Knife of Rebellion: Battles of Eyenwar, Book 1

Chapter 41- The Will of the Gods

A drop lands on my cheek. Something warm and far too thick to be water. My throat is raw, and my eyes burn. Another couple of drops splash onto my face.

My eyes flutter open. Monika hovers above me, her eye still weeping blood.

"We have to stop the fighting." She says, her voice dead and steely.

I sit up slowly, my head pounding. Alaric's body has slumped to the floor next to the dead boy.

"I'll contact the Yuvana. She'll know what to do until we get there." I mumble.

I reach out for my old mentor, her life force lost among the hundreds of soldiers. Yet, she should be easy to find. Her life energy is connected to the spirit plane, it should be bright enough to block out an entire courtyard.

Yuvana?

A whisper returns to me, a rasp that is barely recognizable.

Adelina... I'm afraid I'm not much longer for this world.

I scramble to my feet, nearly crashing into Monika.

"I have to get to Yuvana."

I rush out the door with barely a look back. In the courtyard, battle still rages. I can't see anyone I recognize.

Where are you? I cry.

Near the south wall, in the stalls.

Pushing through the field of soldiers in order to get to the Yuvana, I dodge swords and armored limbs of indistinguishable men. The only thing that matters is getting to her before it's too late.

I duck into the stalls to find her, bleeding in the hay of the first stall. I drop to my knees next to her, and start to pull my own energy from around my heart, ready to heal her any way I needed too.

A shaky hand falls on my own, "No, Adelina. This time, you must let Nature take it's course."

"Don't be ridiculous. I can heal you." I continue to gather the life threads to me.

"No, I do not want you to." She insists sternly.

I stare at her in confusion. Frustration brings tears to my eyes.

"Adelina, I have worked a long time in service of the spirits. I have waited for my retirement in Ernest ever since you were named my successor."

I shake my head in desperation, "No, my training isn't over. I'm not ready."

"Don't make excuses. You are not a child anymore, and I am ready to rejoin my family in the afterlife."

Her eyes cloud over, and she starts to croon-

"My little one. My little baby. Mama will be there soon."

She mumbles it over and over while I hold her hand. The life slowly fades out of her eyes, and her soul floats up to rejoin her child.

I never knew she had a child.

I stand up, covered in more blood and hay, vomit splashed onto my boots, and decide to stop a war. Outside the stall, men still fight each other, brother against brother, it seems. Alaric and Nadra are dead, for good this time. There is no more to fight about.

The magic of Sandalone senses my urgency and gathers to me. I hold the life threads and magic inside myself, building a store so powerful I could shake the world. I let it bloom and expand, taking my spirit along for the ride, up up into the air.

Instead of the small, invisible ghost I was when I taught with Nadra, this time I make myself enormous, and visible. Every color of my hair and eyes and skin glows out, catching the attention of every warrior on the battlefield. Instead of my soiled battle clothes, I appear to be wrapped in a robe made of stars. My hair floats in tendrils around my massive head. My spectral body is large enough to stand next to Sandalone and still be taller.

Mortals! I boom, King Alaric is dead. By right of the gods, Garen is now King. Lay down your weapons and swear fealty to the ruler of Skevet.

Every man drops to his knees. Even the Torranians and strange group of attackers I saw trap Nadra's army from the rear, although more slowly than the awed Skevetics.

Only one man remains standing, the King himself. Garen stands on the wall, near the catapults, his left arm hanging limp and bloody. His hair plastered to his forehead in sweat.

I nod to him to speak, hoping he will understand that I will make sure all can hear him.

"This has been an unfortunate day of bloodshed. I have lost a brother, and you have lost a King. Yet, this tragedy has brought us unity. Let us not waste it on sadness. Skevet will have a new King, and Queen."

Mirabel appears at his side. She rests a hand on his injured arm, Garen raises his sword high above his head.

So the gods decree it shall be. My voice resounds to every corner.

With a sharp clap of my hands, my spirit image is gone. I wake in my own body. The first thing I hear is people cheering.

"Long live the King! Long live the King!"

Next to me, a soldier with golden eyes and a smile like the sun waits for me to notice him.

I wrap my arms around him, wishing to cry. But the tears, for Yuvana and for the boy and for Monika...

Monika.

"We have to find Monika!" I gasp and tear away from Cairo's embrace.

He helps me to my feet, and the two of us skirt around the cheering crowds as Torranians and Skevetics separate out into their respective countries. Garen and his guard will have their hands full for quite some time.

Monika is in the entrance hall. Somehow, she managed to move both Alaric's body and the boy's wi out assistance and place them respectfully on the floor. She is cleaning the face of the boy when we enter.

Around her head is a strip of cloth. She turns, and Cairo catches a glimpse of the blood weeping through the bandage.

To his credit, he makes not a sound.

"Can you heal my eye?" She whimpers.

"Do you...have the eye?" I ask tentatively.

She shakes her head.

"I couldn't stand to look at it, and the second I thought that, I lost it. In the war room. It just... Vanished."

My stomach rolls, "I can't replace anything, only repair what is injured. Without the eye... I can't do what you ask."

She nods slowly, hope fading from her one remaining eye.

"I can stop the bleeding though." I offer quietly.

She nods her consent. I kneel next to her on the ground and begin my work. Cairo joins us halfway through, his arms around the both of us.

When I am done, Monika removes her bandage. I try not to look away, but the gaping whole of her socket is disquieting. All I see when I look into it is my own guilt at letting it happen to her.

"The war is over." I inform her quietly.

"I heard."

The three of us sit in silence a moment more. Then I hear purposeful footsteps along the floor.

"Perhaps a bath before the war meeting would be pertinent?" Mister Gladden says.

The caretaker has been largely absent since I returned from the ambush. It is strange, how he knows exactly when he is and is not needed.

"Yes, a bath for us all, I think." Monika answers.

"Bring us both something imposing to wear in from of the generals." I instruct.

Monika adds, "and an eye patch."

"As you command, Lady Monika. Adelina."

Cairo sighs, "I'll make sure Garen doesn't start without you."

And with that assurance, Monika and I go to wash away the stench of death.