Page 6 of An Empress of Air & Chaos

“Cally, get up, do you hear tha—”

She silenced when she realised Cally wasn’t in the bed next to her. Panic flooded her whole body. Her eyes flickered to the glass windows—the moon was still exploring her kingdom from above in a dusky haze.

Cally had drunk two bottles of wine before bed, passing out almost immediately once the second one was drained. Emara had had four glasses, which had left her head feeling a little buzzed and almost relaxed. Cally had absolutely been in her bed when she’d fallenasleep. So where was she now?

Another crash came from outside and a bloodcurdling scream breached the air.

A woman’s scream.

“Cally,” Emara breathed as she leapt from her bed. She flung one of Cally’s silk overgarments around her shoulders as quickly as she could, realising she had forgotten to get dressed from the black two-piece she’d tried on earlier this evening. Fumbling to tie a knot on the band around her midriff, she heard voices that sounded like they were coming from the kitchenette. A lightning bolt of dread struck through her as she slowly walked out into the hallway. She curled her hands up tight, digging her nails into her palms, and made her way through the dark.

As she took the first step on the stairs, she knew exactly where to place her feet to not give herself away. Her grandmother’s house was an old wooden structure right in the middle of the private estate and the aged wood often creaked and groaned when walking anywhere in the house.

Sometimes when she was little, Emara would sneak downstairs and listen to her grandmother sing while she painted. It had given her comfort from the nightmares as a child and reminded her that she was safe here. She was always safe with her grandmother.

“I don’t have it!” The voice of her grandmother was stern and solid. There were no pleasantries in her tone as she spoke.

Is she arguing with someone? Emara thought as she stilled on the step.

An animal-like noise, almost like a hissing sound, interrupted her. The goosebumps from earlier returned over her neck and spread all over her body, standing her every sense to attention. This time she didn’t dare move to command her goosebumps to stand down.

“Do not lie to us,” the voice hissed back. “We will burn this village to the ground. The longer you let this lie live, the more people will die. Trusted sources say it could be in your possession. Help us and he will reward you by not sentencing you to death.”

The unusual voice ripped at Emara’s ear drums and sent shooting pains through her head. She scrunched her eyes and her mouth fell wide at the pain it caused.

Who was that?

What was that?

The voice couldn’t have been human. It was agonizingly disturbing. Unnatural.

Undiluted fear coursed through her, making her skin both icy and inflamed.

Something wasn’t right. Why wasn’t her grandmother running? Was she acquainted with the person who spoke in an ancient, acidic voice?

A horrible thought crossed her mind.

If her grandmother was in the kitchen, then where was Cally?

Another sharp pain invaded her head as the person spoke again, “The king will be glad to know that we have finally found you and what is his. Give it to me, Theodora.” The person spat her grandmother’s name with venom. “It is time to stop running. It won’t only be you that will suffer the consequences if you don’t. You know we can’t touch her, on the king’s orders; but we can rip out the living from this kingdom until we find what we have come for.”

King? Emara’s brows pulled down in confusion. There was no king of Caledorna. It was governed by the elite. The Minister of Coin. The kingdom had voted against a king.

“She”—her grandmother’s voice was tart and quick—“is innocent in all of this. She doesn’t know about your king and it will remain that way. So, leave and tell your trusted sources that they were wrong. I don’t have it.”

Emara’s features twisted as she tried to think of what or whom her grandmother was referring to. Confusion and tiredness didn’t go together. Gently, she put one foot out onto the next step, which allowed her to see through the staircase spindles. Who would threaten to kill everyone in the kingdom of Caledorna for something her grandmother had?

Or didn’t have.

Although she was shaking, she slowly lowered her body into a crouching position and peered through the space. Theodora was standing in her loose nightgown. Her greyish-brown hair was tied up at the top of her head, rolled around a pin which held it in place. She had an expression on her face that Emara had never witnessed before. Shecouldn’t place it. Was it fear, or determination? Possibly repulsion?

Whatever the expression, it aged her grandmother’s face terribly. Her grandmother had fared extremely well for her age. But tonight she looked like she was in her eighth decade of living.

Another scream pierced through the air, coming from the estate outside, and the muscles in Emara’s legs pinched tighter to keep her from jumping. Her heartbeat so quickly that she felt faint.

What was happening out there?

Theodora gritted her teeth together, hearing the scream too. She shifted uncomfortably.

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