The Parallels

I expect the screaming to stop once I wake, but it doesn’t. After a day of roaming through Bearmoor, Iofin’s magic finally trickled out of my body, leaving me altogether exhausted. I said goodbye to Darius and nearly dragged myself up into the massive tree before passing out on a small cot in one of its topmost rooms. Now, nothing but moonlight filters through the tiny patio carved into the tree’s side. The tree, Iofin said, was magic itself, always morphing and adapting to Bearmoor’s inhabitants.

I swing my legs over the side of the cot and grope my way through the darkness to the door. Another scream bellows from the ground below as I try to open the door. I push myself against it, but it doesn’t budge, someone has locked me in. I cross to the window where a group of torches lights the clearing below. A huddled mass of large figures stand shoulder to shoulder. I recognize them immediately - the Herrings have found me.

“We’re seeking the golden-eyed girl you are hiding,” Camus shouts. The hairs on my neck raise. “Give us the girl, and we’ll give you reprieve of our company.”

He approaches the group of Herrings, and yet another bloodcurdling scream erupts. A choir of snarls breaks through the tree line as seven shadows step out from the forest. Iofin and her pack surround the Herrings.

“Leave him,” she growls. I wish I was with them.

“What a fine coat he’ll make,” Camus says.

The torches cast enough light to illuminate a slumped figure at the center of the Herring pack just as a large cat leaps from the trees. The cat reaches the groups of Herrings first, and snarls as it sinks its teeth into the leg of one of them. A woman follows closely behind and launches herself on top of Camus, but he propels her backward with a spire of flame. Within moments there is a flurry of snarls and shouts as the forest descends into chaos. With one sweep of his arm, Camus releases a wave of fire over the mass of Herrings and animals.

Screams unfurl in the air, and someone yells, “retreat!”

The uninjured flee into the dense forest beyond the clearing. Camus raises his hand again, and that’s when I see it, lit by the torchlight for just an instant, a bracelet identical to the one around my wrist.

“A gift from Blackthorne!” He yells, just as a blue fire jettisons into the heart of Elder Tree.

The Herrings cluster together, admiring the flames that quickly spread up the trunk. Smoke rapidly fills the room, billowing out onto the porch where I lay hidden.

“Told you there were worse things than falling.” A familiar voice comes from above. I look up at the tangle of branches and see the eerie glow of two bird eyes peering down at me. Soleil soundlessly drops onto the deck, landing a few inches away. He peers over the edge. “Looks like they’ve gone.”

All that remains in the clearing are unmoving figures. The smell of singed hair rises with the smoke.

“You were there the whole time and did nothing!”

His face is unreadable when he responds. “Those were not my orders. My orders,” he clicks his talons, “are to keep you safe just in case something like this happened.” He coughs as the steady outpouring of smoke thickens around us. “Now, would you like to be burned alive or shall we get going?”

“To where?” I ask.

“My people have a tunnel that runs under the mountain that leads to the borders of Bearmoor. We’ll reunite with the others there.” He holds out his hand.

My bracelet still hums with magic, but I weigh my options and take a step toward him. I wrap my arms around his neck as he scoops me into his body. Within seconds, we are ascending into the sky. Below, flames engulf the Elder Tree and a loud thud shatters the night as the trunk breaks and crashes onto the ground. Soleil’s eyes stare stoically ahead; if he feels anything about the burning of the Elder Tree, he doesn’t let it show. The mountains come into view and a single torch illuminates our landing spot. Soleil effortlessly lands on a smooth rock ledge that leads into a deep cave.

The wind whips around us, and I shout over its roar. “Where are the others?”

He mutters something under his breath and stalks off toward the mouth of the cave. I don’t need the burning cassiterite around my wrist to tell me that something is wrong. There is no sign of the Embry or anyone else for that matter. It’s only when Camus steps from the shadows of the cave that I wish I would have taken my chances in the burning tree.

Camus barrels toward me, but I stand my ground, not wanting to risk losing my only weapon right from the start.

Slacken, relax, and roll. Oreya’s words repeatedly play in my head.

I relax my body, soften my knees, and subtly position my right shoulder forward, preparing for impact.

Watch your enemy.

His weight shifts to his front foot as his right shoulder hinges backward. When he throws his first punch, I quickly slip to the left and send a mighty blow to his abdomen. My knuckles crack on impact. The jolt of pain takes me by surprise, and that’s all the time he needs to bring his elbow down onto my back, sending me sprawling onto the ground. Blood sprays from my broken nose.

Before I have time to rebuff, he kicks my side, and the momentum sends me flying.

Once you hit the ground, you’re dead. Oreya’s face swims into my vision.

I channel the last of Iofin’s magic and land on all fours. The wildness of the Embry pack surges through my blood as I leap from the ground and let loose a feral snarl. Camus doesn’t even bother moving. Instead, he reaches out, and spirals of flame erupt from his bracelet, whipping me back onto the cold stone.

The flames retract, and he’s on me in an instant. “Thought you would appreciate the fire, goldeneyes. Seems only right, considering.” He holds my chin firmly in his hand, forcing me to look at his face. Beyond the contempt pouring from his gaze, there’s something else, something I’d not seen before - fear. He raises his voice. “I do believe you owe me and my boys.”

As he drops my head to the ground, I count the number of broken ribs - three. Camus turns to the others and is about to say something else when Soleil cuts him off.

“You’ll leave here now.” Though it comes out in barely a whisper, his hatred of the Herrings is palpable. “That was our agreement.”

He looks down at me for just a moment, but it’s enough to know that he’s used me as his bargaining chip to save his people. Despite myself, I admire Soleil’s conviction, knowing I’d do anything to protect my kin as well.

Two Herrings bind my hands with the same silver rope they used on the mages. Camus looks back and smirks at me before addressing Soleil.

“Our agreement, of course,” Camus says. “Now remind me again; what were the terms?” He’s toying with him, just as he did with Rose.

Soleil fans out his wings just as Camus launches a ball of blue flame at him. In one swift movement, Soleil launches into the night sky, but it’s too late. Camus’ fire is pure magic and pulls Soleil down to the rockface again. He tucks in his wings as the circle of fire grows smaller around him and almost touches his skin.

“When we’s was growing up and training together, there was but one thing they teach us. Do you remember boys?” He shouts to the others.

In unison, the answer comes. “Death before dishonor, blood before betrayal!”

Camus kneels just outside of the ring of fire. “Death before dishonor.” The circle of fire grows smaller, but to his credit, Soleil doesn’t flinch. “Blood before betrayal. Do you know what that means half-breed?” He spits on Soleil. “It means protecting your people and not leaving anyone out for slaughter.” When Soleil looks at me, we both realize the mistake he’s made. Camus stands again with his arms outstretched and addresses the whole pack. “Now, we may not have many codes.” Laughter erupts from the pack. “But this one,” he looks down at Soleil, “well, this one is universal.” With a quick flick of his wrist, the fire retracts into one ball behind Soleil, and his wings are ablaze.

I try to look away, but the Herring behind me wraps his arm around my throat, forcing me to watch. Even if I didn’t look, I’d never know another day when I didn’t hear the echo of Soleil’s screams. By the time the fire consumes his wings, the stone beneath Soleil is slick with blood. Camus approaches him, but he doesn’t move.

“I like my birds medium-rare. This one here is charred.” Camus’s laugh tumbles over the rockface. “Now boys, I saw some mighty fine half-breeds down there,” he addresses the pack. “We’ll get some fine coin for those pelts!” The Herrings cheer loudly. Camus raises his knife in response to their cheers. Camus’s knife is still in the air when Soleil plunges all ten of his talons deep into his thigh.

Before I know it, I’m dropped to the ground, and the Herrings behind me rush to Camus’s aid. He falls to the ground and the Herrings, too shocked to realize what’s just happened, take a moment to react. It’s a moment too long and by the time the pack springs into action, Soleil’s already disposed of my captors and is sprinting toward me as fast as his body will allow.

He connects with me, wraps his arms around my waist, and pushes us toward the edge of the cliff. He cuts away the rope around my wrist and we’re mere feet from the mountain edge before his strength gives out and we collapse onto the ground.

“Take it,” he whispers as his head slumps against my neck.

The tendrils of his magic unfurl around me like wings. His body lies heavy on top of me and for a moment, I believe that I’m back in the tunnels covered in another’s blood. I start screaming until my lungs are raw. It’s only when I have no more breath left that Camus appears. He stares down at me with what I first think is sympathy, but quickly recognize is disgust. He pushes Soleil off of me with his boot.

“Oh goldeneyes, even I can’t handle that much blood on my women.” He hoists me to my feet, appraising the blood-soaked clothing that now clings to my body.

Behind my back, talons pierce through my fingertips and I stifle my scream. I take one more look at Camus before I let Soleil’s magic soar. Quicker than I’ve ever moved, I bring my talons across Camus’s face, revelling in his agony as he falls to the ground. If it weren’t for the pack of Herrings barrelling toward me, I would finish him off right here. Instead, I glance over my shoulder.

There are worse things than falling.

I pray to the Mire that Soleil’s magic holds, as I launch myself from the cliff and into the open arms of the night sky. Magic burns its way across my back, as two large wings erupt from my flesh in a torrent of feathers and blood. The air sweeps under me, and I stretch my full wingspan outward, allowing the airstream to propel me upwards. I feel a flash of heat on my right and turn my head just enough to see Camus wildly launching flame after flame in my direction. The wind floods my ears, but not before I hear him curse me into the Fade with Gethin Stone.

With a quick thrust of my wings, I rise into the cloud cover above. The sun crests over the top of the snow-capped peaks which create an impassable border to the north. Since I can’t risk returning to Bearmoor, my only hope is to circumnavigate the mountains. I tuck my arms and propel myself into an air stream. Just as I near the top of the tree line, I extend my wings and glide parallel to the ground, scanning the forest below for any signs of life. Nothing moves. I’ve never felt so alone gliding hundreds of feet in the air with nothing above or below. I begin to drop as Soleil’s magic weakens. I must land before I don’t have the choice.

I position my body downward, but an undercurrent forces my wings upward, and I rise higher instead. But with his magic, as with all magic, comes the innate knowledge of how to control it. Rolling to the left gets me out of the undercurrent and closer to the ground, but not before a few of my feathers tear away in the process. The only clearing I can see within the tree is a river. Despite the freezing air, I know it’s my only chance of surviving the fall. It’s during the third downstroke that my wings completely dissolve, and I free fall toward raging waters below. My body shatters as I make impact, and the river swallows me whole.