Chapter 44 | Crimson smile

Madness.

This was madness entirely. Wondering briefly if the rot inside her had crept up into her brain and addled her senses, Aire approached the Púca. There would be a lot to do and very little time to do so. The small, mischievous creatures who had followed her so silently since she had woken up in the cave just looked down at her with those too wide eyes. They had been silent since observing Bloodbound Avon.

They were frightened.

Yet, they lingered.

"Friends of Cearna," Aire stood in the shadow of their perching trees, her face tilted up to them. "I need your help."

The Púca said nothing. Fear thrummed inside of Aire like a war-song, thudding heavy with each beat of her heart. For once, that fear wasn't for her. It was for the people in the mountain and the ancient hound who lay captured. His capture would mean further defilement of Cearna: Kaelara mocked and insulted Cearna with their every breath, but they hoarded her vast resources and riches with impunity.

Her sister would have given a mighty speech. So would have Junhyn. She wished for his slithering tongue and slimy words now. She had just herself, her fear and her Wield.

"I need to save the Cú Sidhe." She told them. "The Crimsons of the Kaelarian Empire and a Bloodbound of the Emperor's hidden army has captured him."

Simultaneously, all Púca looked to the Bloodbound standing far away on the shores of the lake. Cadán had declared that he would prepare food because if 'her soft heart' as he called it, was going to drag him to attack Crimsons, then they would need full bellies. Aire had pretended not to see him raise a hand over the water as he stood at the shore-side as if by old habit – waiting for it to stir beneath him.

"He is a friend of Cearna," she told them. "His blood has soaked our land in a promise of loyalty. We intend to save the Cú Sidhe and we cannot do it alone."

Púca began to descend the trees. They were still silent, but Aire felt their denial like a stone weighing heavy in the pit of her stomach.

She continued, "If the Cú Sidhe falls, who protects Dearmain? Who will protect you?"

They reached the cold ground, still staring at her with those wide eyes. She didn't know what to say and she cursed herself for not being cleverer, more like Ríona. No creature of Cearna would have denied her. How could they when to look upon her was to know that you were protected.

"If you will not help, then run. Run far and be safe." Aire told them. As they reached the ground, they began to shudder and ripple. Bile rose in Aire's throat as their skin bubbled and bones snapped. They made no sound. Wolves, sleek and lithe, began to appear where the Púca had been. Their fur was dark as night and looked to be freshly oiled. Their eyes, still to big for their canine faces, burned like wildfire.

They looked at her for a long moment. Then scattered into the forests in every direction, running silently on padded paws and vanished.

She returned to the Bloodbound, dejected but not surprised.

He looked up from the fish he had caught and was cooking. She plucked the frost-berries from the leaf sheet he had laid them on and popped it into her mouth. "They ran."

"I noticed."

"I am not surprised." Aire sat for a moment. The ache of the last few days had settled inside her and she was tired. Tired and yet, she knew she would have to push herself to her limit as darkness fell. "Púca were always known to be tricksters."

And yet, maybe they could have been convinced. 'If you were better," An insidious voice whispered, sounding remarkably like Royden. He would have found all of this amusing. She could almost see him there, semi-transparent and fussing over how to drape his hanging guts so they would not drag along the ground. 

"They could surprise you," He said as he handed her a sliver of fish. He didn't seem to care about the trickle of smoke ebbing into the sky. The wind was catching it quick, dispersing it over the trees and into the grey skies towards the mountain. "They are tricksters, but even they have a sense of loyalty and honour."

"It would do well not to rely on hope and trust," Aire began to eat, glad to fill her rumbling stomach. "If I am going to save the Cú Sidhe, then I ..."

"We," the Bloodbound interjected casually. "If we are going to save the Cú Sidhe."

She met his flat gaze, pursing her lips. He just began to eat his portion, seemingly unbothered. "We are going to save the Cú Sidhe, sweet-one. If you are insistent on this foolish endeavour and you know that I will follow regardless of the danger, at least mention me in those plans."

"If we are going to save the Cú Sidhe," She amended. "And drag Bloodbound Avon away from the mountain, then we will have to do it ourselves. We will not be helped."

"That knife in your back is lodged tight." He commented.

She dropped her gaze to her dinner. Her voice quietened. "Let it be a reminder."

He hummed but did not comment further. They finished their dinner in silence.

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They observed the Crimsons and their Bloodbound for two days before they moved camp. Right to the lake with jagged arrows, where the water was as still as glass. Aire and Cadán cleared the lake of signs of their presence and sunk into the shadows of the trees to watch them. Another tryst into the forest would bring these Crimsons to the mountain. It was nearly too late.

That night, darkness arrived like creeping fingers, shadows sliding through the trees and chased by a thick, rolling mist. A near full Blood-moon hung heavy in the sky; together with the moon and the night, it seemed as if the world was painted in reds and blacks. The cold was bitter, and it leached through her clothes and deep into her bones. She felt it in the stiffness of her fingers.

She and the Bloodbound moved through the dark silently. They had been sheltering in the cave she had woken in, far enough away from the Crimsons to be safe but close enough to keep an eye on them.

He walked ahead, stalking through the red-hued night effortlessly. He paused and waited for her and that flash of silver in the night calmed her growing fears. She would never say it aloud, would never admit it to herself that she was glad he was with her now. She was glad not to be alone. She was glad that if she died alone in the forgotten forest, slain by Crimsons like thousands of her people, someone would have known that she tried to be honorable and brave.

Crimson tents were pitched all along the lakeshore. Their fires glimmered in the night and the soft babble of their voices smoothened over the growing silence of the night. They are stayed away from the great shards of stone that pierced the earth, choosing to cloister together in the open.

Aire heaved herself onto the heavy branch of a tree, nestled close to its trunk. It hummed under her fingertips and as she watched the camp, the foliage moved. As if shielding her from view, but she could watch it without fear.

"Thank you," She whispered. The leaves of the mighty tree rustled in response.

Her Bloodbound skulking around the edge of the camp. She trusted that he could move silently and would not be caught. Some of the Crimsons sitting up their warm fires were singing tunes she had heard a hundred times in the taverns of Irial. Foolish to make such noise in the night, but like the fools they were, they were confident their status and their Bloodbound would save them. Great Wolfhounds lounged by the fires, resting their heavy heads on their paws. Firelight flickered, casting light upon their blue-merle and grey coats.

Aire shuddered. She still remembered the stink of their breath and the sharpness of their teeth.

There had to be over two hundred men here. Less than she had thought, but more than she needed. Enough to cause devastation in Valherin if they got in and with the Bloodbound, this was a lethal force. With the rise of tents, she couldn't quite place where the Cú Sidhe was.

As she expected.

She waited as the moon rose higher, bathing the camp in red. It may as well have been a river leading into the lake, where rippled as soldiers strolled along the shore-line and skipped stones across it's surface. Aire slipped down the tree as the Bloodbound returned.

"I cannot find him," the Bloodbound said, pressing the hilt of an arming sword into her hand. "He must be kept near the heart of the camp."

"Which means that I will have to go alone," She steeled herself. This was something she knew how to do. How many years had she spent slithering through the Crimson's parties in Irial, pasting a smile on her face and pressing a bag of something good into their hands in exchange for coin and protection for Junhyn's gang. This was different, but she wouldn't let herself think too long on that.

"Bloodbound Avon will notice another Bloodbound immediately," His large hand touched her upper arm, drawing her attention back to him. "Avoid her. Your blood will rouse her suspicion. Stay away from the Wolfhounds."

"My blood?" Aire's lips curled into a thin smile. "Ye truly are hounds."

"That will never fail to amuse me," He said drolly. "Go. Be safe. Wait until my distraction. You will know it when you see it."

"Wait until your distraction," She repeated.

"Yes." He quirked a brow, amusement glimmering in his moon-silver eyes. "Would you like me to write that down for you somewhere, so you do not forget?"

She smiled despite herself and thought again, that she was glad he was here. Before she could wish him The words be safe lingered on her tongue, but he vanished into the trees before she could manage to say them. Alone again, she faced her part in this plan. She skirted around the edge of the camp, keeping to the foliage. It shifted silently as she passed, her Wield thrumming under her skin but the forest was not being commanded by her. No – now she could feel it with her Wield and it was outraged that the Crimsons had come and chopped down their trees and chained their Cú Sidhe.

"Help me," She pleaded in a wordless whisper. "Help us."

Perhaps it would listen. Perhaps it would not.

Guards faced the forest. Many were men. They wouldn't do. She needed to find a Crimson woman somewhere in their ranks. She continued to skirt around the campsite, keeping to the trees. Minutes ticked by. Panic clutched at her heart, fluttering inside her belly but she kept moving.

Then, she spotted one. Three women standing near the darkened edge of the forest. One was playing a small flute, perched on the edge of a slab of stone.

"The fire keeps the wolves away," the tallest of the women grumbled. "Why do we have to pull double shifts?"

"Bloodbound Avon wants us to keep an eye on this creature. It is to be a pet for the emperor," the second guard replied, annoyance lying thin in her tone. "We have said that several times, Allon. Why do you insist on your incessant complaining. It makes these hours pass even slower."

The first guard to speak, the incessant complainer Allon, just grumbled, "And we are being given the duty of watching over that filthy hound tomorrow. There is moss growing on it."

The flute player rolled her eyes.

"How are we even supposed to bring this hound with us and capture all those bloody Wielders and bring him back?"

"The emperor will look favorably upon us for capturing these animals," the second female guard sniffed. "It would do you well to remember that."

"I'd rather the hound," the fourth said. "At least we cannot understand it. The pleading annoys me. How can they plead and beg for forgiveness after what they've done. They made the choice to be Wielders. They bear that wicked curse with pride."

Aire smoothened her hand over the soil. Days had given her more control over her Wield. The soil hummed underneath her skin. She took a calming breath, remembering Ferdia's lessons. "Will you help me?" She asked her Wield.

Thorns pricked out from beneath her skin. Yes.

Creeping through the snow and dampened grass without a sound, the briars headed for the four soldiers. The Cú Sidhe's nose twitched, his muzzle curling as he snarled.

"They made that choice," the second guard told her sharply. "They made that choice and our Emperor's grace has protected us from them for years. Without him and his forefathers and mothers, Cearna could have destroyed Kaelara years ago."

The flute player lowered her instrument. "Do you really think that they chose to be Wielders? Are they not born so?"

The two others snorted. Allon pinned the flute player with a narrowed look. "Babies are not born evil. Not even Cearnain babies. They take that magic and that makes them evil."

The second guard nodded.

The flute player frowned. "That does not make much sense though, does it?"

"You've never lost someone to a Wielder," the second guard said, something dark in her voice. "My mother used to tell me stories of Wielders stealing babies from Kaelarian orphanages and using their blood to keep their crops fertile. They would send their creatures skulking into Kaelarian war camps to kill people in their sleep and then preach about honour in the daylight. They are not to be trusted."

Across the camp, one of the tents on the lakeshore went up in a screaming blaze of noise and fire.

The guards jumped at the sudden, thundering sound and their backs faced Aire.

Briars burst from the ground in a quick silent movement and wrapped tight around their faces. Their cries were muffled as thorns cut into their skin. Aire had to rise, had to centre her weight as she spread her hands out to try and channel the briars directions. They began to pull in and the soldiers fought and struggled as the briars cut into their skin. Sweat beaded her forehead as she dragged the four of them into the shrubbery. They lay on their backs as briars wrapped them tight, tethering them to the ground.

Aire stood over them, her arming sword drawn. They spotted her, their eyes rounding. Words, curses most likely, were muffled by the thorn briars cutting deep into their jaws and mouths.

"You are too tall," she said to second guard. To Allon she said, "You are too short."

She stood over the flute-player. A moderately sized woman, one whose identity Aire could slip into. "You seem to be my size."

The flute player's gaze was pure venom.

I hate killing, she thought in a still, listless moment. But she hated what they were and what they represented almost as much.

"I cannot afford to get your uniforms dirty. Your people have caused enough bloodshed that it should be invisible to you now, but your fellow soldiers would notice the stain of throat's blood on your uniform." She whispered to them. "And a Bloodbound's nose is a keen thing."

She spread her hands out wide over them. Another breath and her briars began to shift along the earth, creeping over their throats. Thorns cut into their cheeks and mouths. Over them, Aire said, "May the North Star darken as you die. You do not deserve the green fields and silver light that bathes the world beyond."

They died with briars choking them and Aire watched until they stopped struggling. Aire stripped the flute-player quickly and slid into her uniform. The boots were a little tight, but they were well worn. She knotted the belt with her arming sword too. It felt sickening to Crimson red and though she knew it was only for this night, it felt like she was slapping Cearna and her people in the face. She bound her hair with the woman's shawl which kept her hair tight under her helmet.

When she was done, she looked down at the bodies. They couldn't be left there. Anyone who wandered this way and stepped into the forest would see them. Rot? They would smell that. She cast her hand out over them, willing her briars to cover them over.

Instead, the earth swallowed them. Buried them.

"Thank you," she whispered to the ground. If the soil beneath her heard her, it did not respond.

She headed into the camp before she could convince herself that this was a bad idea. The camp was in uproar as the fire leapt to the next tent. Madness always left cracks and Aire had long since learned to slip through them. With the helm covering her face and the shawl binding her hair tight, no one paid any heed as she moved through the camp. She moved quickly, keeping her head down and trying to seem like she knew where she was going. Soldiers rushed past her, around her like water around a stone.

Fear kept thorns pricking at the underside of her palm. The runs between tents were like miniature street, but with every step she took, the path mapped itself in her mind. It had to have been a part of her Wield. The earth reminding her of the way. All those years in the maze of Irial and her Wield had been helping her.

She rounded the corner and stopped. The mouth of a tent was pinned open, and Crimsons poured in and out. One, with a plume of silver on his helm, was shouting orders. A jagged scar cut down his jaw. Eyes, grey and cold, like a dreary day, swept over the crowd and met hers.

A bolt of warning sizzled in her spine. The man stared. Age lined his face like a worn road. Something dark pinched his brow. A low word left his dry lips.

"Here," A Crimson stepped before her, pressing something into her hands. "Take it. Do not let the captain catch you dawdling. He's whipped soldiers for less."

She broke the captain's gaze and turned to blink down at her hands. Bucket. It was a bucket.

Then, she looked at the Crimson before her. He was young and ruddy-cheeked, though fear pinched at his eyes. Everywhere. They were everywhere. But she had done this. She could do this.

She pasted on a grateful smile as she followed the soldier away from the captain's ire. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that the man had disregarded her presence and was snarling at another Crimson. Fixing her voice, she said, "Thank you. I can never seem to shake my fear around him."

Others pressed in around, hurrying towards the fires. They jostled her shoulders and as she felt the heat, lightness fluttered inside her head.

The Crimson snorted. "Between the Bloodbound and the Captain, all of us our wound tight. At least the Captain is bound by rules. That Bloodbound can do whatever she wishes to whoever she wishes. She answers only to the Emperor,"

And to what ever after-life she believes in.

Aire risked a glance at the sky. The red moon blurred out the North Star. When that moon grew full and round in the next few days, the North Star should have been at her strongest but with the red moon, who knew. The world had not seen a silver moon since the Aryshalins were butchered. They had been killed, the moon had turned red and the great seas churned violently and ate ships that had long before sailed peacefully.

"I avoid them," Aire clutched at her bucket, shrugging her shoulder. "I heard that Bloodbounds can read people's mind. Like opening a book and plucking out their thoughts!"

The Crimson laughed. "I heard that too.".

"Could it be the rebels again?" Someone questioned beside them. "They did this before."

"When we catch them, I hope Bloodbound Avon lights them on a pyre. See how they like being burned."

Soldiers stood in the water, slugging buckets and handing them out along a procession of people who hurled them over the fire. They worked quickly, their movements calm and their faces resolute.

"I hear a hint of Irial in your accent," the Crimson turned back to her. "Am I correct?"

"You would be," She made sure that he saw her smile.

"I did love to visit there when I was younger," He sighed as they reached the lake. "A pity that Lower Irial became so filthy with peasants."

Her jaw tensed. "A pity, yes."

"Stand there," Someone barked at her, pointing to the water. People pressed behind her. Bodies jostling. Fire and smoke in the air. Panic rose again. Run a voice called, echoing. She knew that voice. The boy who had saved her that day. Cadán Suanach. The city had burned, and that smoke had charred her throat and lungs ever since. The ruddy-cheeked Crimson was lost in the crowd.

Beyond the Crimsons standing in the water, the lake began to tremble.

A head broke the surface. A horse's head. It moved towards them silently, rising higher and higher.

"How did that horse get out?" Someone called as they spotted the dark coated horse standing in the lake, it's lower half submerged by water. "And how did it get in the lake. Pull it out."

A man turned to face the horse. He held out a hand, shushing it. The horse sniffed at his hand. "Be calm," the man soothed. "You are safe."

The horse – the Kelpie – lunged and clapped its now razor-sharp teeth down onto the man's arm. It hurled itself backwards, flicking a large tail into the air as it turned and plunged back into the lake. Chaos bloomed again. People rushed the water, calling for the man. They jostled her and she fell hard against the earth. People rushed over her and she went to shout, but someone stepped on her and drove the air from her lungs.

She crawled. Someone missed her head by mere inches. They were shouting into the water, but the Kelpie and the Crimson had vanished. Aire managed to rise, wincing as she looked down at her arm. The uniform was ripped and a small stream of blood ebbed.

In that break, Aire slipped from the crowd of people. Smoke began trickling through the camp. The fire wouldn't spread far. The tents at the shore were too far. She continued her search, the thread of a map in her head keeping her from paths already ventured.

Where are you? She passed the main campfire. The food supplies. Frustration bit at her. A cheer rang as the soldiers managed to douse one of the fires.

Then, a howl rang through the camp.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

Aire pivoted on her heel, plunging into a different direction. She longed to run, but she knew better than to run. Still, the need burned inside of her. Burned.

She stepped beyond a row of tents and there he was.

The Cú Sidhe. Wrapped tight in chains, wounds weeping but alive. Whoever had been guarding him had vanished – most likely to help with the fire. An uneaten chunk of meat lay before him. The chains that bound him were wrapped tight around small posts that had been driven into the ground.

As she approached, he raised his head. He had been muzzled.

"Hello, friend."

The Cú Sidhe began to growl.

She presented him with her open palms, speckled silver from years of Eoban use. "I imagine that you are not happy with me, but I intend to free you Cú Sidhe."

He continued to growl as she knelt before him. He watched her carefully, with his mismatched eyes that shone with such intelligence that she wished again, that she could speak to him. Those wicked teeth were inches from her face. Her hands quaked. She forced herself to keep going, sliding the bindings off of his mouth.

His jaw creaked open. Meaty breath heaved over her, the smell of it hitting the back of her throat. As the chains thumped on the ground before her, she paused.

"Now," She busied herself with her next move, keeping her movements slow. She could feel his burning gaze on her, devoid of warmth. A wildness untamed. "I am going to try and loosen the chains on your legs."

He didn't tear her throat open. That great chest heaved beneath a matt of mossy fur that grew to hide the deceptive length of his thick talons. The chains that bound him had been knotted and linked and lay in the grass where the end had been wound around a thick peg beaten into the icy ground.

Aire sat back on her heels, feeling the smoke choking her throat. The fire had leapt again, eating a tent far from the original blaze.

He was buying her time.

His muzzle curled, a warning slipping from his teeth as she brushed her fingers over a raw wound. A whip mark – three identical lashes lay inches apart.

"I am sorry," She raised her hands.

An ear flickered towards the camp. She glanced towards it again. Perhaps. A hand on the soil helped centre her and as her Wield groaned beneath her skin, the now trembling earth began to shift the peg that had been beaten into the ground.

"My mother had hounds," She said to the Cú Sidhe as he watched her warily, those wicked teeth gleaming. "My father could talk to any animal, but he loved birds. Loved their free spirits and their quirks. My mother loved her hounds. Great gleaming dogs as swift as the river and as loyal to her as the moon is to night. She would have loved you. You would have loved her."

The Cú Sidhe tilted his head. He tried to shift his weight and as she saw the rot staining his fur, that guilt grew anew. "I am sorry for doing that."

His nose twitched. Two sharp ears rose, one as red as blood to match his one burning eye. The peg now laying on the ground shifted with his movement. A tongue licked along his fangs. Aire didn't need to have her father's Wield to know the direction of the Cú Sidhe's thoughts. Mossy hackles rose and powerful muscles rippled as he faced the smoking camp. Chains wound his legs, trailing off to where it was still knotted to the peg. Weeping wounds darkened his moss fur.

The Cú Sidhe leapt for her, over her and the chain whipped dangerously close to her head. He landed beyond her and thundered towards the camp, baying for blood.

Aire whipped around, staring after the Cú Sidhe as he vanished into the camp. People were still shouting as the fires blazed. Then, a high pitched scream that was cut off quickly.

'Shite. Foolish hound,' Aire thought as the camp continued to smoke. In the shadow of dark, the great Crown of the World watched with a preternatural, ancient stillness that Aire could feel hanging over them. Like the great silence before a battle. The fall of a sword upon a waiting neck. The hound was thirsty for blood, for revenge. Another scream. Another. The hound would fight until he was brought down once again. That much Aire knew.

A true creature of Cearna.

If he would not stop until he was forced, then she shouldn't either.

Aire took a trembling, steadying breath and the Wield beneath her skin prickled with awareness. The earth hummed beneath her feet. Thorns pricked under her fingers. Aire Thielan smiled half-heartedly, a hand flitting to her waist to touch the weapons that hung there. Stolen weapons, but they would do. The Cú Sidhe was tearing the camp apart, moving faster than a human's eye could blink. She felt him moving like a flicker of awareness every time he landed – a pulse of silver against her mind.

Her Wield.

She would help.

Another breath. 

In her stolen uniform and in the light of the blood red moon, Aire headed back into the camp with her Wield alight and hungry

| Welcome back to Aire's world. 

Tell me your thoughts, theories and conspiracies. 

When I uploaded the chapter, it kept reverting to italics so I apologize in advance if there are some odd italics. I've combed through it but fresh eyes are clever eyes. 

Until next time - Saoimarie.