Legends of Astræa: Cupid's Arrow Book 1 (Legends of Astræa Series) Read online

  I knew then time was slipping from my hands to save Francis. I couldn’t stop crying as I fought my way with more resolve than before. A brief glimpse of Gavril’s untouched body on the cross’s steps caught my eye. He was on consecrated ground. Nobody cared anymore about him.

  Ailie, focus. Nicholas is falling behind, ghostly Gavril warned me. He really looked weak and sick. I wasn’t going to let that happen. Unfortunately, I had to choose who to save, and I hated Ash for making me choose. I fought back to reach him. He could barely defend himself anymore.

  I wish I knew how to help Nicholas, I told Gavril. At that exact moment, a warlock blasted Nicholas. I watched his large, pale body land on the edge of the steps where Gavril’s body was.

  He is hungry. He hasn’t eaten since… well, that night, Gavril said. It dawned on me what he meant by that. He hadn’t eaten anything since the night when he took my blood. Nicholas needed nourishment. Crap. He needed blood. I reassessed my choices. Nicholas was now safe for the moment on consecrated ground, and I couldn’t let Francis die on my clock. No, I wasn’t going to let Asmodeus get away with murder again. Not anymore. God help me, I prayed. I kept fighting. It was as if I was possessed.

  I realized how futile my efforts were when more ghouls separated me from Francis. I raised my sword and screamed at the heavens.

  And the heavens answered with a lightning strike that left me temporarily deaf when it touched my sword. The world stopped.

  I sat aside all my emotions, all the dread, all the despair, and the loss. I inhaled and a for a split moment, there was an inner silence in my head that took over. I stood calm, as if everything around me had stopped in time, and I was the observer.

  Time had literally stopped.

  I watched everyone at a standstill except one—Asmodeus. But this time, I could see him in all his glory as a Fallen. He was magnificent, golden wings, face, and all.

  “Impressive, sweet pea.”

  I could hear him, too, for the first time since our last fall out. However, what he meant to say was, horseshit, merde, caca, turd, and so many other translations. I had the upper hand this time around.

  “However, I already won. It is just a matter of time,” he forewarned me.

  Did he? I swallowed hard.

  “I wondered who would you choose to save, sweet pea. Your pets, the prince, or Saint Francis?” He was mocking Francis. “Tic-toc, tic-toc.” He rushed me.

  What was it with villains that like to say dull cliché lines? What I was thinking to do would just allow me to save one and not the others. I knew that to be the truth. Yet Asmodeus’s intention was to make me give up saving them all.

  “Maybe I have underestimated you. You have potential to be a manslayer. I must say that is a perk bonus,” he said. I knew now he was trying to distract me, wasting valuable frozen time…

  Crap. I had been able to stop time.

  He continued his convincing speech. “Perhaps you may want to consider my help to save them,” he offered. Yeah, right…

  “Now that you put it that way, I’ll take the risk,” I dared him, kneeling with my hands on the ground. I prayed my healing powers would restore consecrated land and Francis simultaneously. There was just one little detail wrong with my plan. The werewolves could burn to ashes, those ghouls and warlocks and Sister Agatha, and like any other soulless evil, but this was the best idea I had. I prayed.

  “Sweet pea, what are you doing?” he asked me, sounding more alarmed than not.

  I smiled wickedly at him as I injected my power into the desecrated ground. A large concentric ring of golden light formed around me. The golden light slowly moved outward, traveling like a tsunami wave. I realized then that time was about to be unfrozen and time was running out.

  “Laters, sweet pea.” Ash waved an amused goodbye. That’s it? His cold, heartless grin gave me shivers, and his tendency to freak me out gave me the creeps. Needless to say, I disliked him a lot. I prayed, hoping I hadn’t been too presumptuous and assuming, as I ran to meet Raphael’s brothers who remained like statues.

  “Coward,” I muttered as Ash disappeared into thin air. It was somewhat anticlimactic, yet I had no time left to dwell on it. The weres were going to be ashes if I didn’t save them.

  The golden light was upon me, as I pulled and gathered seven unmoving wolves, who gratefully were positioned close to each other. As I did, I noticed something rather unusual, I was moving their bodies through the air as if they were weightless. I guessed that if the existence of time was temporarily halted then all the other rules of space, distance, mass, weight, or maybe even gravity were too, except for me, as I knocked all of them onto the floor and well into my embrace when the light reached us. I prayed again to save their souls.

  It felt like a breeze going through our bodies, spreading and burning everything that was evil into ashes. For a split moment, no one moved.

  I pulled myself out of the mess of bodies, understanding they were still bodies and not ashes. I gasped as I felt the wolves react to the change. I watched them wake from a deep sleep. Raphael was the first to see me there, waiting. He pressed his hand at his heart, as if he was feeling it for the first time. They all had a soul now, and the grounds were sacred once again.

  I fell on my sacred and posterior gluteus then awkwardly crawled to check on Francis. Before I touched him, I knew he was long gone, but my heart refused to accept that. No. Not again.

  “Francis.” My hands reached for him. He had no pulse.

  There was absolute silence as I touched him. He was so cold, so very cold and broken. I held Francis as I verged on collapsing. It had taken almost all of me to heal the ground.

  However, I had to protect the medallion first. I searched his neck and every pocket. I found nothing. On top of everything, we had lost the Sidhe medallion, the one that was given to Tammuz by the Unseelie king.

  My brain shut down. At some point, I felt Nicholas kneeling next to me. Raphael stood behind the queen, shaking his head, perhaps feeling my defeat. I had lost the people I cared for the most, and the medallion was lost on my watch. My head kept repeating these over and over.

  The wolves howled.

  It was a sad lament, a cry for their fallen brother Gavril and for Francis. Anne cried quietly next to us. I had lost the one person in this world that had been like the father I’d never had. How much I wanted to apologize to Francis, but I was too late to tell him I’m sorry.

  I had been wrong. I had let Francis and Gavril die on my watch, all because I thought I could vanquish Asmodeus. All because of my cursed need for revenge. Pride. Sister Agatha had always said that would be my downfall. She was right. How could I’ve have done that? God, what had I done?

  Chapter 58

  The storm had passed, leaving just a faint drizzle. Raphael went to help the Sisters inside the convent. Anne kissed Francis’s forehead as a goodbye and closed his eyes softly. We were all cold, sad, and wet.

  The queen gasped. She was holding Francis’s hand. I turned my gaze from the nothingness of my troubled mind to looked at her. She was having some sort of strange break down, sobs and heaves.

  “Ailie. Ailie.”

  I heard my name, but I was so disconnected, reality eluded me. Anne screamed, covering her mouth, succeeding to be genuinely joyful unlike me. I felt detached and defeated.

  “Ailie,” Francis’s faint voice said a third time. It wasn’t until Nicholas shook me again apprehensively that I understood the magnitude of the moment.

  Francis was alive.

  “Francis…” I fell on him, holding him tightly. I sobbed into his chest. I felt his weak life energy and gathered what little I had of mine to heal him. There was no time to waste. This was a second chance, and I wasn’t going to misuse it. My fingers ignited.

  The green-and-blue tendrils traveled from my hands into his broken body. Nicholas patted my shoulder for support, igniting our golden aura and melding into Francis’s healing. His broken, crushed ribs opened back to their natural
position, and I felt his broken legs meld together again. His punctured lung tissue stopped its bleeding, and his internal bruising was disappearing. He offered a smile as a sign that he was feeling much better. I embraced him again, feeling exhausted but hopeful.

  “I’ve never been prouder.” He petted me, calming my sob fest. “Now, now. I think we have surpassed the PDA.” He was making light of the situation. But I knew how uncomfortable he was under the circumstances.

  “Holy crap! Was that your first joke?” I pushed him away a little, breaking into sobbing giggles that were on the verge of hysterics.

  Queen Anne greeted him with a large grin. “Velcome back, Lord Tarbellee.”

  He sat up and cleared his throat, composing himself. At the same time, I wondered how Francis managed to always look like he had that extra cool factor, even after death.

  “Your Majesty,” he said, noting her presence next to him.

  “Zhat would be your second joke, I haupe.” She glanced at her rags. I watched Francis’s confused expression. He didn’t get zee joke. I rolled my eyes.

  “I think I can help you find something clean and warm to wear, Your Majesty,” I said to her, saving Francis from awkward embarrassment.

  He stood, and it appeared he was suddenly speechless. I extended my hand to her to help her stand, but Francis beat me to it. She gasped at his touch and lowered her gaze.

  “Merci,” she said, thanking him. She cleared her throat to deflect her embarrassment, turning her attention to Nicholas who was standing behind me.

  I turned to see him and forgot how to breathe for a brief moment, trying to ignore his compelling and abominable beauty. His muscles had grown oversized. He had long fangs protruding from his gorgeous lips and large, blueish bat wings that were hard to ignore. A large lump formed in my throat. I understood so little of the extent of the side effects that syringe had caused him. I swore to myself I was going to find a way to cure him. Asmodeus was such a sick, evil angel.

  By the same token, it made me wonder about his strong will not to eat me right there, right at that moment. He was starving. I also acknowledged his hunger was pressing on its time limit, and he was in deep trouble. We all were. Maybe I could find something to substitute his meal with like Marcum had.

  “U must tell me wat h-as befouled my only son.” She looked at me for answers. Crap. I had none.

  A small, feral, guttural growl emanated from Nicholas’s throat.

  “Mother, may I introduce you to my—your—our—my—” Nicholas’s voice sounded coarse, and his eyes never looked so red as he hesitated to describe our situation. That was my fault, since I hadn’t officially accepted to marry him. I felt his body quiver with tension behind me. I prayed he was trying to control of himself.

  “Ailie Pearson, Your Majesty.” I shook Queen Anne’s hand, interrupting Nicholas before he was stuck giving explanations of the wedding that couldn’t happen any time soon since… Well, since he looked like he did. I postponed the unpleasant conversation of his condition for now.

  The laws of the Strzyga kingdom were very clear. The kingdom’s duty was to preserve and protect nothing but those of pure Strzyga blood. Tough luck for those like Marcum or Nicholas and even perhaps my own farther. I wondered what was the story behind Demyan’s half-blood dismissal.

  “I am zo happee to meet u. Mais, zee—”

  “Let me take you to the Sisters. I am sure they would be pleased to help you clean and provide you with something warm.” I winked at Nicholas and Francis as I took Nicholas’s mother’s hand and dragged her out of there, where we were in extreme danger. There were so many things to discuss with Francis and Nicholas, but now wasn’t the right moment. First, Nicholas needed nourishment to control his situation, and the queen needed to get dry, warm, and comfortable.

  “You must z-think I cannoe -aandle iinyzeen, no?” Her tone had taken offense, yet she walked in rags with the dignity of holding a crown. I looked at her. She was like nothing I expected from her. I had a very misrepresented view of the person she was because of Demyan’s memories. But I imagined that surviving a long year of dungeons, starvation, abandonment, and perhaps even torture, had changed her. I shuddered at the thought of it.

  “I think you to be the strongest person I’ve ever met, Your Majesty. I am sorry, we thought that conversation could wait until you were more comfortable.” I meant it.

  She sighed and nodded, accepting that this topic was something more complicated than we would like to be. She held my muddy hand. “Ow segrious is eet?”

  I couldn’t lie to her. “Very.” I turned my gaze away from her. Tears threatened my eyes.

  “I zee. U arr braive and -onestte among many zeengs. Eet vill bee an oneur to bee ta Reine mère.” She paused to glance at me meaningfully. I was touched she wanted to be my queen mother. I was going to thank her, hoping to stop her predication, but she ignored me and continued. “Zee légende seys u woode breeng back aur golden aage. Now aam conveenced of viz.”

  I was the last thing the kingdom needed. I shook my head to deny such thing, but she ignored that too. We continued moving toward the convent.

  “Zee water aas modifié my boudy. Comme par magic, comme si I aden’t gone zrou zee rituel immortel.”

  I think she was speaking of the ritual when a Strzyga became immortal. I was still lost in this conversation. I had no clue what she was talking about. She seemed to read that on my face.

  “Zee water… zee water u gaiv mee, dit someting impossiball to mee,” she said, looking strangely happy. I looked at her with eyes wide open, hoping I hadn’t caused her additional pain, still feeling lost in this conversation and with her accent. Her right hand pulled my hand to her tummy. I felt like I was trespassing some boundaries. Maybe it was a French thing.

  “Viz water of life iz zee kingdom’s ansver to zee prières.”

  I shook my head. How could water be any solution? And although I thought she was exaggerating a bit, I was hoping she was referring to the healing water I had given her to bring her some energy until I could come back and rescue her. Then I realized that maybe the water could help Nicholas, but if my healing energy couldn’t change his blood or his DNA, the water would be of no use. Still, it was worth a chance.

  I closed my eyes to feel if Queen Anne was sick, but my mind sight discovered something that shouldn’t be there. Something just a life-bearing fertile female could have. Her reproductive organs were pulsing alive and not frozen like those of the females I had met at the palace. I stepped back, exchanging a gasp with Anne.

  “Ah, now u zee, mon petite cher?” She grinned back at me as I understood what she was trying to tell me. Queen Anne could get pregnant again, if she ever wished to. “In zenshuries viz eez zee hirst time I vill bee caphable of life bearing in my futoore.”

  I had given her the water of life. Holy crap.

  Legend told that Ishtar’s father, gave her the water of Life from Irkalla, so, she could heal the world. It was to save creation and a generation of mythical creatures from extinction.

  I realized that from now on, Strzyga females could bear children once again if they so wished to. She was right. The kingdom wasn’t doomed anymore as we all had thought.

  I wondered if I could give that to Nicholas. It was worth a try.

  “Ezz eet greally overg?” I felt an unexpected and invisible tight embrace. So tight, I could barely breathe. However, I recognized the soft voice.

  “Miko?” In my physical form, I couldn’t see him. Crap. I had completely forgotten about Queen Anne’s Draugr.

  “Oui,” he said.

  “For now, that might be the case.” I failed to sound cheerful.

  “Zhank u, Anne m’a commandé to barricade à l’intérieur—désolé, I misst all zee amusemont,” he explained.

  I shook my head. I was getting tired of everyone thanking me. I didn’t deserve it.

  “Tell ur friends, zee verewolves, dat I vill velcome dem asz friends, for dey ave not only fought to liberrate us,
bout dey ave showdd vee coold ave neu begiinnings,” Anne said.

  “Zhank u, zhank u.” Miko embraced me again.

  Gratefully, right at that moment, I heard my name being called, and his embrace ended abruptly.

  “Ailie,” Sister Joana cried. Only, this time around it was not to call me to do kitchen chores. I turned around to see her approaching. She reached at me and hugged me tight. It felt good to have her hug me, but I was becoming more like poor Francis in that respect. I was a little uncomfortable of the public displays of affection, particularly when I didn’t understand the reason. “I told everyone you would return one day,” she said, wiping her tears of joy. She did? Why?

  Frankly, I was shocked at the greeting. I thought everyone at St. Mary’s would be freaked out with my presence, especially after everything that had befallen since the day I left school and this long night that was almost over.

  “I am glad to see you well, Sister. This is my… friend, Anne,” I told her. I didn’t need to offer many explanations. Everyone understood those monsters were guilty of Anne’s woeful plight.

  Sister Joana took Anne’s hand as if she were one of the girls from the academy and dragged her toward the convent. I waved as I saw them disappear behind the doors.

  I decided I needed to walk back to meet Francis and Nicholas. We had too much to discuss, like Nicholas’s eminent and urgent need for food and his wellbeing. He couldn’t be walking around the academy looking like a scary hungry vampire. We also had to talk about Gavril’s funeral and what to do now that the medallion was gone. Crap.

  I moved faster, feeling the urgency to solve all these issues. On the way, I ran into Sister Greta who moved with the strength of an Amazon to greet me. I gasped as she practically collided with me.

  “Ailie, you came back. Thank the Lord,” she said.

  Uh, something was really odd here. Why wasn’t she shunning me or running for her life?

  “Your friend told us you have saved all of us,” she said next.