It was the fourth night of Buel, third and last month of spring. Iezabel sat in a corner, reading a book she had borrowed from Zelrine. Anheira, it was called, a collection of myths about the nameless one, based on a religion widely followed by most humans in Isouvien, Equilon, and Neisa.
A candle flickered on the table beside her, throwing a dim glow across the bedchamber. With dawn fast approaching, it was an hour past midnight. Lady Ayana breathed peacefully in her sleep, her hand unconsciously reaching for the crib beside her bed.
A low thud reached Iezabel's ears, followed by a slight creak from the wooden cradle.
Iezabel sighed and placed the book on the table before rising to her feet. Scarlett lay on her stomach, her tiny hands patting the soft padding under her blankets. Iezabel lifted the child from her little prison just as her lips parted in a wail.
"Shush, my little princess," Iezabel crooned, rocking the child in her arms. "You are going to wake your mother. You are." She pouted reproachfully at the frowning face. "Adorable little thing, aren't you?"
She nuzzled the soft blushed cheeks—the tiny fingers trying to pull her locks even as the tears kept flowing. Iezabel could lose herself in those big sapphire-blue orbs. The wailing ceased as Iezabel started humming the lullaby Lady Ayana usually sang to her daughter.
Hush little baby, go to sleep,
Mama loves thee, don't cry or weep,
Sweet little pea, don't puff thy cheeks,
Sparkle thine eyes, like stars that peep.
Scarlett stared at Iezabel as she recognized the tune and watched in puzzlement, her wide eyes following the movement of her lips.
Close your eyes as blue as skies,
Hush little baby, don't you cry,
Dream of lilies and butterflies,
Rest your head, the night is nigh.
Iezabel sat in her chair and lowered the child onto her lap, handing her a woolen doll.
Lovely as a rose, and sugar sweet,
Laugh like chimes and bells that ring,
Diamond tears and pink little feet,
Thou art my precious bloom of spring.
Those tiny hands grabbed the doll and started swinging it by its ears. Ayana twitched once, but continued her slumber.
Iezabel turned her attention back to the wriggling babe in her arms.
"I'm going to make you a new one," she murmured softly, brushing back the bright red curls she had inherited from her mother. "But only if you are a good-"
Iezabel started as a slight vibration shook the chamber, raining motes of dust from the ceiling.
Scarlett began to cry again, alarmed by the disturbance.
She rose to her feet and rocked the child against her chest, ears strained for the slightest sound.
What was that?
Just then, another, more intense vibration resonated across the stone walls, sending a jolt through Iezabel.
Faint shouts and running feet echoed outside.
The doors opened just as Lady Ayana jerked awake, her eyes skirting the chamber.
"The base is under attack," a rebel informed them. "Do not step outside."
Before Iezabel could inquire further, he closed the door behind him.
"They have come for me," Ayana whispered, dread in her eyes.
Iezabel handed over the child to Ayana and snatched her sword from atop the wardrobe. "Stay with her, my lady," she said. "I'll be back."
"Come back soon."
"I will." Iezabel rushed after the rebel down the hallway toward the entrance hall.
The commander stood near the huge stone door, three captains and a score of warriors behind him.
More explosions shook the stone temple.
"I thought they couldn't find us!" Iezabel was furious. "You said Lady Ayana would be safe here."
Cornelius turned his gaze to her. "Someone betrayed us," he said, his eyes blazing with anger. "Our gates have been breached. They are here."
"Who?"
A thunderous boom echoed through the hall. The gigantic stone door before her cracked and collapsed, shattering into a pile of smoking debris. The monotonous crunch of rubble reached Iezabel's ears before she beheld her worst nightmare.
The image she had buried deep within flashed before her eyes; a huge shadow looming behind a contingent of vlarik as they marched through the remains of her village, her entire family bound to stakes and burned before her eyes, the searing pain as the billowing tongues of flame enveloped her in their fiery embrace…
"Stand your ground and steady your swords," Cornelius shouted. "Our enemy is one of the Imperial Guard."
Iezabel's feet froze as a gigantic figure stepped over the heap of disintegrated marble; the remains of what once used to be a three foot thick door of solid stone. And his blade! It was a weapon of death forged in the darkest abyss of damnation.
Half hidden in shadows, Stonearm towered before them. A thick steel armor enclosed his knotted muscles, cold eyes glaring through the slits of his horned helm. He raised his scimitar, a blade almost as big as himself, and pointed it at the commander.
Clash of metal and horrified screams drifted in through the wrecked archway. It seemed the fallen city had been overrun by enemy forces. The base was doomed. They had walked into a death trap after all.
A deep voice echoed through the hall, harsh and ruthless like a rising storm. "Bring me Ayana of Iliria, and you shall die a painless death. Resist, and you will end up on Ryk, surrounded by terrible beasts of hell."
Cornelius shouted at his men. "If you want to run, do it now. If you get in my way, I'll gut you myself." He drew his longsword, purple cape flapping in the draft.
The commander squared his shoulders as he faced the giant. "You cannot pass further."
With surprising speed, the huge scimitar flashed, swatting aside the commander like an insignificant fly. He hit the wall with a sickening thud and dropped to the floor, unconscious.
"Where is she?" Stonearm stepped forward, even as the rebel fighters retreated with terror in their eyes. "Bring me the woman," he said, slicing the air before him. "She is the one who brought this upon you. She deserves death, don't you think so?"
At this, Iezabel's jaw clenched and her fear vaporized like mist in the wind. She gripped her blade and lunged at the giant, her fangs bared in an enraged scream. "You will never find her."
A gleam crossed his eyes as he raised the scimitar, his movement as quick as a striking viper. Iezabel realized she was done for when she sensed the blade cleaving toward her, too fast and too powerful for her to counter with her pathetically small weapon.
Iezabel felt the bone crushing tug a moment before it happened. A wave of darkness shoved her aside, followed by an ear splitting clang that bounced across the walls and shook the ground beneath her feet.
"Silverheart." The giant sneered. "It's been a long time."
A hooded figure stood over her, his dark great-sword pushing back the giant's blade. An ivory skull adorned the pommel, holding a black stone in its jaws; a stone wrought from darkness, which seemed to devour the very shadows around it.
Iezabel knelt shell shocked, her sword still clutched in her hand. The cloaked stranger had appeared out of nowhere. Iezabel couldn't sense his presence or his scent. He was no human, nor any other creature she had encountered before.
Who was he? What was he doing here?
Someone grabbed her shoulder. She raised her eyes to see Zelrine. "Please, take Lady Ayana and run. Take the escape tunnels," she said. "Now!"
"Lady Ayana!" Iezabel gasped, realization hitting her hard.
She jumped to her feet and dashed toward the bedchamber, her mind still in turmoil. The bone shaking clangs echoed through the passages as the stranger clashed with the giant.
There was no place in that battle for the likes of her. She had to get Lady Ayana out of here. Fast.
"What is it, Iezabel? What happened?"
"They are here," she said. "The Imperial Guard." Iezabel ignored her shocked expression and continued. "You are in danger, my lady. We need to leave. Right away."
Lady Ayana just stood there, rooted to the spot, wailing child in her arms.
As Iezabel watched, her expression changed from panic to that of calm and then to sorrow. "Do they know about my daughter?"
Iezabel shook her head. "But they know who you are. We mustn't tarry."
"I cannot," she said, her eyes brimming with tears. "I cannot come with you."
Iezabel snarled. "What do you mean you can't? The Guard is here for your head!"
"They are after me, Iezabel, not Scarelett," she said. "They will keep coming after me no matter where I run."
"What are you saying?" Iezabel asked, already dreading the answer.
Her voice broke. "I want you to take her far from here… far from me. Take her to Atlantis. She will be safe there. Please."
Iezabel grabbed her shoulder. "Don't do this."
"Look at her, Iezabel," she said. "I do not want her to share my fate. She does not deserve it."
Iezabel growled. "Neither do you."
Ayana ignored her. She touched her forehead to the child's brow, tears streaming down her cheeks. She kissed her face and squeezed the child to her breast. "I love you, my beautiful Scarlett… so much. I will always love you." Ayana sobbed. Her eyes closed as she hugged the wailing child. "Farewell, my love. I will see you again one day, if the gods will it."
Looking at the resolve on her face, Iezabel knew there was no changing her mind. No matter how much she loathed to abandon Ayana in her time of need, Iezabel knew she had to do her bidding. Ayana would never forgive her if harm came to her child.
The door flew open as Zelrine rushed into the chamber. "Hurry," she urged. "One of my men sighted Iowen near the gates."
Iezabel rushed to the wardrobe and grabbed a packed backpack and the harness they had made for the child. She strapped it on, ignoring the pain in her chest. She cleared her mind and replaced her expression with a blank mask of indifference. She wasn't going to make it harder for Lady Ayana than it already was.
"She can never come back to Aria," Ayana said. She handed over the child to Iezabel, her face torn in pain. "Thank you for everything, my friend."
"I'll keep her safe, I promise." Iezabel buckled the squirming child to her front. The pain in her chest was getting more and more unbearable. She kissed Ayana on her cheek. Iezabel had never imagined it would come to this, not in her wildest dreams.
She grabbed the Captain's arm. "Please protect her."
"I'll get her out of here," Zelrine promised with a reassuring nod. "Let the gods be with you, friend. Good luck."
"Take this," Ayana said, handing Zivnâr to Iezabel. Her voice trembled with grief. "It is for Scarlett."
Iezabel strapped the sword to her belt, a reminder of her promise to Lady Ayana. "Farewell, my lady."
"Farewell, Iezabel."
Zelrine gave her the instructions. "Go to the crypts. Zelroth is waiting with his men near the escape tunnels. They'll collapse the entrance after you. You need to hurry."
Iezabel nodded. She gave Ayana's tortured face one last look before disappearing into the dark hallway with the crying child.
I will protect her, my lady, to my last breath.