Shattered Silence

"This is amazing." I stand on the stone bridge and gawk. The rebels have used magic and ingenuity to create a vast hiding place. They couldn't have chosen a better location. Our journey here had consisted of carefully descending the steep walls of a canyon. We had to walk single file along the roaring river that ran through the bottom, until we came to a place where the canyon walls ended and the river fell over the edge in a thundering waterfall. Behind the waterfall is where the rebels have chosen to make their base. The place was so heavily warded with various magics and protection spells that I could feel it tingling almost painfully through my nerves a full mile before we reached the entrance. Tuulikki transformed into a cream and tawny colored eagle while Ardor and Sanura both started chanting a spell. Ash grew to her full size and gripped my upper arms in her talons. Even being tiny by dragon standards, Ash is incredibly strong. We all leaped from the top of the waterfall, plunging swiftly down through the spray. Roughly halfway between the top and the bottom is where Tuulikki and the others swerved, moving behind the pounding wall of water. Ash and I followed them and found ourselves in a small opening that led into a winding tunnel.

Now I follow my three companions down a spiraling rock staircase, descending deeper into the magically created cave.

"Everyone added some expertise to this place," Ardor explains as we walk. "Dwarves, witches, alchemists, sorcerers, shape shifters, daemons, fae...all manner of Others that managed to escape detection. There are even Ordinaries; more than you might expect. Plenty of them know just as well as we do how cruel and sadistic Mathias is."

"And this Jeremiah is the leader?"

"Unofficially, yes. He was one of the first to start forming and planning a rebellion. He took Others in, wanted to create a refuge. This all began as nothing more than a sanctuary, but then more and more Others came, and they wanted to fight. They were tired of living in fear and persecution. So this place became both a haven and a war planning facility. We train, with magic and weapons. Witches and various nature daemons and fae have worked together to create gardens and even a farm area so we can grow plenty of food. From time to time we still bring back supplies, but it makes it easier to not have to venture out all the time."

"Does he always talk this much?" I whisper to Sanura. She grimaces and nods. As we finally near the bottom of the first layer of spiraling rock, everyone begins looking up, calling out greetings to my new friends and eyeing me first with curiosity, and then a sense of awe that makes me uncomfortable. Then they notice Ash, and excited exclamations ring out all through the chamber.

"It's true then!" a woman gasps, reaching out to touch my hand. "A High Elf has survived! And a dragon!" The news spreads quickly and soon various creatures and the Ordinaries Ardor had spoken of come crawling out of the woodwork-stone work- to watch our little procession pass by. Ashira being a dragon, and therefore entitled to a bit of vanity, seems content to hold her head high and preen a bit as we go, but I just smile awkwardly and walk faster. I've spent the last hundred years trying to avoid being the center of attention. Plus it's strange feeling so many magics at the same time; the cave is practically humming with it. I imagine Rowena would be dazzled by all the auras she could likely see here.

"Let me through," a booming voice commands and the crowd quickly disperses. A large man strides towards me. No, not a man. A daemon. He stands at least seven feet tall, and an impressive set of inky black wings protrude from his shoulders. Long silver and black hair is tied back from his face in a ponytail. Intense silver-gray eyes appraise me from a tanned face with a firm jaw. I resist an urge to take a step back. Despite his size and his apparent authority, he still somehow exudes a certain calm. This must be Jeremiah. And he is a dream daemon.

Walking behind him follows another daemon male, also broad shouldered and bronze-skinned, although this daemon looks much younger. His jet black hair is slightly streaked with deep gold and cut much shorter than Jeremiah's. His eyes are a piercing green, also flecked with gold, and deep golden wings shimmer on his back even in the dim light.

"Welcome, daughter of the wood," Jeremiah says to me. "I am Jeremiah, and this is my son Lathan." The green-eyed daemon nods to me.

"I'm Kalix," I say. Jeremiah tilts his head, looking at me thoughtfully. "I don't mean to be forward, child, but your name wouldn't happen to be Kalixandria, Princess of the Greenwood?"

I blink at him several times. "How do you know that?"

"I'm older than I look," Jeremiah says with a faint smile. "I remember the elves of the greenwood, and their royals." A dark look flickers in his eyes. "I regret their loss deeply. It is good to find that one of their line escaped Mathias' wrath."

"Thank you," I say, because I'm not sure what else to say.

"I asked my friends to search for you in the hopes that you would come here and join us in our fight to defeat the false king," Jeremiah continues. "You came all the way here, I can only hope that you wish to join us indefinitely."

"Mathias killed my family. He massacred my people. I have seen enough Other blood spilled to bathe the world red," I say, voice flinty. "I would be dishonoring their names if I did not do all in my power to end Mathias."

Jeremiah smiles again. "I am happy to hear it, Kalix."

"But I have an important question to ask you."

He nods for me to continue.

"Is there a plan for who will take over the throne when Mathias is gone? Leaving the throne open and unprotected would be most unwise."

"Spoken like a true noble," Jeremiah says, approval coloring his tone. "We have thought of that, and the answer to your question is yes. We have the rightful heirs to the throne of Sevainelle."

My eyebrows shoot up. "Rightful heirs?"

He gestures for me to follow, so Ash and I fall in step behind the dream daemons. "Very few know that Queen Ellia was fae," Jeremiah explains as we walk. "She had a vision that doom was fast approaching. She discovered she was pregnant soon after. She kept the pregnancy secret, and gave birth without the kingdom knowing. She sent her children, a son and a daughter, far from the castle in the care of some very trusted friends. Not long after that, Mathias descended upon the castle and slaughtered both King Balen and Ellia." He shakes his head in disgust. "The rest of the story you know all too well."

He leads us into a training room where a boy and a girl are practicing fencing.

"Pithia, Jerod, I have someone I'd like you to meet."

The two stop their sparring and look at me. They both have aristocratic noses, startling eyes the color of the night sky at late dusk, and dark brown hair. They also have the silver-tinted skin and angular features common to the fae. They eye me with interest.

"So the rumors are true," Pithia says excitedly, her voice high and melodic as a flute. "An Elf!"

"You have free reign of all rooms and resources available here," Jeremiah informs me.

That piques my attention. "Is there a room anywhere that contains all the elements?"

He looks puzzled but leads me from the training room. Pithia and Jerod abandon their swords and follow.

"Here we have an underground lake maintained by the various water Others, and the witches and dryads and such keep a garden here. The lanterns should provide you with fire. May I ask what this is-"

Instead of answering him, I raise my hands. I guide the lake into a swirling whirlpool. Some of my hair falls forward over my eyes and I can see the crystalline streaks in it beginning to turn blue. Then I whirl abruptly, aiming my focus towards the plants the witches are tending. I make the flowers bloom bigger and brighter, causing the women to stumble back with gasps. The blue turns to green. I lift my arms over my head and sway, until the air in the chamber whips around me in a gale. The green fades to silver so pale it's almost colorless. Finally the lanterns. I make them flare brighter and brighter until the entire chamber is awash in a red-gold glow. The silver turns crimson, the streaks a startling contrast to my moonbeam colored hair. It feels good to release some of the pent-up energy.

I let the room return to normal and find everyone gaping at me.

"I'm glad you're on our side," Lathan quips, breaking the silence and speaking for the first time. His voice is deep and rich, like dark velvet.

"Don't do anything to upset her," Jeremiah says, and I find myself smiling. I think I'm going to like life here among the rebels.



I have been with the rebels a month when Ardor comes to me with a mission.

"Some of our temporary refuges are being compromised," he says grimly. "Fortunately we haven't lost anyone yet, but there have been too many close calls and some injuries. Based on our current intel, we're fairly certain where the assassins will hit next. I don't know if you've ever heard of Coen Malochet?"

"Yes, I know of him," I reply, blood running cold. The Beast Slayer. He is known for his ruthlessness and efficiency when it comes to dealing with Others. He is not a soldier; he is the king's personal mercenary. Of course the Ordinaries all hail him as a hero, sometimes calling him Lord Malochet, or Coen the Conqueror. But they have no idea what Malochet does with the Others he finds. Or what he does with humans. It doesn't matter much to him; he simply enjoys killing. And he has many ways of doing it.

"Well his team of cutthroat villains, otherwise known as the Knight Protectorate," Ardor snorts at that, "are the ones committing these raids. They have a Cuffed Other with them; no one has dared to get close enough to discover what kind of Other he is or what exactly his purpose is, but he must be important if Malochet has him."

"So what's the plan?"

Ardor grins. "We've already cleared everyone out of the next site designated to be hit. We're going to set a trap."

My grin matches his. "I like the way you think around here."

The group consists of Ash and I, as well as Tuulikki, Sanura, another witch named Jarra, two tiger shifters, an alchemist named Reuben who has been working tirelessly trying to create something that will break the Cuffs, and Lathan.

"Be careful," Jeremiah instructs as we prepare to leave. "And kill them all."

Reuben and the witches work to create a portal once we reach the mouth of the cave. It's difficult to hear their chanting over the roar and crash of the waterfall, but soon the portal opens. They gesture wildly at the rest of us, and we leap through in a jumbled mass of limbs. We find ourselves on a windy outcropping of rock high on a steep hill far from any town. Overlooking the valley below is a simple cottage. Traces of wards still linger, but when the Others cleared out they must not have bothered keeping them in tact. The nine of us troop inside to await the Beast Slayer and his thugs. We sit inside and keep low, all of us watching out the window and waiting.

"They should be here soon," Lathan says. He grips a giant broadsword in one hand and a heavy mace in the other. Combined with the determined set of his jaw and the furious glint in his eyes he makes for an intimidating picture. I do not envy the Knight Protectorate. Soon we hear the sound of approaching footsteps and the air grows silent and tense. Lathan and I, being the only ones easily recognizable as Others, keep our weapons drawn and press ourselves into the far corners of the main room. The rest sit at the dining table and bustle around the kitchen, as though they were preparing lunch without a care in the world. There is no knock at the door, no formal request to be let in. Coen Malochet kicks the door in, striding into the room with swords in hand. My companions do a fine job feigning terror and confusion as they're dragged from the cottage one by one.

"Check the rest of the house," Malochet barks. Two other mercenaries enter the cottage, clad in black. They move about the house. One walks past the dark corner, made even darker by Lathan's magic, and is split from guts to neck by Lathan's sword. The man doesn't even make a noise as his bloody body crumples. I'm crouched inside the entryway to the kitchen. The second man walks right past me, then stops and spins around doing a double take. He raises his sword, but not fast enough. I spring, bringing my dagger up into his jaw. The blade protrudes slightly from the top of his skull from the force of the blow.

"Are there any more?" Coen calls. Lathan seems to melt out of the shadows where he had been hiding and inches toward the open door, not revealing himself yet.

"There are Others," he calls. Then he steps into the doorway. "And we're going to kill you." The shifters transform in half a breath, tearing at their startled captors. I dive through the kitchen window, slitting the throat of a man about to impale Reuben in the back. As I turn, I catch sight of a familiar face in the melee and my heart sinks. Rune. She stands slightly away from the members of the Knight Protectorate, watching the battle and looking torn.

"Sanura! Jarra! Put a binding spell on her!" I point and the witches waste no time. Being as unfamiliar with magic as she is, Rune doesn't realize what's happening until it's too late. Then she realizes she can't move, nor can she use her shadow magic. Fury lights her features and she screams curses at us. We ignore her, continuing our fight. But then I feel a tingle of familiar magic. Then I see him. The Cuffed Other that Ardor mentioned.

"No," I whisper. Shock and pain freeze me in place for a heartbeat. Then rage, hot and uncontrollable, scorches through my blood. Lava now pulses through my veins. I put the dagger in my boot and reach for my arrows. I let them fly one by one, taking down four Knights in a matter of seconds. They writhe on the ground screaming while their bodies rot away from the poison. Finally I abandon even my arrows as I fight my way toward the Cuffed man. Instead I simply let my elemental magic run wild; the ground shifts and rises up to encase them in the earth.

"Reuben!" I shout. "Give me your Uncuffing device!"

"It hasn't been properly tested!" he calls back, fending off two Knights. Ash breathes a stream of lightning at them until they fall back, convulsing on the ground. "Give it to me, Reuben." He doesn't argue again and hands the small clamp over. I stride to the Cuffed prisoner, who is staring at me with wide bronze eyes. "Kalix?" he whispers. "Is it really you?"

"Hold still," I say. "This will probably hurt." I slide the clamp around his Cuff and summon Ashira. I turn the small crank on the device, trusting the others to hold off the remaining Knights.

"Now, Ash," I whisper and she breathes her silver lightning onto the Cuff as I twist again. The Cuff shatters and the man screams. My heart breaks when I see that the Cuffs don't merely sit on the wrist like a shackle. They inject sharp barbs deep into the skin. The barbs pull free as I toss the Cuff aside. The skin of his wrist is bruised and bloody. The man swoons and sinks to the ground. I leave Ash to watch over him and stride across the blood soaked ground to where Lathan is still battling Malochet.

I pull an arrow from my quiver and shove my way between Lathan and the Beast Slayer.

"You're going to pay for what you've done," I whisper, my tone venomous. Malochet laughs in my face, which only fuels my anger. I punch him in the throat, cutting off his malicious snickers and sending him stumbling back. "Is that the message you'd like me to take back to my king, she-elf?" he mocks when he regains his breath.

"You're going to deliver your king a message," I say quietly, "by not delivering one at all." I stab the arrow tip into his right arm, and then his left leg. Then I seize Lathan's sword out of his hand and cut the limbs off before the poison can fully spread. Malochet howls. The poison spread just quickly enough to decay the flesh around the wounds. No matter what healers he goes to now, Malochet will always be in pain. I call up the earth around him, urging it to fuse with his body, creating a monstrous being made of bone and dirt and rock. Half his face is stone while small plants and roots wind through and under his skin.

"Now you look like the monster you truly are, Beast Slayer. No one will champion you as a hero now. You will live in everlasting agony."

"A witch cursed you," Lathan says, staring into Malochet's wild eyes. "There was no raid, no Other rebels. You tried to catch the witch and she cursed you to this fate. You don't know what happened to your comrades." Malochet looks dazed as Lathan and I turn away.

"We need to get back," I say, setting the bodies of the Knights ablaze until they're nothing but piles of ash drifting on the wind. Rarely have I used my powers in such a destructive manner, but lately it seems I'm needing to use them as an offensive weapon more and more often. "He needs a healer."

"How do you know Tristan?" Rune demands, still struggling against the binding spell.

I kneel at the fallen man's side and cradle his head. "He's my brother."



Lathan comes to me as I sit in the healing chamber. When we returned to the keep, it was discovered that I had taken a few hits while fighting the Knights. In my blind rage I hadn't even noticed until the blood loss made me swoon. Reuben, and other alchemists and sorcerers and witches were studying the Cuff and Reuben's device. He was receiving much praise for its success, and I thought he might just burst from pride. Ash went with them s they could study the effects of dragon lightning on the Cuff.

"Father thought you might want to be present for the girl's questioning, if you're up for it."

My side and head ache, but I want to know. Wordlessly I nod and climb gingerly from the bed. Lathan leads me to a small room. Rune is tied to a chair, looking murderous, while Jeremiah stands calmly before her, hands clasped behind his back.

"You may begin, Lathan," Jeremiah says. Lathan's mother was a siren. He inherited her abilities to plant, jumble, remove, and read people's memories and hearts, as well as his daemon father's ability to see, capture, and create dreams and illusions.

"I already told you I'm not telling you anything, no matter how much you torture me," Rune spits.

"I have no intention of torturing you," Lathan tells her calmly. "I'm not a barbarian and besides I don't need you to tell us anything." Lathan rests a hand on her forehead. Rune tries to jerk away but he holds her head steady and places a small circular band around her head. The band is attached to a large crystal ball; similar to the ones witches use sometimes use for scrying except this one is much larger. Rune's memories begin to appear in it. I lean forward, fascinated. I see the night she split from our group. She speaks to a small, smoky creature, who leads her away from us. They travel together for some time; the strange creature trying to teach Rune how to use her magic. At first she resists, then she's clumsy. The creature barks orders at her until she's so frustrated she screams at it. The thing seems to find that amusing. Then one day while she's practicing, she encounters the Knight Protectorate. At first she's terrified, but then learns that they've been away from the capital for some time and they have no idea about the order our for her arrest.

She convinces them that she can be of use to them; that she's an adept lookout. They allow her to travel with them, although the shadow creature keeps insisting to her that it's a bad idea. She spends most of her time talking and sitting with Tristan, unaware that he's an Elf since his blue-black hair has grown so long that it covers his ears. I close my eyes. "That's why they were using Tristan. He's an Elf; he can sense other magic nearby. They enslaved him and used him to hunt down his fellow Others."

My heart aches. I thought my older brother was dead for the last century. In a way I feel that his enslavement is worse. Tristan was always a protector, especially of me. Being forced to direct the Knights to innocent Others and then watch helplessly as they were butchered...

"My brother won't be punished, will he?" I ask Jeremiah. "For aiding the Knights?"

Jeremiah looks shocked. "Of course not! It was completely against his will. We will punish those who forced him into servitude."

"Get out of my head!" Rune snaps. Her eyes had been slightly glazed, like she was in a trance. But the lull in Lathan's magic as we talked has allowed her to snap out of it. Lathan removes the circlet from her head and the crystal goes blank. Rune looks surprised to find her command fulfilled.

"What are we going to do with her?" I ask Jeremiah. He's watching Rune in that thoughtful way of his. "Lathan, you're the one with the ability to read the soul. What do you think? Can she be trusted?"

"No," Lathan says without hesitation. "Not yet. There is potential there, but the hatred and fear have not been driven from her heart. That will take time."

"Very well." Jeremiah left the room. Rune glowered at Lathan, then finally looked at me. "You can't let them just keep me prisoner," she says. I stare at her. "I can't fault them for not trusting you. A part of me is wishing that I had never trusted you." My voice is hollow, and surprise, anger, and even a trace of hurt flash in her eyes. "I helped you when you needed it, Rune, and you may as well have spit in my face. You're going to have to prove yourself now."

Before she can reply, Jeremiah returns. "The wards have been adapted. Rune will not be able to use her magic to leave the keep. She can still train with her familiar, but she will not be able to leave this place unattended until she has proven that she can be trusted." Rune's mouth falls open and Jeremiah stares at her. "What were you thinking when you joined up with those men, child?" he asks, sounding almost sad. "Did you think that they could put in a good word for you and the king would welcome you back into the fold and you could return to your old life? An understandable but foolish notion, Rune Alder of the Shadows. The only way you can return freely to your old home is if we defeat Mathias. I hope you realize that soon." Then he turns and walks out of the room again. Lathan releases Rune from the chair where she's bound. I walk beside him, not looking back at Rune's stunned face.



I'm surprised to find Rune in the dining hall tonight. She slinks among the tables, and spots me. We stare at each other for a long moment and finally I nod toward an empty seat at the table. Looking relieved but trying to hide it Rune sits and a bowl of steaming stew appears before her. She stares at it warily.

"It's just stew," I say. She picks up her spoon and takes a hesitant bite.

"New here?" a young man beside me asks her, smiling. She nods. "So what kind of Other are you?" she questions, taking another bite.

"I'm an Ordinary," he replies. Tuulikki slides into the spot beside him, kissing his cheek and eyeing Rune suspiciously until her food appears. "I'm Hayden, by the way," the man adds.

"Rune." She continues to stare at him. "If you're an Ordinary, what are you doing here?"

"Mind your own business," Tuulikki snaps but Hayden shushes her. "My little sister was a Seer," he explains. "That's all. There was nothing inhuman about her at all. She just saw things in reflective surfaces sometimes. Premonitions. We tried to keep it a secret, but when Arista saw something bad, she had to warn people. We lived in a small village, and most people would heed her warnings and just let her Otherness go. She even saved a little girl from drowning in the well. But someone in town, we never were sure who or why, reported her. Members of the Knight Protectorate showed up at our door in the middle of the night. They dragged Arista from her bed and started beating her. When my father tried to intervene, they stabbed him and left him in the street to die. They had a few soldiers stand guard nearby in case anyone else tried to help her. They beat my sister almost to death, and then finally hanged her in a tree in the square. My father died of his wounds by the time we could get him to the healer. They wouldn't let us take the body down for a proper burial for three months. They left my sister hanging there. My mother couldn't bare it. She hardly ate or slept. She died less than a year later." A silence hangs heavy over the surrounding tables. I stare at my plate.

"They killed my flock," Tuulikki says. "There were seven in my family. I got here with only my father and one of my sisters. The others we lost, and my father almost died too from his injuries."

"They took my husband." A pretty, plump woman with dark brown curls stares at the table, tears brimming in her dark eyes. "He was human. They killed him for marrying a witch. The soldiers killed him for loving me. They stabbed me, left me for dead. My husband died in my arms, and our unborn son died from the stab wound." The woman dissolves into sobs and those sitting closest to her reach out to pat her on the back or touch her hand.

"We have all lost someone we love." I glance up to find Jeremiah standing beside our table. "We have plenty of reason to fight, and that's why we will win this war. Mathias fights because of greed, and his soldiers fight because they are blind. We fight for love and justice. Don't lose hope." He touches the sobbing witch's shoulders gently and then moves on. I turn my gaze to Rune, who looks pale and uncomfortable. Her hand shakes as she raises her spoon to her mouth. I find her sitting in the garden beside the lake as I make my way to the healing chamber after dinner. I need fresh bandages for the gash on my forehead and the shallow stab wound in my side. Tristan's condition improved considerably and he's been sleeping since this afternoon. I want to check on him, but I need to speak with Rune first.

"Does it feel like you thought it would?" I ask. She turns and stares at me, her face a question mark.

"Seeing the aftermath of your king's orders," I clarify. "Does it make you feel as proud and noble as you expected? Does it feel like justice when you see a man haunted by the loss of his family, or a woman weeping for her dead husband and child? Or do you feel that you need to rethink your definition of the word monster?" I don't expect a reply, and I turn and leave the garden, leaving her to her thoughts. I hear Jeremiah speak to her as I leave the chamber, my steps faltering slightly.

"Rune," he says. "I think that perhaps learning more of the other half of your lineage might help you with your magic lessons. I would like to introduce you to your father."