, does it?

Well, they still have a lot of soldiers.

More than the rest of the lands combined, I retorted. Plus the chimera weapons.

Those don't do any good for them so long as we don't use our fire-breath, he reminded me. Then he glanced at Arrin, as if his bonded friend must have had a specific opinion on the topic. But what chimera didn't? Akadia may still be powerful, but at least for now, they're not harming the other kingdoms. And they're not going to increase their ranks, not while they're keeping their armies in the city.

In other words, they're not doing anything, I followed.

Lucian narrowed. He let out a short breath. That's a strange way to put it.

Is it? Another wind rushed by and the city flamed up once again with sparks. Luffie nudged her head against my leg, watching it as I was.

Well, I'm sure Lox has some sort of plan, Lucian said, We'll just have to hope ours plays out better than his. But for now, in any way that matters, I suppose you're right…

I looked back to see Lucian had already mounted, and he shrugged when he finished his statement.

He's not doing anything.

CHAPTER TWO

CYRIC:

I swung my sword up and around in arc, landing it with my blade pointed to the ground. Sun glinted off the metal, half-blinding me and likely anyone else close by of which there were hundreds available. I was at the center of the largest cavern of the training grounds, surrounded by the larger part of a battalion, just one of the three I rotated between training these days.

Two men, Slark, and another Sergeant, Marx, mirrored my movements at either end of the cavern—since there was no way all the recruits would be able to see just me. When they did, the soldiers followed, arcing their swords up then down, in perfect synchronization. This was a new form Lox had us learning, something from the far east—even farther than Democedes. He was very exact about how many hours we spent on it each day, and we'd already gone three, on through the hottest part of the day. Even my grip on my sword was getting sloppy, so I wasn't surprised when in the midst of their next synchronized strike, I heard a cry from one of the soldiers.

I looked over my shoulder, my torso straining too much for the grade of work we'd been doing. I saw one of the men, hunched into the dirt, over his leg, the soldiers around him averting their eyes, likely for fear of punishment. I raised my sword high in the air. Slark shouted an order and in an instant, all of the soldiers had straightened to attention, their swords at their sides, a space of a foot or two between each of them.

The fallen soldier leaned on his sword and tried to stand, but before he could I took it from him. Don't be an idiot, I said, helping him back to his knees. He tried to reply, but only hissed a wince. What's hurt? I asked, discarding his weapon. I'd already checked to find that it didn't have blood on it.

I don't know, he finally managed, my leg… his voice cut out again. He pulled at the edge of his leather pants. I bent down beside him, expecting to find a sprained or broken ankle, but then I saw a grey mark around the rim of his boot. Almost as if his skin had been stained. My mind flashed to a different sort of leg, much wider and darker, not human; but now I wasn't sure the mark hadn't just been my eyes playing tricks on me.

I didn't check again to find out. I stood and waited for Slark—who'd already been headed our direction. Unlike most the soldiers, he wasn't wearing upper body armor, or any shirt at all. His black hair had grown some, but his blue eyes made him stand out more than anything. Few in Akadia had eyes like that; they were something native to Shaundakul. Particularly Shaundakul nobility, like he'd once been.

He took in the scene very quickly, then called the nearest soldier—reading my intention, as he usually did. Only this time he was wrong. No. He needs to go to Silos.

Slark blinked. The Kanthian? His face was skeptic; but that was all. Whether I made sense or not, he usually didn't make it a habit of questioning me.

Go and take him, I ordered, knowing well that he was one of the only ones here that knew who or where Silos was, And make sure he can walk before you come back. I picked up the injured soldier's sword, then made to return to the front of the men, but Slark stopped me first.

Maybe you should go, he said. His hand was on my arm. I looked from it to him. You've been here since dawn, he added. And we still have the patrol tonight.

Trying to take my place already? I guessed with a half-smile. Your promotion really must be going to your head.

It's not just the patrol, Silos was asking after you anyways. Earlier today… I thought you may just as well take both trips at once.

He held out his hand for the extra sword. I spared a glance for the fallen soldier, who had managed to get himself to his feet, muttering something about feeling well enough to train.

I handed Slark the sword. Run them back through the course after this. They should go another hour.

He nodded. Then he raised his arm, calling loud enough to address the cavern as he walked to the front of the group.

I tipped my head back to the injured soldier as I sheathed my own sword; the same one Lox had given me so long ago. Can you walk on your own? I asked him.

He got a nod off. I wasn't about to argue, when I didn't feel particularly capable of walking steadily myself. I had a knot in my gut. And I didn't want to admit that I'd been glad Slark had relieved me. There was something both worse and better about training; the better part included being preoccupied enough not to notice. When I stopped, though, that went away fast.

The injured soldier made it out of the group before they started up with their maneuvers again, but there were no handmaidens waiting along the edge near the fountain to crowd us. There wasn't room for them anymore. They still spotted the viewing platforms, but the training grounds were completely filled up with soldiers.

They weren't all mine to train. Commander Venoc was back in Akadia to watch over his own, and Scanth had Lieutenants to train his while he was away in Karatel. Less than half of his battalion was there with him, perhaps a thousand, something like a sixth of the entire Akadian force. The fact that all but this of the Akadian army was back in the city showed.

We entered the main street outside of the training grounds only to run into almost just as many soldiers. They dotted the streets, the guard towers, the squares of Akadia, like ants, particularly leading up towards the palace district, which was a view that I still hadn't become accustomed to.

The bright golden spiraling palace that had once risen high above the city, was gone. The tallest buildings in Akadia were now the barracks, or the citadels containing the war-rooms. Lox's was the largest of these. I could see it from where I was now, resting at the top of the red-rock wall that was part of the cavern I'd just been training in. Sunlight reflected off the building's tall glass window, beyond that hung the blue dragon tapestry that had once lived in the great hall of Shaundakul.

It may just as well have been entitled Akadia's new palace.

What had followed the destruction of the real palace, the death of Molec, and most of the nobles of Akadia, was very quick action. Some Councilmembers, Lords, and Ladies had survived, demanding the rights of the council to lead in the crisis, or claims were made by certain Lords to stand in until a new King could be chosen. Even some had testified to an heir that resided on the Isle of Yanartas, and those had been silenced first, though not quickly enough that even the most common of Akadians knew that the city's once-favored captain had been a prince, that his famed ghost was no ghost at all, and that the Lady Amalia Denathar had been much more to King Molec than an acquaintance. The news of such conspiracies within the King's innermost circle had only eased the transition of power away from the nobles—though there was never much of a promise for struggle to begin with. Soldiers outnumbered laymen in Akadia two to one, and (as I'd been told by Lox many times before) soldiers followed the orders of their commanders. And Commanders Venoc and Scanth followed Commander Lox.

So, once Lox had declared the dispersion of the council, the council had been dispersed. And once he'd deemed no Lords fit to rule in Molec's place, no Lords had ruled. He'd ordered the total leveling of the half-ruined palace in the same breath he'd welcomed the soldiers back from the eastern lands. Then he'd explained the tactical necessity for the break in warring on the other kingdoms, and the permanent occupancy of the soldiers in Akadia—which had made the men only too pleased.

Then the other changes had started.

The injured soldier and I had to wind away from the palace district to reach our destination. Since he didn't know where we were going any longer, I led—though before long he could probably have ventured a guess.

Busier even than the training grounds, was the district that had just a few months ago been abandoned. The one that took up the westernmost part of Akadia, that had housed, and still did, the Granted Temple, though now it had been leveled into a pavilion known as High Hill. The largest pillars of the old temple still stood, surrounding the space, and even from this distance I could see the huddle of bright color marking the attire of those who frequented Akadia's newest and most popular location.

My soldier and I took a route that bypassed it and made straight for the western wall. Men and women—workers mostly—went on ahead of us, carrying bags or wagons full of tools, or jewels, or food. They walked, what seemed to be, right off the edge of the city, into the air where they would halt and then slowly descend until they'd disappeared. When it was my soldier and I's turn to take the lift, I hesitated to look at the scene below.

Back in Shaundakul, out by the old ruins, there'd been a lake that I'd used to skip rocks across. It had been wide enough that, for no lack of trying, I'd never managed to get a stone to its far side, and my oft-times companion hadn't even ever got one a quarter of the way. Well, if that lake had been drained of all its water, it would have been something like what now resided just outside the walls of Akadia.

Without taking into account that it was already a thousand feet from the walls of Akadia down to the dessert, the hole that had been dug into the earth was at least that much further down, wide and gaping, smoking, leaving the cavern which housed the Behemoths open to the sky. The very same cavern that had once been underground. The river of coals and fire still cut directly down its middle, and closest to the northernmost side were the furnaces that fed power to the city. Snaking around its edges, were new paths and lifts that led from the desert or the city to the cavern-bed. These roads were all full with workers, diggers, soldiers; and down below, smiths who worked faster than ever in the light of the sun. Outside the south end of the hole was the red Granted Mountain, its largest platform gaping high over the cavern. It was here that I paused to stare the longest, while the sound of the Behemoth's steps drummed in my head.

Someone knocked into the soldier beside me, drawing my attention back to what I was doing. I gave him a nod, and followed him onto the lift.

CHAPTER THREE

ELLIA:

To describe the change that had come over the Isle of Yanartas in the months since the war's end, I could have filled an entire book; the sort I'd once spent hours reading in the scholars' library while imagining the legendary Isle for myself.

What things were the same?…

The ocean, almost completely surrounding it, vicious and roiling around the clefts, but serene in the coves with bright lapping waves. The fires, flaming up in the rocky places of the isle, out from within the ground itself, like warm and golden wisps. The volcano at the top of the mountain, its largest cavern open to the air, home to the chimera, glowing deepest orange. The jungle, taking up the western half of the isle, too treacherous to be habitable, or even survivable by anyone but the Warriors, but lush enough with fruit and game to feed the chimera when they tired of fish.

What was changed?…

The treetop complex of huts, platforms, bridges, ladders, and pavilions, should have been able to be called the same—it hadn't actually shifted in style. It was still made of ropes and wood, still ranging hundreds of feet off the ground. The change had come in the number of people that now occupied the city, and of what sort. Foreigners, refuges, from Karatel and Selket, some Democedians and even some Ghaundians. They'd resided in the ground buildings until room had run out, now the space between the tree-top complex and below was meeting as more buildings were being put up between them. Tree-hugging huts, spiraling staircases, extra dining pavilions, extra training platforms.

—Because the rescued refuges had just been the start of it.

Once I'd brought up going to Byako, and we'd realized just how close their swamplands resided to the place that Yanartas touched the continents; once I'd gone there and they'd so fully pledged their help and had proved it by fighting with us in Selket, driving out the occupied Akadians; after all this, the first-order Warriors had decided to open up routes between our land and theirs.

We didn't use the actual land, it was too narrow in places, too unleveled and prone to attack by waves, but there were ferries, and fresh docks. The ride took little more than a few hours, and ever since this news had become known to our allies, foreigners from all around the lands had come, drawn by the infamy of the chimera, but promising themselves irresistibly to join the fight against Akadia. New pledges came every week, some Byakoans, those who didn't have their own White Tigers, and then from the eastern lands, and even other places I'd rarely heard of. For this reason, especially since the reclaiming of Selket, we Cirali Warriors trained more than we fought.

Yanartas had been lively before, but now there was never a moment of silence, almost always there was music, or the sound of training, or constructing; even merchants had come to peddle wares down below, adding to the bedlam. On days like today, I envied them their nearness to the Yanartian fires.

Could it get any colder? I shouted to Lucian, who flew just beside me on Arrin. The expression he wore was a mix of concern and restrained excitement, neither of which I thought pertained to the weather.

Much colder in winter, he answered, Enough to freeze you to death in flight.

It seems everyone neglected to warn me.

He laughed. You're from Shaundakul—aren't you used to worse than this?

There's a difference, we had walls. We had stone that warms up, and fire-places, and protection from the— I shivered Wind.

Well that wouldn't be so bad if Luffie didn't swoop around so much. He eyed her, this was something that he'd been trying to work with her on the entire flight back—with little success. She dove down to the southern platform now in a way that said that hadn't changed. Arrin dropped in much more composure, though I didn't miss the way his gaze was scanning the complex.

There were enough Yanartians about on the platform to make us lose a few minutes in greetings, not that we could give them the news about Echren. Most didn't know where we'd gone or why. I turned back to Lucian in time to take the satchel he was holding out for me. To the Chamber? I asked, already knowing the answer would be yes.

He stretched out a hand in that direction. I walked on and he fell into step beside me. Luffie had already told me she would stay and wait to hear the warrior's response, despite her need for rest; and it seemed Arrin had the same plan, though he wouldn't stop looking around.

Do you have the pledge? Lucian asked distractedly.

In my bag.

He nodded.

You know I can go by myself if you like. I'll make sure to give them the news from the Ghaundians as well.

Hmm? No. They'll be expecting me.

We passed a pair of Yanartian boys, young. They stopped to point at us, whispering. I smiled, while Lucian frowned. Does it bother you so much? I asked, laughing a little.

I just don't see the point to it. Everyone here has always known who I was. They didn't make anything of it before.

Before, you weren't the only surviving heir to a kingless throne, I thought. I said: You must have known this was what would happen after Molec's death.

He raised his brow at another gawker. I grew up here, where we don't have rulers. So… no, I didn't know. Before you came, I didn't even understand that royalty was treated much differently at all. And once you got your crown back… He was alluding to the attention that it had first gotten me.

Well, at least you don't have one of those, I teased.

He winced at the thought.

It probably won't be so severe once the war is over. It's just because Akadia is on everyone's mind. I certainly don't get as much attention as you.

Really? he asked with confusion. I was just thinking the same thing in reverse. You mean when you're alone?

You must be more popular, I went on, Or else the both of us together compounds the problem.

He made a face.

It looked so ridiculous that I was just about to laugh when it suddenly shifted, and his gaze along with it—somewhere behind me, and moving with a steady focus in one direction as if he were watching a bird pass. Only I knew well enough from the look in his eye that it was no bird.

I turned to see Estrid Larke walking fast along a bridge that ran parallel to ours. She was a blur of black and dark blue, the special Warrior's garb that she always wore, while the chimera, Tris, that followed behind her was just the opposite, white and pink. From their pace and direction, clearly neither of them had seen us. I waited for Lucian to call to her, when he didn't, I sighed internally and did the job myself. Ho, Captain!

She halted at the title, and so did Tris. I heard Lucian clear his throat, and Arrin whine as the two looked our way. Even with the yards of space between us, her appearance was disarming. Skin so pale it made her lips look red. And black bangs that fell into her face while the rest of her hair was pulled back into a wondrously thick ponytail. I couldn't help but thinking my trainer was one lucky Cirali Warrior.

She looked between Lucian and I without her usual smile. You're back, she said simply.

Just. It took forever in Echren, I answered. Then we had to stop in Ghaund.

Did you have a good time? she asked.

Lucian still hadn't spoken. I waited for him to respond, and when he didn't I stepped on his foot.

Yes. It was fine, he answered in a wince. I mean, it went better than we'd expected.

"Then he'd expected," I corrected, pointing his direction. I predicted this would draw a laugh if not a joke at Lucian's expense from Estrid, but she didn't do either and I was stuck laughing on my own.

The birds agreed to help then? she asked.

I said yes at the same time Lucian said not quite.

Estrid frowned.

They'll help once we've spoken to the Black Tortoises, I said.

"If they say yes," Lucian corrected.

And they promised to help Ghaund through the winter, I added.

Lucian looked like he might counter, until I raised a brow at him in challenge, then he shrugged, bobbing his head, Alright, they did promise that, he admitted, smiling a little at himself as he looked back at Estrid. Only she wasn't matching it.

We were just on our way to tell the Chamber Warriors, I explained.

Estrid jerked back suddenly. You mean you haven't seen them yet? she asked

It was hard not to frown at the quick change in demeanor. No… Why? Is something wrong?

Wrong? she echoed. She slid her gaze up to the trees and back. Well, I suppose that depends on who you ask.

What? What do you mean? I'm asking you. She'd been acting strange from the beginning, but now I was really starting to get concerned.

Her sharp brows dropped low. And I suppose you expect an answer? As soon as you demand it? Isn't that the sort of treatment princesses get?

Luffie growled.

Estrid— Lucian's voice cut off as she switched her glare to him.

You're taking her side? she said.

I'm not taking anyone's side, he corrected. Estrid, what's wrong? Did the Warriors do something?

Her brows dipped and I thought her eyes might water; this time her look was all for Lucian. And what if they did? Would you argue with them?

Lucian reared back—as suddenly as if he'd been struck. My eyes widened. Luffie flashed the answer to me… as if we all already didn't know it.

I don't see what that has to do with anything, Lucian said, If something's happened—

Estrid's eyes really did tear up now. Mine went wide and I looked helplessly at Lucian, but he was just staring at her. Estrid sniffed, then wiped her eyes. Oh, go and talk to them then, see if I care, she said. Then she made to turn, but stopped herself before and frowned at me, her expression full of regret.

I shook my head in understanding—even though I didn't really understand at all. Her frown deepened, then she turned and marched away before she could cry again. Tris followed in her wake, causing Arrin—who'd already been whining—to move to the edge of the bridge.

Lucian's expression was pure confusion. He looked between Estrid and the way to the Warrior's chamber, almost as if he wasn't sure he could say what he was about to. Ellia, I don't think I can… I think I have to—

I know, I said, Go on.

He looked after Estrid, then moved off in the direction she'd gone—quickly breaking into a run to match Arrin.

I frowned in their direction. Luffie walked up beside me, her head at my waist. We were both thinking the same thing—that there was no telling what was going on. Estrid and Lucian spent nearly all their time together, they were clearly mad about each other, and yet they still hadn't acknowledged that they had any sort of relationship. Whenever I tried to talk to Estrid about it, she usually said something about how strict he was, or how little he liked sailing. And Lucian grew flustered enough in Estrid's presence, let alone if you tried to mention her.

Do you think something's actually going on with the Warriors? I asked Luffie.

Her thoughts grew very quiet for a moment, then she presented me with a single picture. The two Yanartians that Lucian and I had passed, pointing us out and whispering. I swallowed, my throat too thick for comfort.

Come on, I said, We better hurry.

And you better be wrong, I added in my thoughts.

CYRIC:

We'd taken the lift to the desert floor, then passed hundreds of workers, soldiers, iron-works, weaving downwards into the waterless lake.

The air was somehow hotter and more putrid at the bottom than it had been when the cavern was underground. The constant clanking of metal echoed off the walls. Finally we reached the tent that marked the working place of Silos. It was a generous size, made of thick, deep maroon and purple canvases and velvets, set-up on the bottom floor of the cavern as it had to be to keep Silos close to the Behemoths.

My soldier gave me a look that expressed what he wouldn't say: that he didn't understand why we were down here, or why I'd made a man with an injured foot walk so far. I thought I must have been too kind on the walk down to make him brave enough to question me. Then I pushed back the flap of the tent's entrance. There was a strange smell, but I couldn't see far inside thanks to the lack of fire-light.

Who's that? someone called.

There was a sharp hiss and a flash of light as a torch flared up. Silos used it to light a branch of candles. I could see him now, surrounded by the rich hues of his tent, not that he was much a sight. He wore—as he always did—black robes from head to foot that left only his eyes uncovered. It was trademark to his people, Kanthians, and something of sacred importance to them—but since the first time I'd met him in this very cavern (while he'd inspected the injured Behemoths) I'd forced him to remove his head-wear in my presence, and there was no changing that now.

Master Dracla, he said, pulling the black hood down to his neck. Forgive my discourtesy.

It's fine. What's that smell? Only a small part of me was curious; that hadn't been why I'd asked.

He glanced at the smoking bowls on his desk. Just some remedies I've been testing.

For the Behemoths? I asked. It was a stupid question—keeping the Behemoths alive was Silos's job. I didn't wait for him to give the answer before waving the soldier behind me inside the tent. You've worked on men before, right? Will you look at his leg?

Did something stop the Akadian healers from being able? Silos asked, though he was already appraising the soldier. He gestured to a stool and the soldier sat.

Just do it, I ordered, having no better response.

I looked around the room while he removed the soldier's boot. It was cluttered with lush furnishings, furniture; fine instruments, small and intricate, many of them golden. The tools had come with Silos; the rest, like the tent, had come from Lox—rewards for just one of his valuable assets.

It seems to be a twisted ankle, Silos said. Not even sprained.

That's it? I marched over to them—where Silos was rotating the soldier's foot.

Unless there's somewhere else you'd like me to check.

I thought that… you remember what you said about the lead before?

With the Behemoths? Silos asked, curious.

No. I mean about the granted animals being prone to things that could eventually affect…

Humans?

Others creatures, I corrected. Anyways, it looked to me like… I frowned and bent down myself to inspect the soldier's ankle. They were both watching me. The soldier jerked away at my touch. I thought it was a wise move— if he'd halted training for a twisted ankle I was going to kill him.

There's nothing, Silos said, echoing my own realization.

The air in the tent was definitely too thick. I rose to my feet and waved a hand. Bandage it up then, I ordered. And make sure it's tight.

Right, bandages, I thought: for a twisted ankle.

I went back outside before Silos could tell me how excessive that was. I walked to one of the posts of the tent and leaned against it, crossing my arms, under shade. Without having to take any sort account of my position, I looked to the right. There, not far from Silos's tent, hugging the cavern wall was a fenced in oval that acted as home now to most the Behemoths—really all of them, only they worked in shifts that meant that they were rarely there all at once.

Despite all the pains that Lox had taken to keep them alive, only about a third of them were able to work the chains at a time, the others had to rest, and they rotated through this.

Still, according to Silos, if they'd been kept underground they would have all been dead by now, and—diminished or not—the Behemoths were still responsible for keeping the forges running at unnaturally high rates. Since the return of the soldiers, Lox had only increased production; he intended for every soldier to be wearing plate by the time the spring came, and he was constantly building new weapons, often of Bellerophon's design (the same smith who had created the chimera killing metal launchers).

Clustered together as the Behemoths were now—the children in with the full-grown adults—they really did look like a herd of oversized rhinos. One of the largest of them dipped its horn down towards the earth, and the young one beside it tucked its head over the top of the horn. Both their horns were matching tarnished gold.

I shifted my gaze from the sight.

The space around Silos's tent was in no way abandoned. The closest group of diggers looked like a mix of Birmians and Carbans. They were all too thin, sweating and dirt-smudged. A few out of the bunch were women, and one was close to me. She wore some scraps of linen that were torn. She noticed me watching her only once she'd straightened up to wipe her face. I held her gaze when she looked at me, even while she blinked, even while she frowned, but she forced me to a stop when she turned back to her work.

I swallowed, then took a steady breath, leaning my head back against the wood post, closing my eyes—but only in time to hear a scuffle behind me.

All patched up, Lieutenant, my injured soldier said. He was favoring his bandaged foot, though he had his boot back on over it now.

I saved off a glare, and jerked my head toward the exit of the cavern. Find your own way back. And if they're still running course when you get there, go around with them.

He nodded, only showing the slightest sign of confusion before I pushed past him to join Silos back inside the tent.

I was told you needed to ask me about something, I said tersely.

He was already back to working over his desk. He looked up to glance skeptically outside the tent.

By the soldier?

No. By my… My voice trailed off. I thought of Slark, and his all-too-convenient excuse to get me to go in his place. I wanted to scowl but couldn't quite pull it off. Never mind, I said to Silos. I ran a hand back through my hair, then I made to turn, but before I could leave, Silos called to me.

You're not Akadian are you? he asked. Not originally, I mean.

I hesitated. Then I looked back at him. I'm from Shaundakul.

The dragon lords? His tone was reverent.

I nodded.

May the stars keep you, then, he said, bowing his silver head.

My expression went very grim, I could tell, even though I hadn't meant for it to. I spared a final glance for his surroundings, then I left the tent.

ELLIA:

"You did what!?" I demanded, feeling as if the Warrior's chamber around me were closing in. It would be a simple enough thing, the hollowed out inside of tree, growing back as it used to be, swallowing up the circle of chairs and high table, and orbed chandelier giving off dim light.

Six of the thirteen first-order Warriors stood around me, most of them thankfully not occupying their high seats:

Lightning-eyed Alex Scarn, his wife Tory. Lodan Falster, the first man I'd ever met on Yanartian shores. A very oft-complaining bearded man, named Khaliir. Elminster, the wisest and eldest of the Warriors. Fire-haired Lyrie, who still pretended I didn't know she'd once favored my father. And Amalia Denathar, Lucian's mother.

Please, princess, Alec said, raising his hand to me, "we didn't do anything."

Don't call me that. Just… don't. You called me Ellia long after I told you who I was. If you didn't believe me before I had my crown, I don't want to be reminded constantly.

"Ellia," Lodan chided, true hurt showing through in his tone. Alec looked rightly offended as well. I put a hand to my head to collect my thoughts, but this only reminded me of what they'd just told me. I looked back at them, red-faced.

How could you even think of such a union without speaking with me first?

It wasn't that way, Tory answered for him. It was mentioned first by Prince Vartus while he was visiting, and then all of the Democedian's here were circulating the idea. Then when the news just came that Lox had been forced to dispose of another Lord for spreading word about Lucian… it was just a natural progression that it got out of hand.

None of us have confirmed anything, Alec promised.

Well, of course you haven't, it's the most absurd thing I've ever heard. If the Democedians were starting rumors, you should have stopped them. I looked at Amalia, expecting support and understanding on behalf of her son.

Of course now, I realized, that it was no wonder that Estrid had been upset. She had every right. I was only glad, at least, that she'd kept Lucian from coming to see the Warrior's with me, because I wouldn't have wanted to face him with this news.

Absurd? Amalia tested. She frowned. I think that's a strong label…

I narrowed at her, but only until I was distracted by Alec. Have you heard the situation in Akadia? That most there realize that Lucian is the heir to the throne?

Of course I have. I don't see what that has to do with anything.

It's the war, Lodan said, In the war, in the final battles, when they come again. And if we defeat Akadia—

We will defeat Akadia, I interrupted.

Yes, well, have you thought in that case, who will rule it? Lodan went on.

It's not as if it will disappear with Lox, Alec said. Your people will return to Shaundakul, and whatever others are there can be freed, but what about the Akadians?

I had to swallow at the mention of Shaundakul. I pressed my lips to think, then almost burst out, Are you saying that Lucian would rule it?

The silence of the Warriors was answer enough. Particularly Amalia, holding her chin steady.

Have you asked him about this? I asked.

There's a consideration of duty here, Kahliir said, Not only personal want.

Yanartas is Lucian's home. He has a chimera. He couldn't—

You speak confidently on his behalf for someone so opposed to marriage, Tory pointed out. Her eyes were speculative, as if she guessed to trap me in admitting I would actually want to marry Lucian.

Even if Lucian did want to rule Akadia, I said, I don't see what that has to do with me.

Verification, Lodan threw out.

Alec elaborated for him. Surely you're aware, Ellia, of the weight royal alliances give. It's not just after the war ends—if we even do win—there's a chance that if Lucian's position is confirmed it could help in the battle. We've seen the affect his appearance had on the Akadian soldiers, imagine if he could convince men to fight for our side before the battle had even begun.

The affect Lucian's appearance has on the soldiers has nothing to do with the fact that he was Molec's son. That was because his brother was Captain, a great captain. Akadian soldiers don't care about heirs and royalty, they care about their military leaders. They're not going to turn on Malatos Lox because Molec wasn't faithful.

As soon as I got the words out, I closed my eyes, wishing I hadn't said them. When I glanced at Amalia, I felt as if I'd been slapped, and she wasn't even looking back at me. The Warriors had grown a little more withdrawn, but I felt reproached as well, and even foolish, like a child.

"An alliance between the Cirali Warriors and Shaundakul even more than Akadia and Shaundakul would assist with the war effort," Elminster mentioned—in his painfully slow way that had everyone holding their breaths by the time he had finished.

Even you're supportive of this? I asked Elminster. Is everyone?

Lyrie lifted her brows in a manner that said she wasn't. Lodan looked thoughtful at least. I didn't want to think of Amalia's expression. Elminster scoffed.

I don't see why that matters one way or another, he sputtered. I'm not blind. Princess Solidor didn't come to Yanartas alone and it's her raven-haired friend that Lucian fancies, not her. He chuckled at his words. Lyrie joined him, and for a moment I wanted to as well.

Most of the others looked stricken. Tory in particular, but I didn't see why all of them could be so dense about it. Lucian wasn't here; I'd told them why in so many words. They all knew he hadn't come to report when he was meant to—and if they didn't realize that that was proof enough what Estrid meant to the stringent Warrior, they really were blind, like Elminster had said.

This doesn't need to be discussed thoroughly now, Alec placated. Perhaps everyone should take some time to think on it… We'll be sure to quell any rumors for the time being, Ellia.

We'd never make you do anything that you didn't choose, Tory added.

We should return to the matter of the Echrians, Alec went on, Their assistance in Ghaund—do you know if they would fight the Wyverns if necessary?

I tried hard not to sigh. We'd discussed most of what had happened with the Vermillion Birds before the talk of marriage had come up.