Ash Fallen Read online

  Lexis

  Rosalie pulled the note to her chest. “I can’t believe this.”

  “I’m sorry, Roe. I know you liked her.”

  She stood and started pacing again. “I feel like such a fool.”

  “She fooled all of us. Including Marx, and he’s a Discerner.”

  “Yeah, strange he didn’t see that coming.”

  “Well, whatever you do, don’t ask him about it. He’s a little sensitive about it these days.”

  She wanted to agree with him about Marx but knew it would reveal too much. “So, what do we do?”

  “Not much we can do. She’s gone.”

  “Yeah, but do you believe her when she says she won’t reveal your plans to Lord Zebadiah?”

  Ash paused to consider. “I do. But even if I don’t, there’s no time to change our plans now. We’ll just need to be cautious.”

  She nodded. “I should probably start practicing with your men.”

  Ash stood to his feet. “What? No, Roe, you aren’t coming with us.” His words came out sharper than he’d intended them to. He’d planned to break the news more gently.

  “Why not? Ash, I want to go with you.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  She crossed her arms in defiance. “You’re forbidding me, is that it?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Women don’t customarily go into battle,” he said lamely.

  “Was Lexis going to get to go? I’ve seen her practicing.”

  He didn’t answer her question. Instead he said, “Can you just accept I have your best interests at heart, and leave it at that?”

  “I don’t need you to protect me. I can take care of myself.”

  He tried to soften his tone. “Ordinarily, I would believe you. But in this instance, I’m saying, no, okay?”

  Frustration building, Rosalie continued to press. She wanted the truth – the truth Marx already revealed to her, but she wanted to hear it directly from Ash. “No? That’s it? Just, no. No other explanation?”

  He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Roe, I can’t explain.” How could he explain there was a time he was willing to sacrifice her life for his cause? Now it was unthinkable.

  She placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes. “Try.”

  “Because I can’t bear the thought of watching you die. Is that good enough?” Tears of desperation crept in the corners of his eyes.

  Rosalie took a step backwards. Although Marx had revealed his visions, nothing prepared her for Ash’s reaction to them. His anguish and vulnerability were almost palpable. “Go on,” she prodded, softening her tone. She knew what Ash was about to tell her was difficult for him. She knew he risked losing her by confessing the real reason he’d taken her from Mabel Village. The truth was she’d forgiven Ash the moment Marx told her.

  Ash pressed his fingertips to his forehead, rubbing between his eyes as if he had a headache coming on. “Before we decided to invade Mabel Village,” he started, “Marx had a vision about you.” He moved towards her, pulling her close. He bent down and rested his forehead on hers, then drew back once more and took another deep breath.

  “He saw you,” he continued. “Saw your powers. How strong you are…” His eyes burned into hers, silently pleading for her forgiveness. Or for her to ask him to stop.

  “Go on,” she said instead.

  “Through his visions, Marx was convinced that you were crucial to our victory against Druin. Against Lord Zebadiah.”

  “Then you have to let me…”

  “But he also saw you die,” Ash blurted out. “Do you hear me? You die. End of story.”

  “And what happens if I don’t go?” She wanted him to reveal the whole truth.

  “It’s uncertain.” He stroked her cheek.

  She swatted his hand away. “It’s uncertain. Exactly. If you go into battle without me, and something happens to you, do you want me to live with the regret that I could have done something?”

  He shot her a sharp look. “His vision changed. Our success is almost eminent.”

  “It’s almost eminent if I go,” she challenged.

  “That part’s not clear.”

  “And it’s also not clear if you’ll still win if I don’t go.”

  Ash remained silent.

  “I can’t take the risk,” he finally said.

  She was about to remind him there was a time he had no qualms about taking such a risk with her life, but she knew her words wouldn’t serve any purpose but to hurt him. “You’re risking your men,” she said instead.

  “No. No, I’m not. I’m preparing everyone as much as possible. Not everyone has the luxury of a Discerner. Most people approach a battle without knowing the outcome. We’re operating with the real information we have. My men are strong. Trained. We will be victorious.”

  Rosalie wondered who he was trying to convince more – her, or himself. “You’ll have a better shot if I’m there.”

  “I just can’t.”

  “But…”

  “Roe, please.” His voice cracked and his eyes darkened. “Please give me this one. I can’t lose you. It’s not even an option I’m willing to consider. If we win, but I lose you – it’s not a win.”

  Sensing she wasn’t getting anywhere, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Okay,” she spoke softly.

  She was purposely vague, but her response seemed to please him. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. A thousand emotions stirred inside him. Relief, for starters. Relief she didn’t hate him once she’d learned he’d taken her prisoner knowing it might mean sacrificing her life. Perhaps that part hadn’t sunk in yet. Amazement. Amazement that, although she heard the risk, she was still willing to join him on his conquest. And finally, love. Deep love for this beautiful woman, fused with scorching desire. When his lips met hers, there was an urgency there likened to when he’d kissed her for the first time.

  Rosalie’s hands fisted in his hair. “Make love to me,” she whispered.

  He pulled back from the kiss. His hands framed her delicate face, his thumbs tracing her full lips. “I love you, Roe.”

  “I know,” she said. “But I still might make you prove it.” She began to unbutton her shirt. She stripped off her clothes as she walked backwards toward the bed.

  Ash grinned, unbuckling his belt and sliding it from his belt loops. He let it fall to the floor next to her clothes.

  He shook his head as he stared back at Rosalie’s naked form. Everything inside him longed to be closer to her. “What you do to me,” he groaned.

  Her body quivered with pleasure as he stripped off the rest of his clothes and fell into bed with her. He made love to her slowly. Perhaps they both knew it might be their last time. Rosalie reveled in his every move, holding back tears of unbridled admiration mingled with unspoken regret.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Lord Zebadiah gazed at Siranya as she approached him. She’d been unable to locate any variants in the last several villages they passed through, and he’d begun to suspect she was losing her gift. But she’d done well today. Her Receptor skills were strong, and she’d located four variants to add to his collection. Best of all, she’d located another Receptor – a young male of twenty.

  Zebadiah was surprised Siranya pointed the Receptor out. She had to know the man posed a threat to her. Then again, perhaps she felt assured in her place. Or perhaps she realized she’d been coming up short and needed to produce.

  The evil lord smiled at her. With her red, glossy lips, she smiled warmly back, sidling up beside him and slipping her arm through his. She thought she loved him; he knew. But he also knew it wasn’t truly love she harbored for him. She admired his position of power – desired to harness it.

  To him, she was expendable. Wicked smart. Wicked beautiful. But her thirst for control was a risk to him. He would keep her around as long as she served his purpose. Then, one day, he’d put his hands around her swan-like neck and watch the life drain out of her pr
etty face.

  “You look so serious,” she cooed, interrupting his thoughts. “Something troubling you?”

  His eyes twinkled with depraved amusement. “Nah. As long as I have you, no one can touch us.”

  His words brightened her face. “Where to now?”

  “The weather is changing. My collection is strong. Now, we return to Druin.”

  “Just one more village,” she pouted, eyes darkening with bloodlust.

  Lord Zebadiah cocked his head to the side and smiled a nefarious smile. He admired her tenacity. “Patience,” he said. “There will be another season. Besides, I want to check in on the lab experiments. I’m told we’re getting close.” His body tingled with excitement.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  When Ash stepped out of the shower and into the bedroom, he expected a fight before his departure for Druin, but Rosalie greeted him with a kiss instead. She stood on her tiptoes and slipped her arms around his neck. He took her in his arms, holding her tight while burying his head in her hair. “I’ll be back for you soon,” he said.

  “Be careful,” she whispered back.

  He took a step back to study her. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, as if she’d been crying. But her smile was radiant. “I love you more than anything,” she told him. She felt raw. Uncertain of their fate.

  “Don’t say it like we’re saying goodbye,” he told her. “I love you too, Roe. And everything’s going to be okay.”

  She smiled back at him, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. She couldn’t suppress her sadness. “You’re going to make a great leader,” she told him after a brief silence passed between them.

  He thought the statement strange. If she was so certain he would be victorious, why was she so melancholy? He pulled her close and kissed her once more.

  She followed him outside. The first leaves of the harvest season had fallen, creating a dazzling blanket of orange and gold. She stood by, trying to be brave as he mounted his horse. “Shyde, you’re going to be a beautiful sight to come back to,” he told her, and she laughed despite her sorrow. He slapped the reins, then galloped ahead to take the lead amongst his army. When he turned his head to wave goodbye once more, Rosalie wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

  Castle Druin stood stark and gray in the distance, surrounded by a forest of diseased trees. Ominous clouds blocked out the sun. Stryker and Ash led the way through the dense fog, the Alliance close behind. The horses grew unsteady. It was as if they could sense the evil of such a place.

  “Easy, boy,” Ash spoke into his horse’s ear. He stroked the beast’s mane while applying pressure to the reins. The horses weren’t the only ones with the jitters. Ash felt self-doubt forming in his belly. He’d done the right thing for Rosalie, forcing her to stay behind. But was it the right thing for his men? What lives had he unknowingly sacrificed by his decision? Perhaps he wasn’t the leader he once thought he was.

  “It was the right call,” Stryker said, riding up beside him.

  “What?”

  “With Rosalie. I couldn’t have that on my conscience either. Marx’s vision wasn’t clear. And I believe we make our own destiny.” He winked in Ash’s direction, slapped the horse with the reins, and rode ahead.

  “You ready?” Marx whispered to Rosalie from where she lay hidden in the wagon, behind the boxes of ammunition.

  Rosalie popped her head up. “Ready,” she smiled, looking around. She pulled bits of hay from her hair before she stood to her feet. Her hair was pulled back in a tight braid, making her look younger, somehow.

  Marx stared at her, straining to glimpse a vision of how it might all end. Although Rosalie’s presence strengthened his vision of victory, he could no longer foresee her fate. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, starting to doubt their plan. He’d grown fond of her too and didn’t want to see anything happen to her. He also loved Ash like a son, and he knew if anything happened to Rosalie, Ash would take it hard.

  “We’ve been over this.” Her tone was stern, but she smiled back at him. “I’m ready.”

  “We’re going to sneak you around back,” he said more self-assuredly.

  She knew she projected more confidence than she felt. Inside she was a bundle of nerves. She wasn’t sure what made her more anxious – confronting her mortal enemy or facing Ash’s wrath once he discovered she’d gone against his wishes and tagged along for the battle. But when presented with the facts, she knew she didn’t have much choice. If her presence increased Ash’s chances of victory by even a fraction, it was the right thing to do.

  Rosalie and Marx slipped out the back of the wagon. They darted for the tree line and hunkered down until the Liberation Alliance was out of their sight line. Slowly, the pair made their way through the cover of trees, circling to the backside of the castle. Rosalie’s heart pounded in her chest and her breathing was staggered. Bravery faltering, she began to wonder if she was up for the challenge.

  “You’re doing great,” Marx whispered.

  She offered him a tight smile. She squeezed the emerald around her neck, mumbled a small prayer to the gods, and pressed forward.

  The shrubbery around the castle was thick and full of thorns. Marx pulled a dark hooded cape from his satchel and offered it to her. She slipped it on, pulling the hood over her head and sliding her braid over her shoulder.

  “This is where I leave you,” he said with regret. “I need to rejoin the men before they notice I’m gone.” He gave her braid a soft tug as his eyes clouded with emotion.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “I know you will,” he lied. He wished he knew for certain. He longed for clarity of her future. But no matter how hard he tried, or how long he meditated, his visions were incomplete. This was as far as his visions led him.

  Rosalie peered back at him from beneath the dark hood. A soft rain began to fall, and wispy, auburn curls formed on her forehead. This is where her bravery would be put to the test. She pulled Marx into a fierce hug. “I’ll be fine,” she said again – more for her own benefit.

  When Ash and his men neared the castle gate, they were surprised to find it guarded with more men than anticipated. “No matter,” Ash said aloud. “Our plans don’t change.”

  The Druin army drew their weapons, ready for a fight. Ash’s army followed suit. “Hold steady,” Ash warned his men.

  When they were close enough, he gave his two Inflictors the signal, and they began a chant which left the army of Druin doubled over and clutching their bellies.

  “More,” Ash ordered.

  The Inflictors chanted louder. The Druin army bellowed and rubbed their eyes as if they were experiencing a chemical burn.

  It was now time for the Fabricator to work his magic. He closed his eyes and concentrated on projecting a tranquil setting. Ash’s men shut their eyes to block out the spell, but the Druins had not been trained. The Liberation Alliance vanished before their eyes – replaced by a tropical garden with exotic birds and a stream flowing through it. The Druins lowered their weapons and strained their eyes to see clearly; but where a threatening army once stood, there was a welcoming waterfall and a magnificent sunrise.

  As planned, Ash dismounted from his horse and approached his disconcerted enemies. He channeled his powers, speaking in firm but hushed tones and bending the men to his will. Most surrendered voluntarily, stepping aside to let Ash and his soldiers through. Some resisted. A Blocker, for one; but Ash’s men were prepared. They worked swiftly to restrain the resistance.

  Within the castle walls, the soldiers fanned out in search of Lord Zebadiah. Marx sidled up beside Ash and patted him on the back.

  “Where have you been?” Ash barked.

  “I stayed behind to clear my head; hoping to get a clearer read on the situation,” he lied.

  “And?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “We’ll probably win.”

  Ash cracked a smile. “Wow, what a confidence booster.”

  Marx laughed, but his face was etched with worry
. Somewhere on the castle grounds, Rosalie was left to defend herself; shouldered with the burden of saving them all.

  Rosalie tried to pretend her cloak made her invisible as she clawed her way through the thicket. Arrows whistled through the air and landed several yards away, shaking her confidence and putting her off balance. She paused to take a breath, closing her eyes and willing her courage to return. When she reopened her eyes, she concentrated on her surroundings.

  Beyond the brush she could make out two sentries perched on tree stumps, playing a card game. She knew Ash and his men would be approaching the front castle gate and was surprised how inattentive the men seemed to their post. Perhaps it was a trap. No matter. She knew what she needed to do. The man that she loved and the people she’d grown fond of depended on her, even if they were unaware of her presence. She lowered her hood, squared her shoulders, and stepped out of the thicket. With renewed energy and strength, she walked towards the two men.

  As predicted, the sentries seized Rosalie and led her straight to Lord Zebadiah who sat smug upon his throne. With his dreadful smile and black robe covering his long, stringy hair, he looked menacing; the embodiment of evil. Rosalie supposed that was the point. Flaming torches and animal skulls lined the aisle leading to his throne. The air was pungent with the smell of rot and smoke and she resisted the urge to hold her nose.

  A pretty but fierce-looking woman in a flowing gold gown and gaudy, jewel-crested headdress stood beside Zebadiah. The woman whispered something in his ear, the pair exchanged an impish laugh, then the woman walked down the red, carpeted steps to where Rosalie stood.